Page 17

Monica's smile is starting to look strained. "Yes. Brains. Obviously. That's... that's what neurosurgeons do."

"Correct."

"And you met at a...?"

"Gym," Colletta blurts. "We met at a gym. I was using the equipment wrong and he corrected my form."

"How romantic," Monica says faintly.

"Very," I agree.

"And you're... engaged?"

"He claimed me," Colletta says, and I can hear hysteria in her voice. "Six months ago. Very traditional. Very... Orc."

Monica's smile is definitely frozen now.

Behind her, a tall human male approaches. Well-groomed. Expensive suit. Soft hands. Non-threat.

"Babe?" he says. "Is everything—" He sees me. Stops walking. "Oh."

"Dennis!" Monica's voice is too bright. "This is Lettie's fiancé! The neurosurgeon!"

"The...?" Dennis extends a hand. I shake it. He winces. "Wow. Strong grip."

"I do manual labor," I say.

"I thought you were a neurosurgeon?"

"In my spare time."

Colletta is actively dying beside me. I can feel it.

"Well," Dennis says, recovering his smile. "It's great to meet you, man. Lettie's told us so much about you."

"She has spoken of me?"

"Oh yeah. Tons."

I look at Colletta. She is staring at the ground like she wants it to swallow her whole.

"What has she said," I ask.

"Just... you know. That you're brilliant. Dedicated. Very... intense."

"This is accurate."

"Great. That's... great." Dennis looks at Monica. Monica looks at Dennis. They seem to be having a silent conversation that I cannot interpret.

Then Monica's smile sharpens. "Well, we should let you two get settled! The rehearsal dinner starts at six, but feel free to explore the grounds! There's a wine tasting in the main building, or you can walk the vineyards, or?—"

"We will conduct reconnaissance," I say.

"I'm sorry?"

"Of the venue. To ensure optimal safety during tomorrow's ceremony."

"Safety?"