Veer sighed. "He's going to eat everything if we don't move."
"Let him," Kaya said. "He earned it. He's been dealing with your nonsense longer than I have."
"Hey!" Veer protested.
Kaya was already walking toward the tables, a faint smile on her lips.
Veer caught up quickly, falling into step beside her. "You know," he said conversationally, "most brides are nicer to their husbands on their wedding day."
"Most husbands don't organize a three-year food supply for a three-hour event," Kaya countered.
"It's called being generous."
"It's called being reckless."
"Romantic," Veer corrected.
"Wasteful."
"Thoughtful."
"Excessive."
They reached the food table still bickering, and Sparrow looked between them with exaggerated exasperation. "You two fight more than actual enemies."
"That's how you know it's love," Veer said cheerfully, grabbing a plate.
Kaya snorted. "That's how you know one of us has a death wish."
