“Are you alright?”
I turned to find Zane standing behind me with a concerned expression on his face.
“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Just taking a break.”
Zane didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. “I was about to set up the tables for the feast. Want to help?”
“Sure,” I said, grateful for the distraction. I got to my feet and followed him to where several long tables were being arranged in a horseshoe shape around what would be the dance floor.
Working with Zane was just as easy today as it was yesterday. He had his father’s quiet calm, but also an unexpected sense of humor that emerged as we struggled with a particularly stubborn folding table. By the time we’d finished setting up, I was actually laughing, my earlier melancholy momentarily forgot
