The Chosen Bride
It was a slender thing, but at least it was real.
Bella moved to the center display with the same certainty she had when she first took the head of the Romano summit. Her fingers moved over the controls like she’d grown up at the keyboard. I watched her line up the feeds, pull recon down to street-level, iron-clad the comms. She looked smaller against all that tech, but there was nothing small about the way she steadied the room with her presence.
“You look tired,” I said, though it sounded like an accusation.