“I'm not as concerned about bits left behind, as the smell,” she told him. It was a little odd to have him suddenly so close, but not terrible. Rosmerta was simply not used to anyone outside of her family being as near as he was, let alone a man she'd just met. But he was being kind, especially since she'd been snappish with him, so she swallowed the request for him to back off a little. He'd have to be close to help with the flowers anyway, wouldn't he?
“The smell is really kind of overpowering with this many of them,” she continued. “But you must know that. They draped them all over your horns too. So yes, please, water would be nice, thank you.”
This had suddenly become something intimate. Not in a sexual or romantic sense, but something that seemed like it should be between friends. And they were not. They barely knew one another. Rosmerta was having a difficult time reconciling that, having a personal conversation with a stranger. How did his brides go from “hello, my name is...” to what was inevitable on a wedding night? Well, the willing ones, anyway. She just couldn't fathom it.
Then she had a thought and before she stopped to consider, she blurted out, “We should probably talk about what's going to happen later tonight.”