"I get your point about her being a good trophy for your arm, Zecheriah, but do you love her?" Ah, yes, there it was. There was that romantic schlub of a brother. "You shouldn't marry her if you don't love her," he countered. "What do you want me to do for you?" How he wished for a corkscrew now. He got up and attempted to do the same thing with the wine that his brother had done: open it with the knife.

Bad idea.

It took him a moment to register the pain as he stabbed into his own flesh. Then he shook his hand with curse, dropped the bottle on the table and the knife clattered to the floor! The bottle rolled off the table and shattered at his feet, causing another curse.