Gianni steers both twins down the hill with a hand each, the boutonnière back on his lapel, slightly more heroic than before. The harbour restaurant glitters below — tables set, glasses catching the afternoon light. By the time the three of them reach the terrace, someone is already pouring: champagne for the adults, something fizzing and orange for the small committee. Gianni hoists the twins onto chairs and lifts his glass. The best man rises to speak. So does Flavio — standing on his chair, boutonnière held aloft like a sceptre. He surveys the room. "MAGNIFICO," he announces, with absolute conviction. The room holds its breath for one beat. Then it dissolves — laughing, clapping, the bride covering her face with both hands. Aurora, entirely unbothered, locates a cocktail olive and begins negotiations with it immediately. Across the terrace, the gelato vendor pauses mid-scoop, watching with genuine professional admiration.