*Killian*
Striding into the library, I am greeted with the robust laughter of my father and the vicar. I really think a man of the Goddess should be more solemn, but Browntail is obviously enjoying the spirits the Alpha prince has offered him. Both men are sitting in front of the fireplace, each holding a glass half filled with amber liquid.
I go to the sideboard, pour myself two fingers of scotch, and join them, pressing my shoulder against the mantel.
Appearing far too merry, my father lifts his glass. “Cheers to the groom.”
Taking a sip, I consider. “There is the small matter of the license.”
My father pats his chest. “Special license right here.”
I hold out my hand. “May I?”
He reaches inside the breast pocket of his jacket, pulls out the folded paper, and hands it to me. I give
