Chapter Nine
“I wish I’d seen them, would have been a pretty sight,” Knowland tells me as he jovially pours another beer down his throat. “Your tart’s got quite a cunt.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” I say.
“Marrying Teagan?”
“Yes, marrying Teagan.”
“You love her.”
“God, yes.”
He shrugs. Apparently that should say enough. He jaws on a rib bone, cleaning his fingers with his lips and takes another swig of his brew. “I’d say you get the confession and purification over with in the morning, marry her in the afternoon and put her in your bed where she belongs and be done with it.”
“Just that easy.”
“That’s what I’d do.”
“And why aren’t you marrying Queleah?”
He snickers. “I guess it’s my rebellion. I have the right to do what I please, and the tart’s just not the marrying
