“I won’t expect Mr. Clifford to lie for you, but I doubt he will openly discuss his plans about terminating someone.” Boris placed a palm on the table. “Milan, I have something to ask. I know you won’t like it; neither will the great Lasair… but I’m keeping you in custody.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Milan frowned.
“That’s a poor method of trying to keep the Divine Bride safe—if that’s your concern.” Owen only leaned against the chair and crossed his arms on his chest. Even his legs followed as he loudly knocked his shoe against the table’s leg. “Sheriff, you will regret doing this.”
Boris eyed Owen, but his hard face was only showing determination. In the end, Boris decided to jail the bride and the farmer apprentice. Owen didn’t have to do anything, but he refused to leave Milan alone.
When the heavy grilled door closed, Carl just stared at the two. Milan was looking away, while Owen was only sitting inside.
