Page 14 of Remorseless Sinner

“Stepbrother,”she corrected. “You’re not related at all.”

“Why is this the best way?” I asked. “Why?”

But she wouldn’t answer me, her face looking pinched and stern as she turned away from me.

And when I told her I didn’t have any panties, she shook her head.

“You’re not allowed any for the ceremony,” she said. “You know that.”

Oh hell

Not the Watering of the Boot.

Not the publichumiliationof having to do that to Saul.

This wasn't at all what I wanted. How I had dreamed of my wedding.

Instead of a beautiful, pure white gown, long lacy sleeves that my mother had sewn, and lace covering my face, I was here in a gray turtleneck and long gray skirt, my wet hair soaking my clothes, clinging sticky and wet around a throat that ached from my stepbrother putting his hands on me.

And then I was walked to the front of the church, with Saul in that dark suit right across from me, the rest of the Congregation waiting, silent and watchful.

I felt alternately chilled and heated.

“She has run away from you,” Pastor Mickelson said. “Are you sure you want to marry her? She may be consumed by wickedness, every inch of skin tainted by whorishness.”

I felt myself tense as Dr. Meier nodded in agreement, my hands clenched in puny weak fists at my side.

How could my parents believe him and his wife? How could no one believeme?

I had been serving Nimhe since I was a little girl. Cleaning shoes, doing cooking, cleaning, scrubbing for church events, as was a virgin daughter’s job.

How was it that no one believed me?

I didnotwant to look at Saul.

“Yes,” he said, his deep voice ringing out, his eyes mocking me. “I do want to marry her. I have every confidence that I can control her wanton behavior. I will take every inch of her and fill her with blessings.”

My stomach twisted inside me.

This was a nightmare!

“Sit down at his feet,” the pastor said, and I obeyed.

My heart was still beating fast from my run, and I trembled too hard to run again.

How was this happening?

“Do you swear by the eye of the Almighty serpent, to guide this woman? Do you swear to take on all her wickedness and her whorishness as your own? Do you swear to be responsible for her sin?”

“I do,” Saul said.

And I had to sit there and take it, let his vow wash over me and sink into my skin like a heavy dreadful weight.

I gasped out as my final objection, “Heis the sinner, not me! He is the sinner.”

I did not want to look at Saul, but something in his dark eyes compelled me, and I could not look away.

“Silence! He has made a reconciliation with the Eye.”

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