Back in his chamber, Knox sat bare-chested on the cold stone floor of his chambers, his back pressed against the foot of his bed. Empty ale flasks surrounded him like fallen soldiers after a lost battle. He lifted another to his lips, gulping down the bitter liquid as if it could wash away the memories of the previous night. Amber droplets spilled down his chin, trailing over the scars that marked his torso.
His mood remained as dark as night, though he refused to acknowledge the reason behind it. It was not as if Knox's mood was ever light. This particular moment was not exceptional. It had nothing to do with the woman he had set eyes on a few minutes ago.
