“So, which one of us is going to tell Koraine she’s about to be married?” Nyla asked. I gave her a pleading look. If the news came from Nyla, she might take it better. I couldn’t just waltz into her room and announce we were to be married in a few days after how I left her the night before. “Fine, but you owe me for this,” Nyla said, picking up another slice of bread and pairing it with cheese. “She’s not going to be thrilled about this.” “No, she will not,” I murmured.
