The Empty Throne (The Last Kingdom, #8)

by Bernard Cornwell

When I die I want it to be in a girl’s warm bed, not on some rainswept Mercian hilltop.

He turned his eyeless face towards me. ‘What have I done now?’ ‘Marrying Edward to his Centish girl,’ I said, ‘that was a damn fool thing to do.’ ‘It kept him from sin, lord.’ ‘Sin! You mean swiving a girl is a sin?’ ‘No one said life is fair.’ ‘Your god makes strange rules.’