Paladin's Grace (The Saint of Steel, #1)

by T. Kingfisher

Stephen’s god died a little after noon on the longest day of the year.

That's one way to open a book.

Knitting socks was not a particularly glamorous hobby, but it filled the same mental need as the sword—careful work that held his attention and hopefully did not allow his mind to wander too far afield. Plus at the end, you got socks out of it, and no one appreciated good socks like a soldier.

lmao

“Your handsome stripey boy is in disgrace,” said Grace, sweeping up the rest of the paper strips and throwing them away. “He dug a hole in my bolster pillow and tore out the stuffing, then climbed inside. I went to lie down and my pillow started moving. It took twenty years off my life.”

Cat owner life.