The Exiled Elf Prince Next Door Dies on Day Seventy novel · Chapter 22 of 24

Chapter 22: The Harvest Festival

They rode into Pellmoor in the back of Mirena's wagon, sitting in the straw between two stacks of hen-stamped sacks.

Caelrin's coat lay across both their laps.

Under it, his hand had found the inside of her thigh.

He stroked it with one slow, steady thumb, looking straight ahead.

"Stop that," Aoi whispered.

"Do you want me to?"

"No."

She bent, and put her mouth against the point of his ear.

"Later," she breathed, "I'm going to bite you here until you beg."

His whole body went rigid.

The wagon rolled out of the lane and into the square, and the farmers walking beside it fell silent.

The festival ribbons hung from every roof.

Under them, in perfect rows, stood eight hundred men in grey.

At the front of the square a wooden platform had been built, with bunting round its edge.

Hobart Venn stood on it in his grey travelling coat, plump and silver and smiling, with a roll of parchment in his ringed hands.

An officer on a tall horse sat beside the platform, helmeted, with a plain hard face.

That was the captain.

Aoi got down from the wagon with a sack on her shoulder.

"Miss Aoi!" Venn called, and his soft voice carried.

"Our Farmer of the Realm. I had hoped you would come. Good people of Pellmoor, you are in time to hear the Crown's word."

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