Chapter 20: Candlelight(18+)
The sun was just beginning to dip behind the rooftops when Allen heard the knock on the inn’s door.
Three sharp taps. Followed by a familiar, slightly slurred voice.
"Allen! You in there, friend?"
Allen didn’t rush. He adjusted his shirt, tugged the collar open just enough to tease a hint of chest. His pants were... snug. Purposefully. He wasn’t about to show up looking like some humble traveler—not when the battlefield was a married woman’s kitchen and the war was seduction.
He opened the door to find Harven grinning, cheeks already tinged pink with pre-game drinks. The man looked genuinely pleased to see him, clapping Allen on the shoulder like they’d grown up on the same bar stool.
"There he is! C’mon, Mirielle’s got supper cooking and I’ve got the corks popped already!"
Allen followed him through the winding streets, the bottle of wine tucked under Harven’s arm swinging with each step.
"You got a good woman, Harven," Allen said, voice light but laced with subtle gravity. "She’s sharp."
"Sharp?" Harven laughed. "Sharp’s one word. Bossy’s another."
They reached the house—modest, clean, with ivy creeping up the outer walls. Warm candlelight flickered behind the windows.
Inside, Mirielle was already setting the table.