The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 52 Found the lover boy

”Of all the fleabag places in all the riverside cities,” Jolthar muttered to himself as he slouched in the shadows of barely holding structure, ”he had to pick the one that smells like pickled fish and broken dreams.”

Heʼd been tracking Roblan through Hamrasaʼs winding streets for the better part of the day, following whispers and batting his eyelashes at various serving girls who seemed all too eager to point him toward the baronʼs son.

Not that Jolthar could blame them – even he had to admit that Roblanʼs reputation for devastating good looks hadnʼt been exaggerated.

When he finally spotted his quarry in the tavernʼs darkest corner, Jolthar nearly rolled his eyes at the melodrama of it all. He was able to be recognised by the pictures shown by his mother.

There sat Roblan around his late twenties, looking like a hero from some tragic romance ballad despite his attempts at disguise. The hood of his cloak couldnʼt hide the perfect line of his jaw or the way his golden hair caught what little light reached his hiding spot.

Even trying to be invisible, the man was drawing lingering looks from every woman in the establishment.

”Youʼre really bad at hiding for someone whose life depends on it,” Jolthar announced, dropping into the seat across from Roblan.

He took a deliberate sip from his ale, watching with amusement as the other man nearly jumped out of his skin. ”I mean, seriously? The mysterious hooded figure routine? You might as well have hung a sign around your neck saying, ʼHello, Iʼm being hunted by rose women; please find me here.ʼ”

Roblanʼs hand had gone to a concealed weapon, but Jolthar just waved it away. ”Oh, put that down before you hurt yourself, pretty boy. Iʼm here from your mother. Though after hearing some interesting rumours around town, Iʼm starting to think she didnʼt tell us quite everything about your... situation.”

The baronessʼs son slowly relaxed, though his eyes kept darting to the tavernʼs doors and windows. He understood that his mother had gotten his letter, but he couldnʼt help but worry seeing the young Jolthar.

”How old are you?” He asked with a really curious doubt. Because Jolthar was just a teen who looked barely old enough to be out on his own, let alone coming to rescue.

Jolthar smirked, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes as he replied, ”Old enough to handle whatever your situation may be.”

”Do you even know about the people who are after me?”

”Yes, I do.”

Up close, Jolthar could see why heʼd earned such a reputation. The man looked like heʼd been carved from marble by an artist with a particularly romantic vision – high cheekbones, soulful eyes, the kind of features that probably made poetry write itself.

Currently, those perfect features are creased with worry.

”We need to leave,” Roblan whispered urgently. ”The Blue Rose has people everywhere. If you found me—”

”Oh, theyʼll definitely find you too,” Jolthar agreed cheerfully, taking another sip of his ale. ”In fact, Iʼm counting on it. Thatʼs why I made sure to ask about you rather loudly in three different taverns on my way here. Iʼd give it...” he glanced at the gradually darkening sky through the grimy window.

”maybe another hour before their representatives arrive?”

Roblanʼs face went from worried to horrified. ”You... you want them to come find us? Are you insane?”

”Probably!” Jolthar replied with a grin that didnʼt quite reach his eyes.

”But see, hereʼs the thing – Iʼd rather deal with this mess here and now than drag it back to the barony. Less collateral damage that way, you understand?

Speaking of messes...” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. ”Why donʼt you tell me exactly why the Blue Rose wants you dead? And please, make it good. Iʼve bet myself a silver piece that itʼs something spectacularly stupid.”

For a moment, Roblan looked like he might bolt, but then his shoulders slumped. ”It... it wasnʼt supposed to end up like this,” he began, and Jolthar had to admit the man even managed to make dejection look attractive.

”It started with Belon—the daughter. We met when she came to negotiate ore prices at the barony.”

”Yes, yes, love at first sight, burning passion, forbidden romance, Iʼm sure it was all very exciting,” Jolthar waved impatiently. ”Skip to the part where it all went wrong.”

Roblan took a deep breath. ”Things were wonderful at first. She brought me to stay at the main house of the Blue Rose. Iʼd never seen anything like it – such luxury, such power. And Belon... she was everything Iʼd ever dreamed of.”

”Iʼm sensing a ʼbutʼ coming,” Jolthar commented dryly. ”A very large ʼbutʼ that probably makes me want to smack you.”

”If you talk to me like that, then we are going to have a problem,” Roblan said, feeling irritated.

”Sensitive now, are we? You sure sound arrogant for someone who ran away with a lover, leaving behind their mother and sister,” Jolthar spoke right in his face.

Roblan averted his gaze, feeling a surge of guilt and shame wash over him. He knew he had made a mistake, but the allure of Belon and the Blue Rose had been too strong to resist. Now, faced with Joltharʼs piercing words, he couldnʼt help but wonder if he had made the right choice after all.

”So, stop bothering with me and continue with your fairy tale,” Jolthar said nonchalantly. He wasnʼt giving him respect, not for the one who ran away from a family that cares for you.

”Her mother, Raayani...” Roblanʼs voice grew quieter. ”She invited us both to drink with her one evening. The wine was... strong. Exotic. One thing led to another, and...”

Jolthar closed his eyes, praying to whatever gods might be listening for patience. ”Please donʼt tell me you slept with the mother of the woman you were courting.

Please. I donʼt have enough ale in front of me for that level of stupidity.”