The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 378: Eyes of the milfs

Cleora looked at Jolthar.

”What do you think? Should I go?”

”Of course,” Jolthar replied without hesitation.

”We came to the capital to make connections and establish Tekkora’s legitimacy. This is exactly the kind of opportunity we need. Besides—” he smiled slightly ”—you don’t need my permission. You’re perfectly capable of handling powerful merchants on your own.”

Cleora’s expression softened at his confidence in her.

”I’ll accept then.”

”Excellent,” Andrion said, his cheerful energy returning.

”Which means you gentlemen and I have the afternoon free. I propose we engage in the noble art of doing absolutely nothing productive. Perhaps some wine, some conversation, maybe a visit to somewhere interesting in the city?”

”Lazing around, you mean,” Milan said dryly.

”Exactly! The best kind of day.”

Andrion looked at Jolthar hopefully.

”What do you say? Give me a chance to get to know the man who’s turned the capital upside down in less than two days?”

Before Jolthar could respond, one of Milan’s close aides entered: a man named Arvant, who had served the prince for years. He was older, sharp-eyed, and clearly trusted based on how freely he approached.

”Your Highness,” Arvant said to Milan, then shot a meaningful glance at Andrion.

”Might I have a word? Privately?”

Milan noticed the look.

”It’s fine, Arvant. Speak freely.”

Arvant hesitated, then leaned closer to Milan but spoke loud enough that Jolthar could hear. ”Your Highness, I would counsel wariness regarding Prince Andrion’s... enthusiasm for Baron Kaezhlar’s company.”

Andrion’s smile didn’t falter, but something sharp flickered in his eyes.

”Arvant has never trusted you, brother,” Milan said mildly.

”Can you blame him?”

”Not at all,” Andrion replied smoothly.

”Arvant is loyal and protective. Admirable qualities. But also—” he looked directly at the aide ”—sometimes loyalty makes one overly suspicious. I have no nefarious intentions toward Baron Kaezhlar. I simply find him fascinating and wish to know him better.”

”That’s what concerns me,” Arvant muttered, but he bowed and withdrew, having delivered his warning.

An awkward silence settled over the breakfast table.

Finally, Jolthar spoke.

”I appreciate the warning, though I’m perfectly capable of handling political maneuvering. And—” he looked at Andrion directly ”—if you’re planning to use me for some scheme, you should know I don’t play games well. I tend to flip the board when I get bored.”

Andrion’s laugh was genuine.

”Oh, I believe that completely. No, Baron Kaezhlar, I’m not trying to use you. I’m genuinely interested in understanding you. You’re an anomaly, powerful, principled, and apparently immune to the usual political pressures. That’s rare enough to be worth cultivating as a genuine connection rather than a mere tool.”

”We’ll see,” Jolthar said noncommittally.

The reason that Andrion didn’t do anything to Arvant, who dared to speak in front of him like that, was because of his brother. On the outside they looked like they were fighting, but inside, Andrion cared for his brother.

*

Meanwhile, Across the Capital

In a different part of Cahns’ar, far from the noble district where Milan’s villa stood, lay a section of the city known colloquially as the Intimate District. It wasn’t precisely a red-light district; too many wealthy and powerful people frequented it for such a crude designation, but it was where pleasure, entertainment, and discretion intersected.

The finest establishment in this district was the Pinkblossom House, a sprawling estate that looked like an elegant mansion.

From the outside, it looked like any other wealthy residence. But those who knew could identify it by subtle signs: the pink flowering trees that grew nowhere else in the city, the particular quality of silk curtains in the windows, and the discrete symbols carved into the entrance gate.

Inside, the Pinkblossom House was luxurious beyond imagination. Every detail was designed for comfort and pleasure: soft lighting, expensive furnishings, art that ranged from tasteful to provocative, and staff trained to anticipate desires before they were spoken.

The Mistress of the Pinkblossom House was Rani Muccari, a woman in her forties who had built her establishment’s reputation on discretion, quality, and the ability to provide whatever her clients desired, within certain boundaries. She was beautiful in a mature, knowing way, with eyes that had seen everything and judged little.

This morning, she sat in her private chambers with a guest of particular significance.

Lady Jazmin Akupa, Duchess of the Akupa house, reclined on a plush divan, sipping tea that cost more per cup than most people earned in a week.

Jazmin was perhaps in her late forties, striking rather than beautiful, with sharp features and sharper eyes. Her family controlled significant industrial operations in the southern provinces, making her one of the wealthiest women in the empire in her own right.

She was also known for having opinions and not being afraid to voice them, which made her both respected and controversial in noble circles.

”Have you read the papers this morning?” Jazmin asked, setting down her cup.

Rani smiled slightly.

”Of course. The entire city is talking about nothing else. Baron Kaezhlar’s victory over Princess Tamnarasi is the scandal of the decade.”

”Scandal?”

Jazmin’s eyebrow arched.

”I’d call it revolutionary. When was the last time someone not only defied the imperial court but also defeated one of the Emperor’s own children in combat?”

”Not in living memory,” Rani acknowledged.

”Which makes it either the beginning of something new or the prelude to this young baron’s execution.”

”Possibly both.”

Jazmin leaned forward, her interest evident.

”I want to meet him.”

”I suspected you might,” Rani said with amusement.

”You’ve always had a taste for dangerous men.”

”Not dangerous. Interesting,” Jazmin corrected.

”And Baron Kaezhlar is certainly that: a young man powerful enough to defeat an imperial princess, principled enough to risk everything for his people, and apparently attractive enough to win the hearts of both Cleora Aravain and Raayani of the Blue Rose.”

She smiled. ”That’s a combination worth investigating.”

”For business or pleasure?” Rani asked knowingly.

”Why not both?” Jazmin replied.

”The Akupa house could benefit from connections to a rising power like Tekkora. And personally... well, I’m curious what makes him so special that two of the empire’s most desirable women are apparently willing to share him.”