The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 414: Late night visit from the duchess

”The Shishusuto,” Milan said, staring into his glass.

”Someone paid a fortune to have you killed. The question is, Who?”

Jolthar leaned back in his chair, a wry smile on his face.

”At this point, it could be almost anyone. I’ve made quite the collection of enemies during my brief stay in the capital. It’s actually impressive how quickly I’ve managed to piss off so many powerful people.”

”This isn’t funny,” Milan said, though there was a hint of exasperated amusement in his tone.

”It’s a little funny,” Jolthar countered.

”In a dark, absurd way. I came here for a trial about justified actions, and now assassins are trying to kill me in the streets. The escalation is almost comedic.”

Milan set down his glass.

”The ministers are the obvious suspects. Richardus especially—you humiliated him publicly when you walked out of that rigged trial.”

”Would they really go that far?” Jolthar asked.

Milan considered it.

”Honestly? Probably not. The ministers prefer official pressure, legal manipulation, and bureaucratic warfare. Hiring assassins is too direct, too risky. If it were traced back to them, the political fallout would destroy their careers.”

He paused.

”They’d only resort to assassination if they were desperate and certain they couldn’t be connected to it.”

”So probably not them,” Jolthar mused.

”What about Princess Tamnarasi? She has reason to want me dead after I defeated her.”

”She is proud, but she accepted her defeat,” Milan replied.

”I don’t see her hiring assassins. She’d want to face you again personally to restore her honor through combat.”

”Then who?” Jolthar leaned forward, thinking through the possibilities.

”Wait, what about people connected to her?”

Milan’s expression shifted to something more serious.

”Her mother... yes, that’s possible. And she has connections throughout the imperial court and beyond.”

”People loyal to her, who might act on her behalf without explicit orders,” Jolthar continued. ”Someone who saw me as a threat to the imperial order or to her interests.”

”It fits,” Milan agreed grimly.

”The Shishusuto wouldn’t care about the politics; they just take contracts from those who can afford them. And Tamnarasi’s faction certainly has the resources.”

”But we are without proof; we don’t have any evidence suggesting the people who ordered this assassination.”

They sat in contemplative silence for a moment, both understanding that identifying the source of the assassination attempt was only the first step. Proving it was another matter entirely.

A soft knock interrupted their discussion.

One of the villa’s maids entered, bowing respectfully.

”Your Highness and my lord, forgive the intrusion. There is... someone here to see Lord Jolthar.”

Both men looked at her in surprise. Milan glanced at a clock on the wall; it was well past midnight, approaching the early hours of morning.

”At this hour?” Milan asked.

”Who is it?”

The maid looked uncomfortable.

”They... asked not to give their name, my lord. But they insisted it was urgent and personal.”

Milan and Jolthar exchanged glances. After the assassination attempt, an unidentified visitor at this hour was immediately suspicious.

”Bring them in,” Milan said finally.

”But keep guards nearby.”

”Yes, your highness.”

The maid withdrew.

A moment later, a hooded figure entered the hall. The cloak completely concealed their identity, and they moved with deliberate steps that suggested careful control.

Both men tensed, ready for another attack.

But then the figure reached up and lowered their hood, revealing their face.

Duchess Jazmin Akupa smiled at them, her expression a mixture of amusement and satisfaction. ”Good evening, gentlemen. Or should I say good morning?”

Milan’s tension dissolved into understanding, followed quickly by resignation.

He looked at Jolthar with an expression that clearly said, ”You’re on your own with this one.”

”Duchess Jazmin,” Milan said, standing.

”This is... unexpected.”

”I’m sure it is,” Jazmin replied smoothly.

She was still dressed in the elegant attire from the Pinkblossom House, though she’d added the concealing cloak for travel.

”I apologize for the late hour, but I came to speak with Baron Kaezhlar. Privately, if possible.”

Milan sighed, the sound of a man who recognized when he was a third wheel to something beyond his concern.

”Of course. I was just heading to bed anyway.”

He looked at Jolthar.

”We’ll continue our discussion in the morning.”

”Looking forward to it,” Jolthar replied with a slight smirk.

Milan departed, leaving Jolthar alone with the duchess.

As his footsteps faded, Jazmin moved further into the room, removing her cloak entirely and draping it over a chair.

Jolthar deliberately leaned back in his seat, adopting a posture of casual disinterest.

”It’s very late, Duchess. What brings you to my temporary residence at such an hour?”

Jazmin’s smile widened, clearly recognizing his game of playing hard to get. She knew that Jolthar clearly knew why she came, yet he was asking her. Though she appreciated it, too many men were too eager, too easy.

This was more interesting.

The young man’s challenge was appealing to her.

”Let’s dispense with the pretense, shall we?” Jazmin said, moving closer.

”I’m attracted to you, Baron Kaezhlar. Deeply attracted. And I’m the type of woman who doesn’t sleep well when she wants something she doesn’t have.”

”Direct,” Jolthar observed.

”I appreciate that.”

”I’ve wanted you since I first saw your face in the papers,” Jazmin continued, settling into a chair near his but angling her body toward him.

”When the reports came about you defeating Lodawg, Naemarys’s strongest mage, I was intrigued. A young man, barely known, taking down such a formidable opponent? That spoke of exceptional ability. Then the stories kept coming: the transformation of Tekkora, the trial, defeating Princess.”

She leaned forward.

”Do you understand how rare it is to find someone genuinely exceptional rather than merely well-connected?”

”I’m starting to get an idea,” Jolthar replied with dry humor.

”And tonight,” Jazmin’s eyes gleamed, ”watching you handle that arm-wrestling match, the way you spoke to the Second Empress without cowering, the confidence you showed... and then in the courtyard...”

Her voice dropped lower.

”The way your hands felt on my waist. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

”Hence the midnight visit,” Jolthar concluded.

”Exactly.”