The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 404: Women from the Pinkblosom

”Protect the barony, protect the people. And if anyone tries to cause trouble—” he looked directly into those intelligent eyes ”—you have my permission to make them regret it. Thoroughly.”

The Drake’s lips pulled back, revealing rows of teeth designed to tear through armor and bone. If Jolthar didn’t know better, he’d swear she was grinning.

The sound of approaching footsteps made both of them turn.

Cleora and Nora emerged from the villa, Cleora carrying a sealed letter and Nora dressed in her traveling gear, clearly preparing for departure.

”Telling her to stay in the capital?” Nora asked with amusement, watching Jolthar scratch under Maelruth’s jaw again.

”No, I was just telling her some things.”

”And we’ve reached an understanding,” Jolthar replied.

”She takes care of you, and I will treat her to lots of meat when I return.”

Milan appeared behind the women, and Cleora immediately approached him with the letter. ”Prince Milan, would you be so kind as to send this to the Madam Secretary? I’m confirming our next meeting and providing the financial projections she requested.”

”Of course,” Milan said, taking the letter.

Then his eyes went to Nora, and that familiar flush started creeping up his neck again.

”You’re leaving already? I mean, not that you shouldn’t leave if you need to, but... will you return to the capital? Perhaps soon? Not that I’m suggesting you need to, just that if you wanted to—”

”I should go,” Nora interrupted smoothly, either not noticing or kindly ignoring his flustered rambling.

”We have a lot of work pending and stuff to sort out. Once we are done with that, I might come back to the capital to enjoy Prince Milan’s hospitality.”

”That’s good. Great, excellent,” Milan caught himself.

”I mean, you can come anytime you want.”

Jolthar watched this exchange with barely contained amusement.

He walked over to Cleora and took her hand, pulling her close.

”Try not to work yourself to death with administrative duties,” he said, then kissed her deeply enough to make Nora look away with exaggerated discomfort.

”I’ll be back soon,” Cleora promised when they parted.

”A week, maybe two at most. The Madam Secretary is interested in establishing formal trade agreements, and I need to handle those negotiations personally.”

”I’ll be here,” Jolthar assured her.

”Probably getting into more trouble, but here, nonetheless.”

He helped Cleora mount Maelruth first, the drake lowering herself to make the climb easier. Then he assisted Nora, who was more athletic and needed less help but accepted it gracefully.

”Take care of yourselves,” Nora said, looking down at him from the drake’s back.

”And try not to fight any more deities while we’re gone.”

”No promises,” Jolthar replied with a grin.

Maelruth stood to her full height, wings spreading in preparation for takeoff. The backyard was barely large enough for the maneuver, but drakes were remarkably agile for their size.

”Safe travels!” Milan called out, waving. His eyes lingered on Nora, perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

”You know,” Jolthar said conversationally as Maelruth’s wings began to beat, stirring up wind, ”for someone who spent years thinking everyone here was an NPC, you’re staring at that particular character with remarkable intensity.”

Milan’s head snapped toward him.

”I’m not—”

”You absolutely are,” Jolthar interrupted.

”I’m surprised you haven’t asked her to pose for a portrait so you can gaze at it during her absence.”

”That’s not—” Milan started, then stopped because Maelruth was launching into the air, and he was indeed watching Nora’s departure with undisguised longing.

The drake circled once over the villa, Cleora and Nora both waving, then banked toward the east and accelerated.

Within moments, they were distant shapes against the morning sky, then gone entirely.

Milan stood staring at the empty sky with an expression that was almost melancholic.

”You’ve got it bad,” Jolthar observed.

”Shut up,” Milan muttered without heat.

”I’m just saying, in my previous life, this is about when the protagonist would start writing terrible poetry or practicing dramatic speeches for when they meet again—”

”I will have you arrested,” Milan threatened.

”No, you won’t. You started to like me.”

Jolthar clapped him on the shoulder.

”Besides, someone needs to give you relationship advice, and it’s clearly not going to be Andrion.”

”What’s not going to be me?” Andrion’s voice came from the villa entrance. Andrion had been staying in the villa ever since the court incident, and he had never gone to his mansion even once, making Milan doubt his brother.

Meanwhile, Andrion was just bored, and staying with Jolthar had brought him much more thrilling events than staying in his mansion. So he was just tagging Jolthar wherever he went.

The prince approached with his characteristic energy, but he was followed by several women in elegant attire that marked them as belonging to one of the capital’s upscale establishments.

Milan and Jolthar looked right past him, making him confused. So he turned back and was startled to see that a few women were behind him all this time.

He didn’t even know when they had come.

They walked along with Andrion and stopped in front of Milan and Jolthar.

The women bowed respectfully to the princes and to Jolthar. Their leader, a woman in her thirties with sharp eyes and a professional demeanor, spoke.

”Baron Kaezhlar, we’ve been sent by Mistress Rani of the Pinkblosom House. Our lady requests the honor of your presence at the mansion today. We’ve been instructed to escort you personally.”

Jolthar raised an eyebrow. They had sent a letter, and now they sent women to take them.

”That’s quite formal for a pleasure house invitation.”

”The Pinkblossom House is many things, my lord,” the woman replied smoothly.

”But common is not among them. Our mistress does not extend personal invitations lightly.”

Andrion was practically vibrating with excitement. He was beyond delighted, practically grinning like an idiot.

”Oh, we have to go. We absolutely must go. Didn’t I tell you already? The Pinkblossom House is an incredible haven for women and men, and if Mistress Rani herself is requesting your presence, that’s a sign of exceptional interest.”

”I don’t know,” Jolthar said doubtfully.

”I’m not particularly interested in—”

”In experiencing the finest establishment in the capital? In meeting one of the most influential women in Cahns’ar? In an experience that nobles literally spend fortunes to access?”

Andrion shook his head.

He turned to Milan and held his shoulders, and said, ”Brother, tell him he needs to go.”