The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 409: Entertainment for the milfs - 3

Joltharʼs arm was perhaps two inches from the table. Victory was seconds away for Henricus.

Then Jolthar stopped resisting and instead channeled a fraction—just a fraction—of his actual power.

He was just toying with Henricus.

”Actually,” Jolthar said conversationally, ”Iʼm stronger than you can imagine.”

In one explosive motion, he reversed the pressure completely. Henricusʼs eyes went wide as his arm was driven back with irresistible force. He tried to rally, pouring all his enhanced strength into resistance, but it was like trying to stop an avalanche with willpower.

SLAM

Jolthar drove Henricusʼs hand down onto the table with enough force to make the wood crack slightly. The sound echoed through the suddenly silent hall.

For a moment, no one moved.

Henricus stared at his pinned hand in disbelief. He had been winning, had been seconds from victory, and then had been completely overwhelmed in an instant.

Jolthar released his grip and leaned back casually.

”Youʼve got strength. Youʼre quite strong—for a Tier 9 warrior enhanced with standard magical reinforcement.”

”But not enough to make me lose.”

The subtle implication that Henricus was merely adequate, while Jolthar operated on an entirely different level, was clear to everyone present.

Dayamatiʼs expression was one of delighted surprise.

”Well. That was certainly entertaining.”

”Very entertaining,” Jazmin agreed, though she shot her son a look that promised a conversation later.

Henricus stood, rubbing his wrist, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger.

”Best of three?” he suggested, trying to salvage his pride.

”I think once is sufficient,” Jolthar replied easily.

”Unless Your Majesty desires more entertainment?”

Dayamati laughed—a genuine sound of amusement.

”No, no. Youʼve proven your point admirably. Sit, both of you. Letʼs continue our conversation.”

As Jolthar returned to his seat, accepting a fresh glass of wine from a servant, he caught Milanʼs eye. The prince gave him a subtle nod of approval.

*

The atmosphere in the hall had grown more relaxed as the wine continued to flow.

Conversations overlapped, laughter punctuated discussions, and the initial formality had given way to something more convivial, though the underlying currents of power and assessment remained.

Henricus, still smarting from his defeat, apparently decided to redirect the conversation to more comfortable territory.

He cleared his throat, drawing attention.

”Baron Kaezhlar, if I may ask—thereʼs been much talk about the charges brought against you by the Ministry. Murder and embezzlement are serious accusations. Were the ministers completely wrong in their assessment, or did you actually commit the crimes they claim?”

The question was designed to put Jolthar on the defensive, to force him into either admitting guilt or appearing to deflect.

Milan and Jolthar looked at Henricus; he had learned about everything regarding the incident and came here prepared.

”Henricus,” Jazmin said sharply, her voice cutting through the ambient conversation.

”Thatʼs enough. This is a social gathering, not an interrogation.”

”Iʼm merely curious, Mother,” Henricus replied, though he subsided under her glare.

Dayamati, however, seemed intrigued by the topic.

”No, let him answer. Iʼm curious as well.”

She turned her attention to Jolthar, her eyes slightly unfocused from the wine but still sharp.

”The charges were quite dramatic—executing a baron without authority, financial irregularities in Tekkoraʼs development. Whatʼs your version of events?”

Jolthar set down his wine glass.

”Baron Rothgard was enslaving his own people, torturing them in mines, letting them starve while he lived in excess. I stopped him. Permanently. As for the financial accusations, they were fabricated by Minister Richardus because Tekkoraʼs success threatened his ability to control who prospers in the empire.”

”Simple answers,” Verawati observed.

”But the legal complications are anything but simple.”

”Legal complications exist when people care more about procedure than justice,” Jolthar replied. ”Rothgardʼs crimes were real. My response was necessary. Everything else is political theater.”

Dayamati smiled, taking another drink.

”Youʼre not wrong about Minister Richardus. That man has a reputation for poking his nose where it doesnʼt belong, interfering in matters that donʼt concern him.”

She leaned back against her cushions.

”Itʼs probably the only reason youʼre walking free right now. If the ministers had truly wanted you imprisoned or executed, they could have mobilized imperial soldiers. The fact that they havenʼt suggests political calculation rather than genuine concern for justice.”

”Or it suggests they know those charges wouldnʼt survive scrutiny,” Milan interjected diplomatically.

”Baron Kaezhlar has powerful allies and legitimate justifications for his actions.”

”Perhaps,” Dayamati agreed.

”Or perhaps the ministers are simply waiting for the right moment to strike when his allies are less attentive.”

The conversation continued, wine flowing freely.

Jolthar noticed that his own glass was being refilled regularly, and while he was pacing himself, the room was definitely beginning to tilt into genuine intoxication for most present.

After some time, Jolthar stood.

”If youʼll excuse me, I need to relieve myself.”

”Of course,” Rani said, gesturing.

Then Rani ordered her servant to take him.

A woman in elegant house attire appeared and led Jolthar from the hall, through corridors decorated with art that ranged from tasteful to explicitly erotic, until they reached a private bathroom that was itself more luxurious than many noblesʼ bedrooms.

Jolthar took care of his needs and washed his hands, taking a moment to clear his head slightly. The wine had been excellent, and heʼd consumed more than heʼd intended. Not enough to impair him seriously, but enough to feel the pleasant warmth of mild intoxication.

When he emerged, the same woman was waiting to guide him back. They walked through the corridor, the sounds of the gathering distant and muffled.

Then a figure stepped into his path.

Duchess Jazmin Akupa stood in the corridor, having clearly followed him from the hall. Her posture was slightly unsteady, the wine affecting her more than it had Jolthar, but her expression was serious.

”Baron Kaezhlar,” she said.

”May I speak with you? Privately?”

Jolthar glanced at the guide, who immediately bowed and withdrew, leaving them alone in the corridor.

”Of course, Duchess,” Jolthar replied.

”Whatʼs on your mind?”

Jazmin gestured to a side passage that led to an open courtyard.

”Walk with me?”