The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 410: His mother’s friend, aunty

They moved into the courtyard, where a large tree provided shade during the day and privacy now. The pathway was open to the night air, stars visible overhead, the sounds of the city distant.

Jazmin stopped under the tree and turned to face him.

”First, I want to apologize for my son’s behavior. Both the arm wrestling challenge and the questions about your legal troubles. Henricus can be... impulsive and arrogant.”

”He’s young and trying to prove himself,” Jolthar said diplomatically.

”I’ve seen worse.”

The reason they were all trying to be chummy with him was that he was from the Kaezhlar clan, and the fact that he had defeated a great general at a young age. If he were powerful at this young age, what would he become when he grows up? And also the fact that he had developed the barony into such a large station for trade and commerce shows his intellect. That’s why they were all so eager to know him and get acquainted with him.

”That’s gracious of you.”

Jazmin stepped closer, and Jolthar caught the scent of her perfume mixed with wine.

”Second, I want you to know that I don’t believe any of the crimes the Ministry claims you committed. I’ve dealt with Minister Richardus before. He’s a snake who uses the legal system as a weapon against anyone who threatens his influence.”

”That’s my assessment as well,” Jolthar agreed.

Jazmin was now standing very close, closer than mere conversation required.

Her eyes, slightly glazed from intoxication, roamed over him with undisguised interest.

”You’re quite remarkable, Baron.

Young, powerful, and unafraid of authority. It’s... refreshing.”

She swayed slightly, and Jolthar instinctively reached out to steady her. His hands found her waist, and the moment he touched her, Jazmin let out a soft moan that was definitely not just about maintaining balance.

Jolthar smirked.

”Duchess, are you alright?”

”More than alright,” Jazmin breathed.

She looked up at him, her face flushed, her breathing slightly elevated.

”I like young men with strong hands. They have such confident touches.”

She leaned into him, her body pressing against his.

”Do you know how rare it is to find someone who doesn’t immediately cower when faced with power?”

”I have some idea,” Jolthar replied, his hands still on her waist, feeling her warmth through the fabric of her dress.

Jazmin reached up and kissed his cheek—a gesture that started chaste but lingered longer than propriety suggested.

When she pulled back slightly, her lips were near his ear.

”I could show you things, Baron. Pleasures that most men only dream about. I have experience, resources, and very few inhibitions when something interests me.”

Her hand moved to his chest, fingers tracing patterns through his clothing. Jolthar responded by moving his own hands—one sliding slightly higher on her back, the other dipping lower to her hip, pulling her closer.

Jazmin gasped, her eyes closing briefly.

”Yes, exactly like that...”

For a moment, they stood there in the courtyard, the tension between them electric. Jolthar could feel her heart racing and could sense how much she wanted to continue this encounter.

Then Jazmin took a shaky breath and stepped back, though her hand remained on his chest. ”Not now,” she said, regret evident in her voice.

”Not here, not tonight. We’re expected back, and disappearing together would create... complications.”

”Complications seem to follow me everywhere,” Jolthar observed.

”Then one more won’t make much difference.” Jazmin’s smile was promising.

”Visit me, Baron. At the Akupa estate. Soon. And we’ll continue this conversation in more... private circumstances.”

She withdrew completely then, smoothing her dress and attempting to compose herself. With a final look that held both promise and challenge, she turned and walked back toward the hall, her gait slightly unsteady but her bearing still dignified.

Jolthar watched her go, his own body reminding him that he was, indeed, just a young man with normal appetites being propositioned by an attractive, powerful, experienced woman who clearly knew exactly what she wanted.

”Well,” he muttered to himself.

”This evening is certainly full of surprises.”

He started walking back toward the hall, giving himself a moment to regain composure, when another figure appeared in the corridor.

Lady Verawati stood there, watching him with an expression that suggested she knew exactly what had just transpired in the courtyard. Her smile was knowing but not judgmental.

”Baron Kaezhlar,” she said warmly.

”Enjoying the evening?”

”It’s been...educational,” Jolthar replied carefully.

Verawati laughed softly.

”I imagine it has been.”

She moved closer, her bearing more maternal than seductive despite being a beautiful woman herself.

”I wanted to speak with you briefly before you returned to the gathering.”

”About what, Lady Verawati?”

”I knew your mother,” Verawati said, and the statement made Jolthar’s attention sharpen immediately.

”When we were young women, before either of us married or took on our current positions. She was kind to me during a difficult time in my life.”

Jolthar had few memories of his mother from this body’s childhood—the original Jolthar’s memories were fragmentary regarding his early years.

”I didn’t know she had connections in the capital.”

”It was before I was married and came to the capital,” Verawati explained.

”Before many things changed. But I remembered her fondly, and when I heard about her son making such waves in the capital...”

She smiled.

”I was curious. And now that I’ve met you, I can see some of her in you. The same refusal to accept injustice, the same strength of will.”

”That’s kind of you to say,” Jolthar replied.

”It’s the truth.”

Verawati reached out and gently touched his arm.

”Visit me sometime, when you have the chance. Not for politics or intrigue, but simply to talk. I would like to know you better, for your mother’s sake if nothing else. And perhaps I can share stories about her that you’ve never heard.”

”I would appreciate that,” Jolthar said sincerely.

”Good.”

Verawati withdrew her hand.

”Now, we should both return before our absence is noted. Though I suspect Duchess Jazmin’s absence has already raised some eyebrows.”

She walked past him with a final warm smile, leaving Jolthar standing in the corridor, processing the evening’s unexpected turns.

A proposition from a duchess.

An offer of connection from someone who knew his mother.

And somewhere in the main hall, the second Empress and her companions were waiting to continue whatever assessment they were conducting.

Jolthar straightened his clothes and took a deep breath.

”Right,” he said to himself.

”Back to the performance.”

And he walked back toward the hall, ready to navigate whatever came next in this strange evening of power, pleasure, and political maneuvering.