The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 339: Two women, Jolthar in the middle, a jealous man

Beside him, Jolthar could feel Cleora’s tension radiating like heat from a forge.

The baroness had not missed the predatory gleam in Raayani’s eyes, nor the way the woman positioned herself to display her considerable charms to their best advantage.

For her part, Cleora understood exactly what game was being played—she had been like her once herself, and had wielded her own beauty as both shield and sword in the complex dance of noble politics.

"And might I inquire," Raayani continued, her voice dropping to a more intimate register, "where you might be travelling on so bitter a winter day?"

"The Imperial City," Jolthar replied truthfully, seeing no reason for deception.

"His Imperial Majesty has requested the baroness’s presence at court."

Raayani’s eyes lit up with an inner fire that had nothing to do with reflected sunlight.

"How absolutely perfect! I, too, was planning to make the journey to the capital—certain business arrangements require my personal attention."

She paused, tilting her head with calculated charm.

"Perhaps we might travel together? The roads can be so terribly dangerous for lone travelers, and there is safety in numbers."

Gunter was fuming inside; though she told him to go back to his spire, he couldn’t bear to lose her, so he followed her like a lost puppy.

His fists balled as he just endured the love of his life openly flirting with a young man.

Gunter had secretly enjoyed the woman in the seraglio, but nobody could measure up to Raayani. He was obsessed with her.

The other two members of the harem had left quietly, but he just couldn’t do it. He wanted to fight for her attention; that’s why he tagged along with her.

It was at this moment that Gunter, who had been silent throughout this exchange, seemed to remember his own capacity for charm.

His gaze fell upon Cleora, taking in her mature beauty with eyes that had been trained to appreciate such things through his years as Raayani’s companion.

Here was a woman who possessed the kind of refined elegance that came only with experience—none of the raw inexperience of youth, but rather the polished allure of someone who had learned to use every weapon in her considerable arsenal.

"Baroness Cleora," he said, his voice smooth and cultured as he executed a perfect courtly bow, "might I say that the winter air has only served to enhance your already legendary beauty? You appear as radiant as the morning star itself."

The compliment was expertly delivered, and Cleora felt a familiar stirring of satisfaction at being properly appreciated.

Here was a man who understood how to court a woman of substance, who recognized that maturity brought its own powerful attractions.

Still, she could not entirely suppress the scowl that crossed her features—partly at Raayani’s obvious designs on her young lover, and partly at finding herself in the awkward position of being courted by another man in front of Jolthar.

"You are most kind, Sir," she replied with careful politeness, though her blue eyes remained guarded.

"I am Gunter, of Ivory Spire," he introduced himself.

Jolthar raised an eyebrow. He did hear about the spire, the mages’ training tower, and one of the biggest organizations to exist in the empire.

Cleora, too, was surprised and said, "I have heard much about Ivory Spire and its esteemed reputation," she said, her curiosity piqued.

"It is an honour to meet someone from such a prestigious institution."

Gunter, emboldened by what he interpreted as encouragement, stepped closer.

"If I may be so bold, my lady, I have long admired your skill in the management of your own domain. The innovations you’ve brought to Tekkora’s agricultural practices have been the subject of much discussion among scholars of statecraft. Perhaps, during our journey—for I assume we shall all be travelling together—we might find an opportunity to discuss such matters at greater length?"

Tekkora’s development had already reached the far ends of the empire, and now, almost every merchant was aware of it.

"No, I have done nothing; it is all my daughter who has accomplished it."

It was true; Nora was the one who had improved the agricultural practices of the barony and had also grown a lot of commercial crops.

The irony of the situation was not lost on any of the four participants.

Jolthar’s lips curved into a faint smile, amused by what he was trying to do. He wasn’t bothered by what Gunter was trying to do.

In fact, he was looking forward to seeing how Cleora would handle it.

Raayani, having dismissed Gunter in favour of pursuing the much younger Jolthar, now found her former lover attempting to seduce her rival for the young baron’s affections.

Cleora, secure in her relationship with Jolthar but not blind to the appeal of being courted by an accomplished man, felt torn between irritation and flattery.

And Jolthar himself, barely past twenty and suddenly the object of attention from a woman legendary for her conquests, found himself feeling like a deer surrounded by hunters.

"Well," Raayani said with satisfaction, clapping her hands together in a gesture of decision, "it seems we are all bound for the same destination. How delightfully convenient! My own carriage is quite spacious and well-appointed for winter travel—perhaps we might all journey together in comfort?"

The suggestion hung in the air like smoke, fraught with implications and unspoken possibilities. Jolthar glanced at Cleora, seeking what she thought, but found her expression unreadable.

Gunter, meanwhile, had straightened visibly at the prospect of extended proximity to the mature baroness whose reputation for intelligence matched her renowned beauty.

"That is... most generous of you, Lady Raayani," Jolthar managed, his voice betraying none of the confusion he felt at being the centre of such intense and complex attention.

And so it was that four souls, each carrying their own desires, ambitions, and complications, prepared to embark upon a journey that would test not only their physical endurance against the harsh winter roads but also their emotional resilience against forces far more treacherous than any blizzard.

They arranged their belongings and prepared to depart.