The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 360: Did you sleep well?

"Kaezhlar will argue that Rothgard was enslaving his people," Varnik pointed out.

"That was a necessary action."

"Let him argue," Richardus said.

"The legal principle is clear; only the Ministry of Justice has authority to execute sitting nobles. Whether Rothgard was a saint or a monster is irrelevant to that fact.

The law was broken. That’s all that matters."

Hernais stood and moved to a window overlooking the estate grounds.

"And if we succeed? If the trial proceeds to full prosecution?"

"Then Kaezhlar faces years of legal proceedings," Richardus said.

"During which time, he cannot effectively manage Tekkora. His reputation is destroyed. His allies distance themselves to avoid the taint. And most importantly—" he looked directly at Hernais "—questions arise about the legitimacy of the barony’s current leadership. Questions that could result in imperial intervention and reorganization."

"Meaning I could petition for control," Hernais finished.

"As the rightful heir to the Rothgard line, yes. Especially if Cleora is shown to be associated with a convicted criminal."

Varnik moved to stand beside his father. "And the women? Cleora and the Matriarch?"

Richardus’s expression hardened slightly.

"They’re complications, but manageable. Cleora’s influence comes from her father. Weaken that, and she weakens. As for Raayani—" he paused "—she’s more dangerous. The Blue Rose has reach and resources. But she also has a reputation to maintain. If this becomes too messy, too public, or too potentially damaging to her business interests, she may choose to step back rather than risk everything for one man."

"You’re gambling on that," Hernais observed.

"All politics is gambling," Richardus replied.

"But I’m betting with good odds. Tomorrow’s trial will catch them unprepared. We press the advantage, force them into a defensive position, and watch their coalition fracture under pressure."

Hernais turned from the window, his expression determined.

"Then let’s ensure tomorrow goes perfectly. What do you need from us?"

"Just be present," Richardus said, standing to leave.

"Looks like a grieving family seeking justice for a murdered relative. Let me handle the legal maneuvering."

As Richardus departed, Hernais and Varnik remained in the study. Father and son looked at each other, sharing a moment of anticipation.

"Finally," Varnik said quietly.

"Finally, we’ll make them pay for everything they took from us."

Hernais nodded, though his expression was more calculating than emotional. He didn’t actually care about his brother’s death; Rothgard had been a brutal fool who brought his fate upon himself. But the barony, the resources, and the position mattered.

Those had value.

And tomorrow, he will begin taking them back.

***

Jolthar’s eyes opened to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. His body was pleasantly tired, the kind of exhaustion that came from a night well spent.

He stretched, feeling the cool sheets against his skin, then rolled over, expecting to find warmth beside him.

The bed was empty.

He sat up, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

The room was quiet, the only sound the distant chirping of birds in the villa’s garden.

Both women were gone. He smiled as he thought about them having energy to get up after last night’s intense session.

Jolthar swung his legs off the bed and reached for his pants, pulling them on before padding barefoot toward the chamber that adjoined the bedroom.

As he opened the door, he found them.

Cleora and Raayani sat on opposite sides of a small sitting area, both fully dressed in their morning clothes. Their heads were bowed slightly, and there was something distinctly sheepish about their postures.

Neither looked at him as he entered.

"What happened?" Jolthar asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Raayani lifted her head first, her normally composed expression showing traces of embarrassment.

"All of the servants," she said quietly, "and even the prince... they seemed to have heard us last night."

Jolthar’s eyebrows rose slightly.

"They were all smiling at us," Cleora added, not meeting his eyes.

"When we came out this morning. The servants kept giving us these looks. And Prince Milan—" she sighed heavily "—Milan looked entirely too amused when we passed him in the hallway."

Jolthar couldn’t help it.

A smirk spread across his face.

"So what?"

Both women looked at him incredulously.

"So what?"

Raayani repeated.

"Jolthar, we were... the entire household heard—" She stopped, struggling to articulate her mortification.

"It may not be a big deal to you," she finally managed, "but it is for me. I have a reputation to maintain. I’m the Blue Rose Matriarch, not some... some tavern girl who—"

"Don’t worry," Jolthar interrupted, moving to sit beside her on the cushioned bench.

Before Raayani could protest or continue her complaint, he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. His hand moved to her chest, crushing her bosom through the fabric of her dress. The kiss was possessive and intense, leaving no room for argument or embarrassment.

When he finally released her, Raayani’s face was flushed, her breath coming faster. Whatever words she had been preparing died unspoken.

Cleora watched from across the room, her own cheeks coloring at the display.

Jolthar stood up, completely unbothered by the situation.

"I’m starving," he announced casually, as if he hadn’t just thoroughly kissed one of the empire’s most powerful women into silence.

"Why don’t we go and eat?"

He walked back into the bedroom to finish dressing, leaving both women to collect themselves.

Raayani touched her lips, still feeling the intensity of his kiss.

Beside her, earlier embarrassment seemed almost trivial now.

Cleora shook her head slowly, a reluctant smile forming. There was no point trying to maintain dignity around Jolthar when he was in this mood.

*

The dining room of Milan’s villa was bright and airy, with tall windows overlooking the garden. A table had been set with breakfast: fresh bread, cheese, fruits, and cold meats alongside hot tea.

Milan was already seated, reading through some papers while he ate.

When the three of them entered, he looked up with that same amused smile the women had mentioned.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly.

"I trust everyone slept well?"