The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 403: Protect the barony

"You fought a deity while drunk and nearly died," Nora pointed out.

"Your judgment is questionable at best."

"Fair point," Jolthar conceded.

Milan was smiling now, the earlier tension and embarrassment completely gone.

"Thank you. Both of you. You have no idea how much it means to finally share this with people who understand. People who..."

He trailed off, emotion evident in his voice.

"People who know what it’s like to die once and wake up somewhere impossible?"

Jolthar finished. "Yeah, we get it."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, three people from another world, bound by shared experience and now shared purpose.

Finally, Nora spoke up.

"We should get back before Mother sends a search party. And Prince Milan—" she looked at him directly "—try not to turn into a blushing mess again when we return to the table. It’s distracting."

Milan’s face immediately flushed.

"I wasn’t—that is, I didn’t—"

"See?" Nora said to Jolthar.

"He’s doing it again."

"It’s kind of adorable," Jolthar observed.

"It’s embarrassing," Milan muttered.

"It’s human," Jolthar corrected gently.

"It’s okay, your highness. Even princes of empires aren’t immune to blushing."

"I don’t have a—" Milan started, then gave up when both Nora and Jolthar gave him flat looks.

Milan exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man negotiating with fate itself.

"Fine," he said at last.

"Perhaps I blush, occasionally. Under very specific circumstances."

"Such as?" Nora asked instantly, eyes gleaming with the enthusiasm of someone about to cause trouble.

"Such as when certain nobles," he replied carefully, "forget all diplomatic decorum and decide public humiliation is an acceptable hobby."

"That sounds suspiciously targeted," Jolthar murmured.

"It is targeted," Milan said.

"Extremely."

Nora clasped her hands behind her back, rocking slightly on her heels, completely unrepentant.

"Well, Your Highness, if you carried yourself with a little less tragic-poet energy, people might not find it so... entertaining."

"I do not carry tragic-poet energy."

Jolthar tilted his head.

"You stared into the middle distance for five full minutes after dessert."

"I was thinking."

"You sighed."

"It was a thoughtful sigh."

"It sounded like you’d just watched your kingdom fall," Nora said.

Milan opened his mouth, then shut it again. His ears had gone red now, not just his cheeks.

"Anyway," Nora continued breezily, pivoting before he could defend himself, "we really should return before Mother assumes you’ve done something, Jolthar."

"That would create paperwork," Jolthar said gravely.

"I try to avoid paperwork."

"And diplomatic incidents," Milan added.

"Those too. Though less boring."

They started back toward the hall, lantern light spilling across the marble corridor ahead. Voices and the clink of goblets drifted outward — the comfortable noise of nobility pretending everything in the empire was perfectly stable.

Milan slowed slightly.

"Do I actually look that ridiculous?" he asked, quieter now.

Nora glanced sideways at him. The teasing softened, just a fraction.

"No," she said. "You look honest. That just makes court people nervous."

Jolthar nodded once. "And honesty, in imperial politics, is either refreshing... or dangerous."

"Which am I?" Milan asked.

Nora smirked again. "Still deciding."

The doors to the hall loomed ahead. Milan squared his shoulders, the prince returning where the awkward young man had been moments ago.

"No blushing," he muttered to himself.

He stepped inside.

Nora immediately grinned.

"Ah," she whispered to Jolthar, "he’s doing it again."

Jolthar chuckled softly.

"Hopeless," he said. "But in a charming way."

And Milan, unfortunately, heard that too.

They switched back to the local language as they approached. Cleora and Andrion looked up as they entered, curiosity evident on their faces.

"Is everything alright?" Cleora asked.

"Everything’s fine, Mother," Nora assured her.

"We were just having an interesting conversation about... administrative matters."

"Very administrative," Jolthar agreed with a completely straight face.

"Extremely bureaucratic," Milan added, though his attempt at seriousness was somewhat undermined by the slight smile tugging at his lips.

Andrion looked between the three of them suspiciously.

"You’re all acting weird. What happened out there?"

"Nothing worth discussing," Milan said firmly, reclaiming his seat and his wine glass.

"Now, Nora, you were telling us about the new irrigation system in Tekkora. Please, continue."

As the conversation resumed, Jolthar caught Milan’s eye across the table and gave him a small nod. They had an understanding now—an alliance built not just on political convenience but on shared experience and genuine respect.

The race for the imperial throne hadn’t officially begun.

But when it did, Milan wouldn’t be facing it alone.

And it would be a bloody road ahead.

*

Villa - Backyard

Jolthar stood in the expansive backyard where Maelruth had settled after her arrival. The crimson drake was a magnificent creature up close, with scales that gleamed like polished rubies, intelligent amber eyes that tracked her every movement, and muscles that rippled with barely contained power beneath her hide.

As soon as she saw Jolthar coming, it shook her body in joy. Her eyes gleamed with happiness seeing him. She lowered her head towards him.

"Hey there, beautiful," Jolthar said quietly, reaching up to scratch under her jaw where the scales were smaller and more sensitive. Maelruth’s eyes half-closed in pleasure, a rumbling sound emanating from deep in her chest.

"I need you to do me a favor."

The drake tilted her head, as if listening.

"I’ll be staying in the capital for a while longer," Jolthar continued, pulling chunks of meat from a bucket that had been prepared for the beast. He tossed them up, and Maelruth caught them effortlessly, her jaws snapping shut with bone-crushing force.

"There’s still business here, complications to resolve. So I need you to keep guard of the barony while I’m gone. Can you do that?"

"Im sure Nytheria is there, but you should be alert and be with Nora all the time."

Maelruth’s rumble deepened, and she bumped her snout against his chest hard enough to make him stumble back a step—which, for a creature of her size and strength, was actually gentle.

"I’ll take that as a yes," Jolthar said with a smile, feeding her more meat.