The Sinful Young Master

Jolthar leaned back in his chair; he watched the red-robed men who stood near Liliana and Lorryll. They were all at least tier 6 or above. And like aura, he could sense the mana flowing around them.

The red-robed figures were unmistakable, their presence exuding an aura of power and authority that made even seasoned warriors cautious.

Though Jolthar hadn't encountered them before, he had heard whispers—rumours that painted them as an elite force of the Naemarys clan, both rare and immensely powerful. But their arrival now, during a feast celebrating the second young master, was an enigma that sparked his curiosity.

And the way Liliana was handling him, Jolthar could tell that he wasn't her man, and he would act the way she wanted. He shook his head, thinking that this world was full of women who played with men like they were toys. And he had encountered a couple of them already.

As he contemplated this, a familiar figure approached him—Eran. He had come with Lady Maena, and she was already in a conversation with a man of some family.

"What are you doing here, Jolthar?" Eran asked, his tone light but probing. "Sitting in a corner like some old recluse. You should join the other young people of the clan and mingle a bit."

Jolthar smirked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he replied, "Why would I ruin their night by showing up? Besides, I enjoy watching the games unfold from the sidelines. It gives me a better view of who's winning and who's losing."

Eran chuckled, shaking his head. "You've always had a way with words. But don't you ever get tired of watching?

You might learn more if you actually join in."

"I learn plenty from where I am," Jolthar replied, his tone casual but sharp.

"Take Lorryll, for instance. He's being avoided like the plague tonight. Care to explain why?"

Eran's gaze shifted toward Lorryll, who was indeed standing alone, the crowd subtly moving around him as though he were invisible. Even his wife, Liliana, seemed to be the only one speaking with him, though their interactions were more curt than cordial.

Eran leaned closer, lowering his voice as he said, "It seems the rumours are true."

"Rumours?" Jolthar asked, tilting his head slightly, his interest piqued.

Eran gave him a knowing look. "Word has it that Lorryll has plans to join the Naemarys clan."

Jolthar blinked, his brows furrowing. "What? Why would he do that?"

Eran leaned back, crossing his arms. "It's more complicated than that. A few days ago, Lorryll made a public announcement—he's planning to establish the Kaezhlar clan castle in the city. As the eldest, he declared that the main residence would fall under his leadership, and he hinted at taking over operations as the next patriarch."

Jolthar's expression darkened slightly, a rare moment of unguarded emotion slipping through his composed façade. "He dared to make such a declaration while the patriarch is still alive? That's a bold move—or a foolish one."

Eran nodded. "It gets better. The clan summoned him to answer for his actions, and he didn't come alone. He showed up with those red-robed men—the mages of the Naemarys clan. You saw them yourself."

Jolthar's eyes narrowed as he glanced back at the robed men. The pieces were starting to fit together, but the picture they formed was troubling. "And the connection to Naemarys?" he asked, his tone cautious.

Eran grinned, the kind of grin that said he enjoyed being the bearer of scandal. "There's talk that he's been bewitched by the 'Flower of the Magic Clan.' The woman standing beside him right now, Liliana, as you can see, she is certainly a beauty and seems cunning too. Some say she's the reason he's been acting like this—leaving the clan's estate, making reckless decisions."
Read new adventures at empire

Jolthar leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand as he considered this information. His sharp mind began piecing together not just the events but the motives behind them. If Lorryll had truly aligned himself with the Naemarys clan, it wasn't just a personal matter—it was a direct challenge to the clan's unity and power structure. And the marriage initiation by the Naemarys clan, now it all seemed like a deliberate plan by the magic clan.

He wondered if the red mages were here on purpose. Were they trying to attack the Kaezhlar clan? That seemed unlikely, although Naemarys's clan was powerful, he didn't think they would be capable enough to directly attack the Kaezhlar clan. After all, the Kaezhlar weren't your typical clan.

"And here I thought tonight would be boring," Jolthar said, his smirk returning as he sat back in his chair.

"Tell me, Eran, do you think the Flower bewitched him, or is Lorryll simply showing his true colours?"

Eran shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it's a bit of both. But one thing's for sure—if the patriarch returns and this comes to light, there's bound to be chaos."

Jolthar chuckled softly, though his eyes remained cold and calculating. "Chaos, you say? Well, I suppose that's one way to keep things interesting."

Eran shook his head with a laugh. "You're something else, Jolthar. Always watching, always calculating. Just be careful—someone might be watching you too." Eran thought that matter didn't really concern him, so he was not bothered by Jolthar's words. He thought that Jolthar was being his playful self, and the things he just said were just rumours; they were just gossiping, which was what Eran thought.

Jolthar's smirk widened, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Let them. I've always enjoyed an attentive audience."

With that, Eran walked off, leaving Jolthar to his thoughts. He cast one more glance at Lorryll, the wheels of his mind turning. Whatever Lorryll's plans were, they reeked of ambition—and desperation.

And Jolthar, as always, intended to use every piece of information to his advantage.

-

The hall buzzed with lively conversations and laughter, its atmosphere a mixture of formality and anticipation.

Davis, Isora, and an elderly woman entered, drawing the attention of many.

The old woman, their grandmother, carried an air of wisdom and command that silenced whispers as she passed. She was in her sixties, with grey hair pulled back in a tight bun, her eyes sharp and observant as she surveyed the room.

Jolthar's eyes briefly flickered toward her, instantly recognizing her. He remembered their past conversations from years ago, her sharp mind and piercing gaze leaving a strong impression on him even then.

Trailing behind the trio were Orimus, Tolian, and Elara.

The latter three moved in with a deliberate air, their presence turning a few heads.

Elara, Davis, and Isora gravitated toward the area where Lady Elowen and Wayde stood. The latter was already surrounded by a group of young women from the clan and other families, their admiration for the second young master evident.

Meanwhile, Orimus and Tolian veered toward the drinks table and then made their way to where Jolthar was sitting, still positioned in his quiet corner. Orimus found it very quickly despite the numbers in the hall.

Tolian, unable to resist his usual antics, leaned against the table near Jolthar and began spewing insults, his voice loud enough to be heard over the din of the hall.

"So, you're just going to sit here like some ghost at a feast?" Tolian said with a sneer.

"Or are you waiting for someone to pity you, bast—"

"Tolian," Orimus interrupted, his smirk barely concealed. "Let him be. It's not like he's used to being in proper company. Poor Jolthar probably feels out of place."

Jolthar remained silent, his expression calm, though his sharp eyes flicked toward Tolian and then Orimus. He knew exactly what they were doing—Orimus, ever the manipulator, was feeding lines to Tolian, using him as a blunt weapon.

It wasn't worth engaging.

Yet.

Tolian, emboldened by Jolthar's silence, pressed on. "I mean, does anyone even know who your father is, Jolthar? Even your mother might have no idea about it. I've heard stories about Lady Aelina."

He leaned closer, his voice dripping with malice. "Apparently, she slept around a lot. Maybe she didn't even know which man—"

The words barely left Tolian's mouth when Jolthar rose from his seat, the movement smooth and deliberate, his calm exterior cracking to reveal the simmering rage beneath.

The hall didn't fall silent, but several heads turned as they noticed the shift in atmosphere. A few young men nearby who had overheard Tolian's cruel remark exchanged glances and a few of them, turned towards Jolthar.

Other than a handful of clan members, Jolthar's existence was unknown to outsiders and the clan wasn't really interested in introducing him too. For years, the clan deliberately concealed his presence from outsiders, shrouding him in silence. But now, deemed useful for their purposes, they finally allowed him to step into the world beyond the estate's walls.

The murmurs in the hall grew louder, spreading like wildfire.

"Did you hear what Tolian said?"

"Lady Aelina… could it be true?"