The Sinful Young Master

The road to the city of Avyaburgh stretched before them, a winding path bordered by dense woods and open fields. The Kaezhlar knights rode in formation, their armour gleaming under the late afternoon sun. They kept a steady pace, eyes fixed ahead.

The carriage's interior was a stark contrast to the rugged terrain outside.

Every element spoke of wealth and power, from the plush velvet seats embroidered with golden thread to the small crystal chandelier that hung securely from the ceiling.

The air inside was scented faintly with lavender, a subtle luxury provided by sachets tucked into the corners. Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting intricate patterns of blue and amber onto the finely woven carpet beneath their feet.

Lorryll sat on one side, his posture tense. One hand gripped the edge of the seat as if bracing himself against an invisible storm. Though his mind was far away, his dark eyes stared ahead, caught in a whirlwind of frustration and ambition. He was dressed in a dark green tunic with silver embroidery, the fabric straining slightly across his broad shoulders, a testament to his powerful frame. His boots, polished to a mirror shine, tapped rhythmically against the floor as he worked through his thoughts.

On the other side sat Liliana, her presence a stark contrast to his brooding intensity. She was a vision of poise and grace, her soft blue gown cascading around her like water. Her golden hair, arranged in an intricate braid, glimmered as the light touched it, framing her delicate features. Her eyes, a striking shade of green, studied her husband intently, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

Lorryll, his jaw clenched and his fists curled tightly in his lap.

The earlier confrontation with Jolthar replayed in his mind like an irritating echo. The audacity of that lowborn wretch standing against him, unflinching even in the face of his aura, gnawed at his pride. That stubborn mutt had dared to defy him, and worst of all, he'd succeeded in walking away unscathed—protected not by his strength but by Liliana's calculated interference.

"Unbelievable," Lorryll growled under his breath, his anger seeping into the air like a palpable force. He struck the side of the carriage with his fist, the impact rattling the frame and drawing a small, startled glance from Liliana.

She sat across from him, calm and collected, her head slightly tilted as she observed his outburst with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"Let it go, Lorryll," she said smoothly, her voice carrying a soothing yet firm undertone. She leaned forward, resting her chin delicately on her clasped hands. "You're letting him get under your skin, and he's not worth it."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Not worth it?" Lorryll's voice rose, his frustration bubbling over. "He stood against me, Liliana! That little shit dared to challenge my authority, and I couldn't even—" He cut himself off, gritting his teeth in frustration. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of the seat. "I should've killed him where he stood. The drake too."

Liliana let out a soft, almost condescending laugh, shaking her head. "And what would that have achieved? Do you think killing him would have solved anything? Jolthar is a nobody, just like you said."

Lorryll's glare remained, though her words gave him pause. He leaned back slightly, his posture still tense, and his eyes narrowed. "That 'fool' humiliated me in front of everyone. If word gets out that I let him walk away unpunished—"

"Then you'll make sure it doesn't," Liliana interjected; her tone sharpened just enough to cut through his tirade. She reached over, placing a hand gently on his knee. "You're too smart to let this derail your focus. You have bigger things to worry about—like establishing yourself in Avyaburgh. Forget Jolthar. He's irrelevant."

Lorryll looked at her hand on his knee, her touch soft but grounding, and exhaled heavily. "And the drake?" he asked bitterly. "He gets that too? That beast could've been mine."

Liliana smiled faintly, her emerald eyes glinting with a knowing light. "A drake? Please, Lorryll. You're Kaezhlar, and now you are the son-in-law of the Naemarys clan. When the time is right, you'll have your own dragon, not just some overgrown lizard. Let Jolthar have his moment. It doesn't diminish you in the slightest."

Her confidence and composed demeanour had a way of dulling his anger, though it didn't erase it.

Lorryll looked out the window, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the sprawling city of Avyaburgh awaited. "You're right," he muttered after a long pause, his tone begrudging. "I'll let him have his fun—for now. But if he ever crosses me again…"

Liliana squeezed his knee gently, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "He won't. I'll make sure of it. And so will you—because you're smarter than this, my love. You're destined for greatness, not petty rivalries."

Lorryll allowed himself a small smirk, though the fire of his earlier frustration still simmered beneath the surface.

As much as he hated to admit it, Liliana's words had a way of tempering his rage and reminding him of the bigger picture. Jolthar, the drake—those were small distractions compared to what he was going to do in Avyaburgh.

He leaned forward slightly, meeting her gaze. "You always know what to say, don't you?"

Liliana's smile widened, her voice taking on a playful lilt. "Of course. That's why you married me, isn't it?"

Her words carried an undercurrent of cunning, the kind that had always both intrigued and unsettled Lorryll.

She leaned closer, her fingers brushing over his hand, her touch firm but soothing. "Avyaburgh is the largest city in the region. Its trade routes connect to every major city, its population is unparalleled, and its influence stretches far beyond its walls. If we succeed there, we don't just gain a foothold; we establish a foundation for the Kaezhlar clan."

Lorryll's expression softened, though the shadow of doubt lingered in his eyes. "My father won't like that though."