Cassandra walked toward the gates of the mansion, her eyes narrowing at the commotion outside. Several guards surrounded a young man, their spears crossed in front of him, barring his entry. The man stood silently amidst their questioning, his expression calm and unbothered by their aggression.
From the way he carried himself, Cassandra knew instantly he wasn't some random commoner. His posture radiated confidence, his finely tailored clothes made from the highest quality linen shimmering faintly under the sunlight. His features—sharp and noble—left no doubt in her mind that this man was of high standing.
As she approached the gate, the guards immediately straightened and saluted her. Cassandra's presence commanded respect.
"What's going on here?" she asked, her voice firm but calm.
"My lady," one of the guards began, "this man is demanding entry but refuses to explain himself. He won't answer our questions."
Cassandra turned her gaze to the young man. He stood still, his hands resting casually at his sides, his calm demeanor unshaken by the guards' hostility. When their eyes met, he held her gaze without flinching, his deep crmison eyes piercing and unwavering.
"And you are, good sir?" Cassandra asked, tilting her head slightly.
The man's lips curled into a faint smile. "Jinnara O'Meega," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "I'm here to meet Count Percival. I have business to discuss regarding monster material gathering."
Cassandra studied him for a moment. Something about him felt… different. His presence was commanding, almost magnetic. The guards' protests reached her ears, but she barely registered them.
"Step aside," she ordered the guards.
"My lady, are you sure?" one of them asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"I said step aside," Cassandra repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Reluctantly, the guards lowered their weapons and moved aside. Jinnara inclined his head in a small, polite bow to Cassandra before stepping forward. "Thank you, Lady…?"
"Cassandra," she said curtly. "Follow me. I will lead you to the lobby to wait until my husband returns."
She led him through the grand doors of the mansion, her heels clicking against the polished marble floor. Once inside, she gestured toward the lobby. "Take a seat. I'll have some tea brought out."
Jinnara obeyed, lowering himself gracefully onto one of the plush chairs. Cassandra snapped her fingers, and a pair of maids hurried into the room. "Bring the black tea. The finest from my collection," she ordered.
The maids returned quickly, setting the tea and delicate porcelain cups on the low table before retreating to the edges of the room. Jinnara picked up his cup, taking a slow sip. Cassandra's eyes couldn't help but wander, studying the way he held the cup, the curve of his lips as he drank. She swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dry.
"This tea is… fine," Jinnara said, setting the cup back on its saucer, his tone deliberately nonchalant.
Cassandra's lips curved into a confident smile. "It's not just fine," she said, almost boastful. "It's pure black tea, harvested from the best plantations. Only the finest for my collection."
Jinnara chuckled softly, the sound low and pleasant, before leaning back in his chair. He lifted the teacup again, this time studying it with the gaze of a seasoned connoisseur. "Darjeeling, first flush," he began, his voice carrying the ease of someone completely in his element. "The leaves are delicate, almost silvery, with hints of green. You can tell from the subtle floral aroma, bright and slightly astringent. It's unmistakable—notes of muscatel and a faint grassy undertone, almost like a spring morning."
He took another sip, closing his eyes briefly. "Brewed just right, too. Around two minutes, I'd wager, to preserve its gentle briskness without veering into bitterness. I imagine this comes from a high-altitude estate. Makaibari? Or perhaps Castleton?"
Cassandra's smile froze for a fraction of a second, surprise flickering across her face. "You've... tried it before?" she asked, though her voice betrayed more curiosity than doubt.
Jinnara shook his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Not this particular tea, no. But I've spent some time in the foothills of the Himalayas. It's a region where every cup tells a story. And this," he lifted the cup slightly in a toast, "is quite the storyteller."
Cassandra's smile softened, impressed despite herself. "I didn't realize I was entertaining a tea scholar. I thought my knowledge was comprehensive, but you've left me feeling like a novice."
He set the cup down gently, meeting her gaze with an easy grin. "Lady Cassandra, tea is like art. The more you explore, the more you realize there's always more to learn."
For once, Cassandra had nothing boastful to say. Instead, she raised her own cup and sipped, her eyes never leaving his.
"But, I am impressed by your knowledge. It is truly grateful to meet a tea connoisseur,"
Her cheeks warmed slightly at the compliment, but she quickly composed herself. "You said you're here about monster materials? That's something you'll need to discuss with my husband."
Jinnara leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping around the room. "Humans have such fascinating tastes," he said, his tone almost wistful. "So much beauty and artistry… and yet, such fragility."
Cassandra frowned, his words catching her off guard. "Why do you speak as if you're not human?"
He smiled again, this time with a hint of mischief. "Oh, I assure you, Lady Cassandra, I am the most human of humans."
Her confusion deepened, but before she could press him further, Jinnara leaned forward, his gaze locking onto hers once more. "My family is very interested in purchasing the monsters your husband has captured. We're willing to pay handsomely for them."
"As I said, you'll need to wait for my husband—" Cassandra began, but her words faltered as Jinnara suddenly stood and moved closer to her. Before she realized what was happening, he was sitting beside her on the couch, his proximity making her heart race.
"Lady Cassandra," he said softly, his voice dropping to a whisper. His hand rested lightly on her thigh, and she froze, her breath catching in her throat. "I want to do business with you, not your husband. Aren't you the one that finance all these operations? Surely, I can discuss these things with you and not your husband."
Her mind raced, a whirlwind of confusion and… something else. There was an intensity in his gaze, a confidence in his touch, that made her feel both unnerved and captivated. She should push him away, call the guards, something. And yet, she didn't.
"Sir Jinnara…" she began, her voice barely a whisper. "This is highly inappropriate. Where did you even hear about me financing these operations? Sir Jinnara, who are you?"
He chuckled, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the fabric of her dress. "Is it? Or is it simply… unconventional?"
Cassandra swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. "You're bold, I'll give you that."
"Boldness is necessary to get what one desires," Jinnara said, his tone smooth and persuasive. "And I desire to work with you. Together, we could achieve great things. Your husband… he's a practical man, I'm sure. But you, Lady Cassandra… you have vision. I can see it in your eyes."
Her resolve wavered, his words both flattery and temptation. She felt an inexplicable pull toward him, an urge to see where this encounter would lead.
"Tell me," she said, her voice steadier now. "What exactly are you proposing?"
Jinnara's smile widened. "A partnership. Your husband may capture the monsters, but you… you can be the one to decide their fate. Imagine the wealth, the influence, that could come from such an arrangement."
Cassandra considered his words, her mind a whirlwind of possibilities. She knew she should be cautious, but there was something about Jinnara that made her want to take the risk.
"You're quite the salesman," she said finally, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
"I'm simply stating the truth," he replied, his hand still resting lightly on her thigh. "The choice is yours, Lady Cassandra. Shall we make history together?"
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension thick in the air. Cassandra's gaze met his, and she saw the fire of ambition burning in his eyes. Whatever this man was, whoever he truly was, he was no ordinary visitor. And for reasons she couldn't fully understand, she found herself intrigued, drawn into his orbit.
And what surprised her the most was his final statement, which sent shivers throughout her body. 'Lady, what is it you wish? I can see it—your desire. Tell me, what do you want?'