Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 4

It was an honor to meet you today, Master Ian.

A carriage waited by the main gate, which Sir Morlin had ridden in. As the old man doffed his hat in greeting, a servant brought him his cane. Ian, too, raised a hand to his chest in respect.

Despite the incident, you still honor us with such words. My father will be truly pleased.

Ians gesture was formal and graceful. As impeccable as a tutor responsible for royal etiquette. Morlin again glanced down at the boy with a smile. His deep green eyes were clear as glass beads.

Master Ian, you truly act in the best interests of the Count.

Was this sincerity? No.

It was a veiled question disguised as a compliment. It was unclear if it was a sneer or a jab a nebulous intention. Morlin seemed to expect an answer, but Ian had no intention of satisfying the old mans curiosity.

Please take care.

Ian maintained the bare minimum of courtesy with an ambiguous smile. As he could not grasp the intention behind the mans words, his response was necessarily vague.

Morlin seemed increasingly intrigued by Ians demeanor. Then, I shall see you next week.

The admission proceedings were not a one-day affair. Four times at one-week intervals about a month of this time with Morlin was required. Only then would a report go up to the capital, and over another fortnight, an official order would be issued.

One way or another, it meant he had at least a couple of months. Ian exhaled a sigh of relief upon realizing the time afforded to him. His agile handling of the situation was becoming second nature.

Well then. Farewell.

Creak.

The carriage driver opened the door for Morlin. Until the last moment, he held Ians gaze through a narrow window, then disappeared.

Only after the carriage was out of sight did Ian finally take in the full view of the Counts estate.

Its rather traditional for a Count.

Master Ian, shall I escort you to your room?

No, I believe we should return to the reception room.

When the servant standing behind him cautiously asked, Ian waved him off. He needed to check how well Chel had managed the aftermath.

At this point, when he didnt have a perfect grasp of the situation, he couldnt predict what his actions might bring about. So he had to see for himself. He needed to see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears.

You go ahead.

Yes. I understand. But, Master Ian!

At the servants call, he turned his head. That flustered face looked familiar. It was the boy who had handled Chels tantrum in the reception room. 

Is your hand okay?

The servant asked, bowing and later holding Ians slightly swollen hand. Although not treated properly, the swelling seemed to have subsided.

Thank you.

Its nothing.

What a big deal over a little kindness.

As soon as the servant turned the corner and disappeared, Ian looked at his own hand. There was something he needed to confirm.

I can feel the magic.

They say magic resonates with the soul, not the body. Although he was in an unfamiliar body, he could still summon his power. This was surprising, considering he had never experienced such a situation

Still, its a relief.

While it couldnt compare to his original body, if he trained, he could use magic far more easily. Even in the worst-case scenario, as long as he had magic, he could avoid certain things.

Knock, knock.

Ian, who had reached the reception room unnoticed, was about to enter when he knocked on the door.

Inside, he could hear unfamiliar servants chatting, most likely cleaning up the disarrayed room.

Ah, really. What in the world happened here?

Indeed, hes seventeen after all.

Shh. Be quiet. The lady of the house warned us not to mention it outside. Be careful, or else, youll get hit.

If Master Ian made a mistake, I would believe it. Remember last time? He fainted because his head was nearly torn off by the young count. I thought it was some kind of joke, and that he had peed again because of another near-death experience!

The servants burst into a clear, echoing laughter. Ian, peeking from behind the door, quietly listened to their mockery. They gloated over him like he was a captured mouse. Tsk tsk.

But it was surprising to see him in the garden today. His composure, he seemed more elegant than the Countess.

Its because hes being mindful since there are guests. Otherwise, do you think the Count would have let him be? Hes clearly of mixed blood, just like his mother. Looking at his mothers pale complexion, Im certain her prostitute blood has been mixed in. Yeah.

But his mother is not a prostitute, is it? Why do you say that shes one?

Youre right. If you think about it, its the Counts fault. Why would he meddle with a perfectly fine woman?

Living fine, you say? Is living by sucking your fingers called living well?

Ian decided it wasnt worth listening anymore and opened the door. The chattering servants all froze.

Um, there Master Ian?

Where did my parents and my brother go?

Should he make excuses, or not?

Although the servants respectfully addressed him, everyone knew that Ian was of low birth and that he would soon be sold to the Cheonrye Tribe.

Do I have to ask again?

Ah! I apologize! The madam and young master Chel have returned to their rooms, and the Count has gone to the front door with the butler.

If they went to the front door, they were probably going to bid a belated farewell to the guest. The whole situation felt off. It was unheard of to send only the disgraced son and Ian to see off a guest.

It was obvious that he was worried about what trap the snake-like old man might have set.

Theyve taken different paths.

As Ian calmly closed the door and left, the servants exhaled sighs of relief and scolded a woman among them.

Ah, really! Bella! Its your mouth thats the problem.

Sheesh. Whats the big deal? Hes a slave whos going to be sold in a few months.

Cant you keep your mouth shut? Do you want to get in trouble?

It was a matter of particular concern to the Count. Wasnt he in the midst of legitimizing Ians status for the sake of peace?

Even if the palace wouldnt say much as it was a national affair, it was uncertain what kind of trouble might arise if the Cheonrye Tribe found out. There was a reason why all the servants of the mansion treated Ian with such care.

Ah, father.

Ian spotted Count Dergha coming around the corner at the end of the hallway. He was frowning heavily as he approached Ian.

Has the honored guest left?

Yes. I watched the carriage that he arrived in depart.

What did you talk about on your way?

Nothing special. Just some idle chat. He did mention Chel-hyungnims mistake, but it seemed like a mere concern.

When Chels name came up, Derghas brow furrowed deeper as if he had suffered a defeat. Ian didnt miss a thing. From his reaction, it was clear that Chel had spilled the beans about his golden eyes.

Prepare the carriage.

Feeling the stress building up, the Count ordered his butler and put a pipe made of jade to his lips. Regardless of whether his child was present or not, he exhaled the harsh smoke of his tobacco.

Then all of a sudden.

How did you know about the scholar named Fuhlen?

It was a question that came to him as he was reviewing the banquet. After all, it was a mystery how a wretched bastard knew about a scholar from the monastery that even he didnt know. Ian gave a vague response without much thought.

I overheard someone in the house talking about him.

Whose words?

I dont really know their name.

Ian was a child who hadnt been here for long. He couldnt possibly know everyone in the mansion yet. This was a quick-witted response derived from that judgment. Whether it was convincing or not, Dergha filled in the blank with his own guess.

Was it Chels private tutor? Ive heard the mans a graduate of Bariel University.

Well, that part wasnt so important.

Dergha deliberately put on a stern voice.

Make sure there are no mistakes next week. If you spill finger bowl water again, Ill dunk your head into the mop bucket.

Perhaps it was a mistake the child made before Emperor Ian took possession of his body. Ian simply nodded without any further comment. Dergha took a drag of his cigarette and looked down at Ian with a nonchalant gaze.

Hmm.

The boys face is indeed attractive, strongly resembling his mothers. When he was first brought here, he was such a crybaby, constantly in tears, that there hasnt been an opportunity to really look at him. And theres no real desire to do so either.

Why are you behaving this way?

If his character matures well, hell certainly be considered attractive among the Cheonrye Tribe. And hes only sixteen now. There might be a chance to marry into the chiefs family. However, crossing the national border is a matter of life and death, uncertain at best.

Nevertheless, if things go well, it could be helpful for a formal alliance.

Forget about the mistake your brother made today.

Yes. I understand.

Its embarrassing even to the lower-ranked individuals in the mansion. What if the Cheonryeo tribe finds out? The dignity of the next Count would become laughable, Dergha thought.

Around the time Dergha almost finished his cigarette, the butler appeared with a coat.

Count-nim, everything is ready.

Lets go.

And with that, the Count turned away in a huff.

Ian confirmed through the window that the Counthad boarded his carriage. From the fact that the servants didnt even bother to see him off, it was clear this was a clandestine outing.

Tsk.

Such a boring man, Ian cleanly wiped all thoughts of him from his mind and turned around. It seemed best to form a mental map of the entire mansion. Or he could meet Chel and implement firm control.

As he wandered around the vast mansion, he eventually arrived at the central kitchen. The servants and the whole household gathered in small groups, clearing up the food left from the backyard feast.

Master Ian?

Whats the matter?

Nothing. I am just taking a walk.

How peculiar. Normally, he didnt even go outside even if a fire broke out.

 As the servants began to clean up the leftover food, Ian frowned slightly.

They arent livestock, why are they eating leftovers

Such a thing could never happen in Bariel where he came from. Unless it was the poorest slums, who would eat leftover food?

Regardless of the overall increase in living standards, after the outbreak of diseases spread by saliva, even in slums, it was a forbidden habit.

However, in Count Bratzs mansion, it seemed this scenario was a familiar thing, without an ounce of hesitations.

Are you hungry? Shall I serve you some?

Hey! How dare you speak so rudely to the young master!

Ah, Im sorry.

No. No, its okay.

The territory of the Cheonrye Tribe was right in the middle of the bustling desert.

Even the closest Bratz territory was influenced by it, so it could be said to be barren land compared to other places. There wasnt much fertile land.

And how many soldiers were there because its a borderland? The balance of supply and demand had been broken for a long time, so the servants were always hungry.

Then please, help yourself.

Yes. Please go ahead.

Ian moved aside so they could eat more comfortably. But the more he thought about it, the weirder it seemed. Was it a sense of disconnect? Of course, the time gap from Emperor Ians era was big, but even considering that, it felt like something was missing.

What is it? Whats lacking?

Ian-nim.

At that moment, someone called him from behind. It was a girl his age, her black hair braided. She was one of the girls eating earlier.

What is it?

Well, Im planning to go to the market in a bit.

Why is she telling him that? Underneath his gentle smile, Ian tried to figure it out. What could it be? Could it be that Ian also oversees the market? Replenishing the mansions food supplies is difficult even for adults.

If theres a message youd like me to relay to your mother

Oh.

When the girl started talking while fidgeting with her fingers, he understood her intention. Whenever she went out, she must have sent her regards to Ians biological mother. Since she couldnt read or write, she could only rely on word of mouth.

That means I cant leave the mansion.

He was a precious offering for the alliance. He probably wont be able to leave the Counts mansion on his own feet until the Cheonrye Tribe arrives. With a single sentence, the girl had made Ian realize the shackles on his feet.

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