Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 93
Chapter 93
Ian pushed aside Beric’s sword with the back of his hand, dumbfounded. The guy who put a hole in his gut fighting one knight in the desert, what confidence made him think he could take on three at once?
The knights also glared as if to say, ‘Are you insane?’, yet they seemed to be holding back for now since Ian was standing in the way.
“Knock off the bullsh*t and go bring Romandro instead.”
“Ah, so that’s what you meant? My bad.”
There was not a speck of apology in his words but it felt better to admonish him at least. Ian signaled the wife with his eyes.
“All of you out. Go help bring the advisor or take care of things that need doing. Don’t just stand around dazed. Shoo.”
“…..”
Perhaps determining it would get them nowhere staying put, the knights obediently left the room. Seeing the confused steward glancing left and right trapped between them, the wife took out a new cigarette and ordered.
“Steward, go make some tea at least. We have a guest and though the situation is chaotic, manners must be upheld.”
“Yes, my lady.”
One knight stood stubbornly with his arms crossed in the corridor. The way he held his chin high even as the door closed, as if to keep the lady detained by force, betrayed his intentions.
Creak
.
As the door shut completely, she breathed out smoke vacantly. Then looking at Ian, she murmured.
“I feel completely out of sorts.”
“Pull yourself together, even by force. We need to secure the estate’s rights before those knights do anything drastic.”
“I haven’t yet.”
“Then you should inform the Count’s brother quickly. Don’t those knights hold military command over Merellof?”
Unlike the Bratz estate, Merellof didn’t require a large force. The estate functioned stably with just the handful of guards that could be maintained from the estate and the three knights as the core of a private army system. There were no threatening enemies like the Cheonrye tribe.
“Probably? I suppose so?”
“From your reply, now I understand why they’re kicking up such a fuss. If you don’t hurry, my lady, you may meet the same fate as the Count.”
Ian tilted his chin toward the bedroom where the corpse lay.
Would now not be the perfect timing to completely wipe out Merellof’s line and write a new history?
“If the same happens to me, wouldn’t that trouble you too, Sir Ian?”
“It would trouble me, yes, but more of a nuisance than anything fatal like with you.”
How annoying indeed.
For the imperial palace to take interest in Merellof now because of this. But by then, Ian would be closer to the capital. And most of all, Ian truly had no involvement whatsoever in this incident.
‘She could threaten me if she wanted….’
For instance, if he didn’t help her now, she could make false confessions about their inappropriate relationship, dragging him into the mud with her.
“I see. Indeed.”
Firstly, the wife didn’t seem to hold any such intentions. Perhaps the previous night’s shock was too immense, or since her position left her simply desiring freedom, she had no wish to complicate matters.
‘Or perhaps she’s clever.’
She probably thought that provoking Ian now would leave her unable to recoup her losses. It would be different if she asked for his help. She nibbled numbly on her cigarette, completely deflated.
“My lady, have the steward bring you the seal from the office before Romandro arrives. Whoever holds that represents the estate.”
“Ah, that.”
“You can then just handle things systematically. If the knights betray you midway, we can provide military support from our side.”
With Beric present and warriors who had yet to return to Cheonrye tribe still remaining, they would probably subdue those three knights and soldiers easily.
“What is it that you want?”
The wife simply blinked and smiled. That there was no such thing as unconditional favor was something she seemed to have grasped early on. Ian merely shrugged his shoulders at her words.
“I can’t seem to think of anything in particular right now. How about tributary payments?”
“That should suffice. Though other than money, I’d prefer something more what the knights can offer.”
A connection through money could just as easily come loose. The wife wanted a contract only she could fulfill for him.
“There isn’t much I can offer right now since I came barehanded into the estate.”
The wife moved to stand before her vanity. At a light gesture, the drawer opened for her to take out the ring made by the mysterious alchemist. The very one like Ian’s necklace.
“You did say you were quite curious about it. Do you happen to know if this ring and your necklace were crafted at the same time?”
Considering both the timeline and distance between estates, if they came from the same upper-tier alchemist, the possibility was high. Stroking his chin, Ian replied.
“I’d happily accept the ring, but as for the item next to it….”
It was the new anesthetic secretly traded from the Hawan Kingdom. The round, black jar was tidily polished as before. The wife merely made a shrugging motion, as if to say do as you please.
“Refuse it if you don’t want it. I simply presented the most valuable item in my possession. The choice is yours, Sir Ian.”
Seeing Ian hesitate, Beric behind decided there was no need to ponder as he took both items himself.
“Why not take what she’s giving?”
“Beric. Haven’t you left yet?”
“Was just about to. Huh, why’s this not coming off?”
“Quite incredible indeed.”
He had absentmindedly put his finger into the ring and it seemed to be properly stuck. As Ian shot him an exasperated look, he fumbled awkwardly with an embarrassed grin.
“Can I just grease it off…?”
“It’d be faster to cut your finger off. My lady, may I borrow a knife?”
“…I shall bring Romandro immediately, my lord. Please wait.”
At Ian’s jest, Beric promptly made himself scarce. Even so, he didn’t forget to take the jar with him.
“You can replace the jar when it’s used up. Men wear cosmetics nowadays too but it’s still awkward for many.”
“Where exactly would I use it?”
“You’ll soon rise to the capital, no? While there are things that can be picked up anywhere, I imagine there would be ample use for it in a place like that?”
No idea where she got the notion but she was quite spot on. As the center of Bariel, it was glamorous and chaotic, with a tense undercurrent of cruelty. Staying up countless nights unable to sleep would surely be common among those at the hub of power struggles.
Whether due to work or fear of death.
“The lethal dose is over 2 grams a day, taken continuously for a month. Just follow that properly and there shouldn’t be issues.”
“So this would produce side effects years later, not months. Anyway, are you certain about this? No matter how I think about it, I can’t understand Beric collapsing just from a whiff.”
“How should I know? I had no problems myself. Something must be off with your subordinate’s constitution.”
The wife stated decisively she was sincere. Granted, Beric walking around perfectly fine with a hole in his gut was not exactly a normal physique. Ian turned his head to glance back. The doctor was packing up his medical kit.
“Truly, more so than these trivial things, the tribute is most important.”
“I could prepare it by selling gems if need be. Though I wonder if there are any gem buyers nearby who’d accept goods. I’d likely need to go as far as Sherion for cash trade.”
It seemed only the family head held financial authority in Merellof. At least in the Bratz, Lady Mary was in charge of household affairs yet an overbearing Count certainly wouldn’t share his power with his wife.
“Anyway my lady, make haste with things. It’s best to move before those knights take action.”
As Ian turned to leave the room, the wife grabbed and asked him. Though her expression remained composed and dull, her voice unexpectedly quivered unlike her demeanor. The more he looked at her the stranger she seemed.
“What will happen to Clark?”
“How can it be otherwise? It’s the death penalty, without exception.”
Except for legal executions by the imperial palace, like those by Dergha, the murder of nobles could only happen on the battlefield. Killing a noble was a serious crime, and if the perpetrator was a slave, there was no need for a trial.
“I was surprised to hear that Clark is still alive. The fact that the knights did not execute him on the spot suggests that there is a different intention at play.”
“…Is there really no exception?”
“A slave surviving after killing a noble? It’s possible, but I’ve never heard of it. Oh, I did hear about a former slave who became a king in another country…”
Ian paused for a moment, trying to align this information with the history he remembered, to see if it matched the current events. Thinking about the years, it seemed to roughly fit the timeline.
“I heard the first person he killed was his noble master. Maybe Clark could survive if he becomes a king too.”
The lady seemed to be pondering something, idly flicking the tips of her nails. It appeared she was keen on saving Clark’s life at least.
“Can’t you help us?”
“Lady, I’m sorry, but I need to go to the capital soon. I can’t afford to get involved in more trouble.”
“It seems like Sir Ian could do it.”
“By what means could I save a slave who killed a noble?”
“Haven’t you already done the same? You, a commoner who had crossed the border and survived to become lord.”
Ian frowned. The conversation seemed to be going off track. The lady murmured to herself, and Ian responded in his own way.
“My lady.”
“I will become the lord.”
“What?”
“Is that not possible?”
Ian hesitated at her assertive question.
“…There’s no law restricting lordship to men. But my lady, you are not of Merellof blood, no? It would be different if you had a legal heir, but with the Count dead, you are an outsider to the Merellof family.””
Was that all?
The only one holding the keys of support and opposition, the Count’s brother, certainly wouldn’t agree. Which meant, in order to become lord….
“The only way is to change the ruling family here.”
Like Bratz, erasing the name of Merellof. It was no different from what the knights were trying to do. The lady sat back down in her chair, seemingly lost in thought, staring out the window.
“If I become the lord, the head of this house, I cannot leave this place, can I?”
One might be able to leave their seat temporarily, but essentially, it meant being tied to one place. It was no improvement from the situation Lady Lien desperately wanted to escape.
‘No. With the Count gone she’s better off.’
Freedom and love.
Ian could guess the two tangled concerns in the lady’s mind. Frankly, it was more beneficial for Ian if the lady became the lord than the Count’s unfamiliar brother. They had some relationship, he knew her secrets, and she seemed uninterested in expanding her territory.
If the knights or the Count’s brother became the lord, who knew what they’d do while Ian was away in the capital?
‘But the presence of the Count’s brother makes it tricky to step forward hastily.’
It was a kind of a strategic standoff.
If Ian absorbed Merellof’s coutndom, it might give Gale an excuse to intervene again, citing excessive expansion of power on the border. But on the other hand, it could firmly impress his worth on Mariv.
‘First, it would be good to meet the Count’s brother.’
Ian straightened his coat and looked back at the lady. She still seemed lost in her own thoughts.
“I’ll inform the Count’s brother about the situation and return. He lives in a mansion on the outskirts of the village, what’s his name?”
“Dive Merellof.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Ian muttered, checking his pocket watch. If he hurried, he could return before Beric brought Romandro.