Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 101

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 101. The Living and the Dead
Black ribbons fluttered from various points along Merelrof Street, tied in mourning for the Count’s death. Though the whispers claimed he’d been killed by a slave, the atmosphere felt more unsettled than sorrowful.
“In all my years, I’ve never heard of a nobleman being stabbed to death by a slave. What on earth could have happened?”
“From what I hear, the Count tried to whip the Countess, and the slave intervened to stop him—that’s when things went wrong.”
“Wait, where do I even start? The Count whipping the Countess? Wasn’t he the one who cherished her so much he wouldn’t let her wear out? It seemed like he was completely under her thumb.”
“That’s why no one understands married couples.”
“But what about the slave? Is he dead?”
“Since there was no formal execution, he must have received summary judgment. Anyway, the madman. How could he kill his own master?”
“This is just a rumor going around, but apparently the Countess and that slave were… intimate.”
“Ahahaha! That’s funny. Haha!”
“I’m serious! A friend of someone who works at the manor told me. Otherwise, why would a slave protect the Countess like that?”
“That friend of yours—honestly. Why? The Emperor is also called a friend.”
Whenever people gathered in small groups, the conversation inevitably turned to the dead Count, his Countess, and the slave Clark. With no official statement from the manor, imagination filled the void.
* * *
Lady Lien lay motionless in her darkened bedroom, spending another day without moving a muscle. Helplessness and a sense of deprivation had rendered her unable to lift even a finger.
“My lady. Shall I bring your meal?”
“No. That’s enough.”
“You skipped dinner last night as well.”
“…Butler. Isn’t it strange?”
At the Countess’s question, Samon turned his head. She lay with her chin resting on her hand, staring into empty space. Strange, she said. Samon couldn’t bring himself to deny it. Wasn’t she the one now perfectly commanding Merelrof with the death of the Three Knights and Dive’s imprisonment?
But…
“Rather than strange, you don’t seem happy, my lady.”
At Samon’s words, the Countess smiled faintly.
Yes. That was precisely what was strange. Her husband, who beat her nearly every day, was dead, yet her heart felt unclean. It was the same feeling she’d had when she cut down her mother’s tree and fled.
“Has a merchant company been decided to send Dive to Toollun?”
“The Cheal Company is heading to Toollun this time, I hear. The timing is also most suitable. Jeonseogoo came saying they would depart immediately if you would only allow Dive to be sent.”
Lady Lien fumbled across the side table, searching for a cigarette. Since the day her husband died, she’d developed the habit of burning through at least ten a day.
“What’s the cost?”
“A deposit of one hundred gold coins. An advance of one hundred gold coins.”
“Better than I expected. I thought it would go into the thousands.”
The Countess nodded with satisfaction. Then, exhaling cigarette smoke, she murmured.
“Butler. Tell the Cheal Company I’m entrusting them with this task.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“But tell them two people will be going, not one.”
“Two people?”
From Lien’s silence, Samon understood the second person was Clark. She had chosen him as the overseer Ian had mentioned assigning. He wanted to believe it was the best choice.
‘If an investigation comes from the imperial palace anyway, it’s better this way. And once we reach Toollun, we can quietly dispose of Dive and return…’
Return, and live together?
The Countess felt as though she were walking a misty path. She could see one step ahead clearly, but the distant destination remained completely obscured.
“Dive’s servant stays at the manor, I hear?”
“Yes, Countess.”
Dealing with a mere servant left alone was child’s play. The Countess lay in bed, drawing long drags from her cigarette for quite some time.
“When does Count Ian depart for the capital?”
“Next week. And today, he will visit to finalize the contract.”
“Was that today? Time flies.”
“Perhaps you should have something to eat?”
Though she had lain in bed until the afternoon sun reached its peak, the Countess was nevertheless attending to the loose ends of her affairs—preparing the reward she had promised Ian, reducing the overall expenses of the territory, and so forth.
“Is Dive still praying in the annex?”
“Yes. Well, he seems to maintain quite a regular routine.”
Wake, eat, pray, eat again, pray.
He seemed to regard his very confinement in the annex, unable to return home, as a form of suffering. He wailed day and night to his god—whether of the underworld or the heavens—to save him.
“What nonsense.”
She threw on a robe and left the bedroom. The servants passing through the corridor gasped and quickly averted their eyes, pretending not to see. Cigarette between her lips, the Countess made her way to the underground dungeon.
Creak.
Clark bore clear marks of torture at the hands of the Knight. Yet his wounds had scabbed over, and his complexion did not appear poor. Clark, who had been sitting in a daze, recognized the Countess and rose to his feet. The two stood facing each other across the bars.
“In a few days.”
It was the Countess who broke the silence first.
“Go to the Hawan Kingdom with Dive. And then head to Torun with the Cheal Merchant Company.”
“Torun….”
“Do you know where Torun is?”
“Yes. I do.”
Which meant he also understood that it was an extraordinarily distant place. The Countess fell silent, gathering the countless words that rose to her throat.
“In preparation for an investigation that may come from the imperial palace in the future, I need testimony that Dive arrived there safely. So take him there without incident….”
Lady Lien placed her hand on the back of Clark’s hand gripping the bars. It was the first time the two had touched. The Countess swallowed a sigh and gave her command in a low voice.
“Come back.”
Clark answered only with a laugh. The Countess tells him to return, but Clark knows. If he returns, what burden it would place upon her. Clark lightly pressed his lips to the back of her hand, then stepped back.
It was their last moment together.
* * *
“Won’t the carriage wheels collapse?”
Berik muttered while looking at the neatly stacked boxes. They were filled with Luron fragments that I had smashed and refined to appropriate sizes several times over.
“There are only five boxes, but the weight seems heavier than any boulder.”
“I’m planning to have about ten carriages pull them, so we can divide them further. How is the mine cleanup progressing?”
I asked while putting on my coat. I had taken out my formal uniform, dressing more formally than usual. Today was the day I would go to Merelrof to finalize the contract and handle the aftermath of Dive’s situation.
“The Administrator is still overseeing it. He was asking what to do with the powder mixed with dirt.”
“Tell him to store it separately.”
The mana stones that had crumbled into powder had not lost their own power. If I gathered each piece, there would surely be a use for them later. I glanced at Berik and gave my instruction.
“Berik, don’t follow me today. Go to the forest instead.”
“The forest? Ah. Philia?”
It meant to meet Philia, my biological mother. Soon I would be leaving this place. I might return again, but the likelihood of not doing so was far greater, wasn’t it? For Philia, this could be the last time she sees her only child.
“Yes. Tell her I’m leaving, and if she wishes, come down with me.”
“Understood. But is Merelrof going alone?”
“Romandro and his subordinates will accompany him. The subordinates staying here will need to work frequently with Lady Lien, so I’d appreciate it if they could build rapport beforehand.”
The time to leave the territory was approaching, but I felt no sense of reality about it. It was impossible to either completely let go of this place or to ensure everything was properly handled.
“Sigh.”
I exhaled involuntarily while looking at the mountain of documents piled before me. For the territory to run smoothly even in my absence, I had to review and process all of it before leaving. Berik watched me while crunching on Gula seeds.
Knock, knock.
“Count Ian. The carriage is ready.”
“Where is Romandro?”
“He’s waiting downstairs.”
“I’ll head down shortly.”
At Hena’s call, I hurried out the door. Hena turned to leave as well, but her eyes met Berik’s directly.
“Berik? What’s wrong?”
“Are you going to Merelrof too?”
“Yes. I expect I’ll be back late tonight.”
Hena had been crossing over to Merelrof recently to receive various instruction from the butler. While basic studies could be done here, she needed someone to properly teach her etiquette and estate management techniques.
“Is something the matter?”
“No, nothing serious. Doesn’t Ian look tired to you?”
At the unexpected remark, Hena’s eyes widened. It was true—there had been a lot of work lately. I hadn’t seen him sleeping at night for several days straight.
“Now that you mention it, yes. He keeps leaving his meals unfinished too.”
Hena pondered this for a moment, then suddenly grabbed her own hair with a shocked expression. Despite Berik’s bewildered gaze, she only muttered to herself.
“Oh no! The butler’s fundamental duty and virtue is to attend to the master’s health and comfort. How could I have overlooked this?”
“…Hena. Are you alright?”
“How could I possibly be busier than Count Ian?! Me?!”
“Hey, hey. Why are you like this? You’re scaring me.”
“Starting tonight, I need to prepare all sorts of good things for him. Berik, thank you! I’ll work hard until I become a perfect butler!”
Hena’s eyes blazed with determination as she raised her fist in a gesture of fighting spirit. Berik responded awkwardly, then watched her dash away before flopping back onto the bed.
‘When people are busy, they really do start losing their minds.’
Meanwhile, before heading downstairs to the main entrance, Hena rushed to the dining hall to find the chef.
“Mander! I’m heading to Merelrof, so starting tomorrow, please prepare only nutritious meals until Count Ian returns.”
“Hena? Suddenly? What’s wrong?”
“Count Ian seems to be losing his strength. He looks exhausted, and anyway—pork, duck, beef! You know what I mean? I’ll be back!”
Crash, bang, clatter!
The kitchen looked as though a typhoon had swept through it. A maid working in the back peeked her head out.
“What was Hena saying?”
“We need to get some meat from the village. It’s for Count Ian’s health.”
“What? Count Ian? Is he ill?”
“Count Ian is ill? Where?”
Rumors spread in an instant. What had been “Ian looks tired” had somehow transformed into “Ian is ill” or “Ian is wasting away.” A servant who left the estate sealed the matter when speaking to the butcher.
“Count Ian has been overworking himself lately, so…”
“What did you say?!”
Clatter-clatter-clatter!
At that very moment, inside the carriage heading toward Merelrof, my ears suddenly itched unbearably.
‘Is Berik cursing me?’
As I absently rubbed my ear and frowned, Romandro across from me asked with concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just a momentary discomfort.”
“Right. Now that I think about it, we’ve settled most matters through correspondence, but there’s been no answer regarding how to conduct the Count’s funeral.”
The overall schedule had been coordinated easily enough, but the Count’s funeral remained undecided. I gazed out the window and rested my chin on my hand. In the distance, Merelrof came into view. The sky hung heavy and gray, as though it might unleash snow at any moment.
“Without anyone knowing, I suspect that’s the intention.”
“Hmm? Without anyone knowing?”
“Just as the Countess held her wedding without anyone knowing. That’s why we waited for winter, isn’t it?”
For a funeral that no one would attend, that no one could attend.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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