Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 13

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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 13. The Potted Flower
“Are we nearly there?”
Chel wiped the sweat from his brow as he asked. Despite the mild weather and the relatively short distance traveled, the boy seemed to be struggling, constantly falling behind.
Ian, by contrast, felt his heart grow lighter in the fresh air—something he hadn’t experienced in far too long. The unfamiliar streets and their sights were quite pleasant to behold.
“We’re almost there.”
“If it’s too taxing, perhaps you should return, young master Chel?”
At Mac’s kind suggestion, Chel shook his head firmly.
It would be different if Deo were here. If he returned alone now, he would fail to follow his father’s instructions. He needed to remember everything these men discussed with Ian and carry it back.
“Ah. Here it is.”
“The landscaping is truly beautiful, befitting Portro’s standards. The lake is remarkably clear as well. On fine days, that mountain reflects perfectly upon the water’s surface.”
Mollin’s praise was no mere flattery. Even for Ian, who had witnessed the Imperial Palace’s magnificent gardens, this was genuinely impressive.
But the moment was fleeting. Ian concealed his unease and surveyed the surroundings carefully.
“How expansive is this place?”
“I’m not entirely certain. I haven’t explored every corner myself.”
“Walking leisurely, it would take approximately thirty minutes to traverse.”
The park was larger than expected.
Since no specific location had been designated, finding the boy’s mother was uncertain. Even as Ian conversed with Mollin, his senses remained heightened, alert to every passerby.
‘There.’
Then, in the distance, a vagrant draped in cloth had set up a makeshift stall. Not a single strand of hair was visible, making it impossible to discern whether the figure was male or female. Yet among the scattered items on the ground lay something familiar.
‘It’s the same.’
A potted flower of the same variety as the dried flowers his mother had given him sat displayed there. Ian stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Chel. Fortunately, the boy was perspiring so heavily that his hair hung disheveled.
“Since young master Chel seems quite exhausted, I think it would be good to rest here for a moment.”
“Do you think so?”
“If you don’t mind, could I trouble you for something to drink?”
“Just a moment. Ri!”
Mac called to the servant walking behind them, instructing him to fetch refreshments, and the group settled at a nearby bench to catch their breath. Ian kept glancing toward the stall, watching for an opportunity.
“While the servant fetches the drinks, I’d like to look around over there for a moment. Would you come with me, sir?”
“…No. I’m fine.”
Chel waved his hand dismissively, breathing heavily. Ian looked directly at the three men in silent request for permission. Since the stall wasn’t far from where they sat, Mac gave a light nod of approval.
“Go ahead. There might be something worth seeing.”
“Thank you.”
Ian approached the stall and crouched down to examine the goods. The vagrant, lying nearly prostrate, showed no reaction. Could she have collapsed? Ian tilted his head to the side and drew upon his power. His absinthe-colored eyes shifted to gold, and the brooch emitted a crimson light before ceasing its operation.
“Mother.”
At his voice, she flinched. The vagrant lifted her head. Beneath the black cloth, hair the color of desert sand rippled in the breeze. Green eyes like the boy’s. His mother.
“…Ian.”
“Please don’t react strongly. Just listen to what I have to say.”
Ian’s mother, Philia, was remarkably beautiful—beautiful enough to understand how she had caught Count Derga’s eye.
Philia started to lift her head but hesitated at Ian’s words. The cloth obscuring her vision allowed her to see only up to the boy’s chest.
“Ian. Ian….”
“Mother. I’m doing well. I received your letters. Please don’t worry about me.”
Pitter-patter. I watched silently as my mother’s tears fell one by one. I was sorry, but there was no time. The men behind me would not take their eyes off me.
“Please understand that I cannot inquire after you through Hena as I did before. And there is something I must ask of you.”
I withdrew a gold coin from my pocket.
“Did Mother give this to you?”
“What? A gold coin?”
Philia’s expression showed she had no idea. I had expected as much, but it was still as anticipated. A subtle device to emphasize that the Count was providing for my mother materially.
I smiled gently and pressed the gold coin into the woman’s hand.
“Prepare yourself thoroughly to hide with money. I will let you know the timing through Hena.”
Whether she wished it or not, Philia was currently my obstacle. To dispose of Derga, it was best to eliminate all foreseeable variables.
The woman held the coin quietly and lifted her head. Her expression suggested she had no idea what I was saying.
“Ian. Your eyes….”
“Swear to me. That you will do this for me.”
Golden eyes gleaming like a lion’s. As Philia blinked in shock, tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Ian. If you wish to escape, you may do so.”
“Mother. I apologize, but….”
“Young Master Ian!”
The servant placed drinks and refreshments on the table. Mac called out to me, but I could not turn my head. I could not show my golden eyes to those men.
“I am already so sorry for letting you go. So if you wish it, do not hesitate to flee.”
Mac approached slowly. The closer he came, the more puzzlement deepened on his face. The woman seemed to have come to meet me to convey her resolve. Unable to take my hand, she grasped my sleeve tightly.
“I will not flee.”
I added with quiet determination.
“Gather Gula seeds whenever you have the chance. They will surely prove invaluable later. And forget the song you sang for me—the lyrics I send in letters will henceforth be our cipher.”
Mac stood directly behind me. I released my power and smiled brightly. Both the golden eyes and the red brooch lost their light in an instant.
“I’ll take the flowerpot. This should be sufficient payment.”
“Young Master Ian? Is something the matter?”
“My apologies, Mac. I was deliberating whether to buy it, which took longer than expected.”
I picked up the flowerpot and laughed. Mac examined my expression carefully, but could sense nothing beyond composure. He glanced at the vagrant and guided me away.
“Young Master Chel seems to have far less stamina than expected.”
Then, in hushed tones, he chuckled while mocking Chel. I too laughed and glanced back slightly. Philia lay prostrate, a cloth draped over her. She was a woman who knew how to weep in silence.
“You purchased a flowerpot, Young Master Ian.”
“What sort of plant is it?”
At Dgor’s question, I merely laughed. What did it matter? I had no particular knowledge of plants, but from the letter’s contents, it was certain this was the flowerpot I had once tended.
“I’m not sure. The flowers were so beautiful that I bought it.”
“I’ve never seen one like it before…. Mac! You would know, wouldn’t you?”
“How would I?”
“Isn’t presenting bouquets your specialty?”
“Dgor! Really!”
Yet surprisingly, none of those gathered seemed to know what the flowerpot was. The crimson petals, as if infused with watercolor, were so vivid that one could not forget them once seen.
I carefully cradled the flowerpot and turned back. The woman had already vanished.
* * *
Click.
“We’ve arrived.”
As the coachman opened the door, Deo stumbled out unsteadily. It was clear the alcohol hadn’t fully worn off yet. At the front gate, servants stood waiting with lanterns in hand.
“Young master, you’ve returned?”
“You must be tired. Please, come inside.”
“Young master Ian, the Count requests that you come to the office first.”
The servants efficiently took his coat and prepared a damp cloth. After entrusting the potted plant to one of them, I headed straight upstairs.
Knock, knock.
“Come in.”
Permission came almost simultaneously with the knock. He must have been waiting quite some time. As I entered, Count Derga stopped moving his quill pen.
“The brooch.”
Checking the brooch took priority over greetings. I approached the desk and placed the brooch from my chest on it.
“What did you discuss?”
“Nothing particularly noteworthy. The lunch took place in the drawing room of the residence, and we mainly discussed the capital. After the meal, we went to a nearby park and continued our scholarly debate.”
“Is that so? Nothing more?”
Count Derga stroked his mustache and picked up the brooch. Beside it sat a glass vial filled with transparent liquid—a potion to activate mana stones.
Splash.
The mana stone submerged in the liquid began to glow. The same reaction as when I had infused it with mana. Shortly after, a voice resonated like waves spreading from a pulse.
[…Is this a residence?]
[Civil servants from the capital are… dispatched… …it’s a place they use. It’s neat and… feels like… home.]
“What did she mean by ‘feels like home’?”
“It seems she meant she’s making herself at home there.”
The voice was unclear, likely due to the low-grade mana stone. I had to suppress a sigh internally.
‘So this is how he meticulously scrutinizes imprecise details.’
I was exhausted, and seriously considered just pouring mana into the thing and destroying it. Just then, I heard movement from outside. It was the Countess, Mrs. Mary.
“Look at this for a moment, would you?”
“What is the matter?”
Her rigid lips held barely contained anger. The Count grimaced as he fished out the brooch, while the Countess strode forward and glared at me. She clearly despised this entire situation.
“Every time that lowborn creature goes out, you plan to attach Chel to her? And you’re taking him out of his lessons for this? So he can do nothing but follow her around and keep watch!”
“Where do you get off speaking like that!”
“Don’t I look it?”
Chel’s condition upon arriving at the manor was indeed pitiful. Drenched in sweat like a drowned pig, he could barely walk straight.
Mary declared she would never send the boy on surveillance duty again, and Count Derga raised his voice. There was already tension between them, and now the spark was catching flame.
“Well.”
I observed the two of them quietly before interjecting. There was no reason to listen to more of this grating marital quarrel.
“I’ll withdraw for now. Father, I’ll see you again tomorrow.”
And I slipped smoothly out of the office. As if this happened often, the servants hunched their shoulders and hurried down the corridor. After descending downstairs, I encountered Hena.
“Hena.”
“Ian, I’ve brought the potted plant to your room.”
“Thank you. Thanks to you, I was able to finish things well.”
It meant I had met Mother well. Hena chattered away as she followed behind me.
“Once I actually guided the guests, I realized how vast the park truly is. So I directed them to the entrance closest to Portloga, the guest residence in the third district.”
I opened the door and turned to look at the boy. Somehow, I had thought it would be easy to meet her, but Hena had handled the task splendidly. Such a clever and genuinely helpful girl.
“Good. Thank you. If there’s anything you’d like to eat, just say so.”
“Yes, young master. Thank you so much!”
After tidying up the lantern’s flame, Hena bowed respectfully and left.
Though not as exhausted as Chel, my own legs were numb and weary. I collapsed onto the bed and murmured to myself.
“This won’t do… Should I head to the Training Ground with Chel leading the way?”
It was time to build my stamina and begin moving about. Turbulent times were surely coming.
For the first time in my life, I fell asleep face-down on the bed.

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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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