Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 164

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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 164. The Signal Flare
Creak.
Ian’s expression as he emerged from the drawing room was peculiar. The Chamberlain guided him while casting glances at the firmly shut door. Before Ian’s arrival, Prince Marib’s anguished cries had continued to burst forth in a frenzy.
Yet now, why had it become so quiet?
This silence was unsettling in its own way.
“Count Ian, are you unharmed?”
“Unharmed from what?”
“…Never mind.”
The Chamberlain examined Ian’s cheeks, hair, and clothing in detail. Everything remained perfectly composed, exactly as it had been before. Considering the servants might have been carried out like corpses, this was truly fortunate. Still, as the Minister of Magic, His Highness had demonstrated proper judgment.
“Forgive my impertinence, Count Ian, but might I ask you something?”
“You have my permission.”
As the Chamberlain opened the carriage door and posed his question, Ian nodded lightly. His calm tone was striking—as if Prince Marib’s frenzy occurring within these palace walls had nothing whatsoever to do with him.
The Chamberlain quickly collected himself and bowed.
“It is merely this: I wondered about the condition of the servants inside. A doctor stands ready, but cannot examine them while His Highness remains present. Did His Highness appear fatigued or drowsy at all?”
Ian studied the Chamberlain intently. He called it an impertinent question, yet it was hardly impertinent at all. Resolving matters between a lord and his servants was precisely the Chamberlain’s role. Still, recalling the people who had been trembling prostrate, Ian offered a subtle response.
“They didn’t appear to be seriously injured. And isn’t dusk approaching now? Given that he conducts business late into the evening, it’s not yet time for him to retire to his chambers.”
“His Highness’s sleep schedule is quite irregular, so he takes rest whenever opportunity permits. Thank you for your words.”
Despite the courteous farewell, the Chamberlain’s hand closing the carriage door was hurried—as if urging Ian to depart this place quickly. Ian watched her return to the palace, his brow furrowing.
‘Irregular sleep schedule. Yes, I’ve heard rumors that Prince Marib handles so much work that the lights in his office never extinguish.’
Could exposure to sleep-inducing hallucinogens have begun this way? With sleep troubles, he might have investigated solutions and become entangled with certain merchant guilds. Or perhaps he already had connections there and obtained it through those channels.
“Where shall I take you, Minister?”
“The Ministry of Magic.”
“Yes, understood.”
Ian gazed at the darkening world outside and chuckled softly. The arrogant Prince Marib, his pride now cracked, had made a truly amusing move. In truth, the attempt on Prince Gail’s life was unremarkable, but the fact that he’d been framed as the instigator made the situation delightfully entertaining.
‘How fortunate for me.’
Now Prince Marib and Prince Gail were sharpening their blades, each eyeing the other’s throat. Yet because a single strike could cost them everything, they merely watched for openings, waiting for their moment.
Watching for openings—in other words, a lack of justification. Or put another way, the absence of a signal flare. If only they could find a reason to strike at one another….
‘One of them dies. The other falls with a mortal wound. Once I observe their struggle and sever the survivor’s breath at the opportune moment, matters become simple.’
Prince Gail bears the curse’s truth and suspicion of treason. Prince Marib bears the charge of attempted regicide. Ian tapped his knee in rhythm with the rattling carriage wheels.
“Change our destination.”
“Pardon? Where should we go?”
“To Prince Gail’s palace.”
Ian ordered the Coachman to turn the horses. The plan that had occurred to him was satisfying—it would be wise to inform Prince Gail of Prince Marib’s regicide charge before he revealed it himself. Fortunately, the carriage didn’t need to travel far.
Neigh!
‘The Haiman House carriage.’
It seemed Princess Melania was with Prince Gail. As Ian descended from the carriage, the Guard saluted with proper decorum.
“Aren’t you Minister Ian Hielo?”
“Indeed. Good to see you. We’ve met before.”
“I shall inform His Highness of your arrival.”
Previously, he’d added some comment about Ian being a mere baron, but now he asked nothing further. He simply announced the arrival and ushered him inside.
Knock, knock.
“Prince Gail, Count Ian has arrived.”
“Oh, good. Let him in!”
The moment the door opened, the reek of alcohol wafted out—he must have been raising a toast. Princess Melania sat with her eyes half-closed, smoking the cigarettes Prince Gail kept handing her. This was getting out of hand. The older brother smashed furniture like a madman, and the younger sister indulged in debauchery like one.
“Count Ian Hielo! What brings you here?”
“I have something urgent to discuss. If the timing is inappropriate, I can return later.”
“No, no. It’s fine. Come here.”
His hand patting the sofa radiated cheerfulness. Instead of sitting, Ian glanced at Princess Melania and bowed lightly.
“Princess Melania, you appear to have a fever.”
Get some fresh air—in other words, leave us alone. She smiled softly, her eyebrows arching gracefully. Though they called her a bastard of lowborn origin, her manner of speech was indistinguishable from any noblewoman of standing.
“Oh my, some fresh air does sound lovely. Pardon me for a moment.”
Princess Melania readily excused herself, and I sat across from Prince Gail. His hand tapping ash from the cigarette was somewhat rough. I noticed his eyes had changed the moment she left.
“What is it?”
The voice I’d thought drunk moments ago was suddenly clear—quite the accomplished performance. Maintaining the act for Princess Melania’s sake seemed to weigh on him considerably.
“I’ve just come from visiting Prince Marib.”
“You’re always running between my brother and me.”
“I’d prefer not to, but you keep summoning me.”
My glib response drew a low laugh from Prince Gail. He stubbed out his cigarette and asked.
“That’s your purpose for existing, then. So, what did he say? My brother Marib? No matter how he pretends to be noble and elegant, maintaining the dignity of a prince, he can’t hide his temperament. He’s turned the palace upside down, hasn’t he?”
Having watched each other closely their entire lives, they seemed to understand each other’s nature to some degree. I answered with silence and moved to the main point.
“…He ordered me to kill you, Prince Gail.”
“Ha ha. How delightful to hear.”
“Is that so?”
“Publicly, I’m burdened by a curse tied to Bariel’s existence or destruction. Privately, I’m the Emperor’s favored son. That he seeks to kill me proves Prince Marib is in quite dire straits, doesn’t it?”
The decisive moment likely came when Marib’s faction revealed their disunity before Prince Gail at the assembly. Showing such fractured cohesion in front of him must have been both a shock and a crisis for Marib.
“Indeed. It is proof. And for you, Prince Gail, it is an opportunity that has fallen into your lap.”
Prince Gail seemed to grasp what I was driving at. He smiled faintly and opened a drawer, producing a thick bundle of documents. The materials related to Prince Marib’s suspected plot to assassinate the Emperor that he’d promised to hand over to me.
“Opportunity. I do love that word. In the palace, it holds more power than law itself. Even the Emperor’s commands lose their force without it.”
I accepted the documents with a respectful hand. Unexpectedly heavy. I’d thought they’d only contain information about the drug’s source, suppliers, or related parties.
“Are you satisfied?”
“It only shows how deep the Emperor’s shadow falls. It is lamentable.”
“Ha ha ha! You really should have been born in the palace, my friend.”
I set the documents carefully beside the sofa, then faced Prince Gail directly. He was grinning. His eyes held the look of someone who knew exactly what was going on in my head.
“Since Prince Marib has asked me to prove the truth, I shall do so shortly.”
“It would be an honor if you did it yourself.”
“You seemed to desire the side effects of magic, but that burden falls on me as well. Fortunately, I have several slaves at my disposal.”
I would have the slaves attempt assassination. And he would treat that attempt as a signal for open war. Blades aimed only at the nape of the neck would soon fly at each other.
‘If I intervene directly with magic, it leaves me vulnerable to blackmail later, regardless of the outcome.’
To Prince Marib, the assassination attempt itself proves my sincerity. To Prince Gail, by informing him, I hand him the opportunity. I don’t know who will emerge victorious, but regardless of the result, I’ve created an escape route for myself.
“If I fall, Marib gains trust from the assassination attempt itself. If Marib falls, having passed him this information proves I won’t be bound to his faction.”
“Will is a matter of interpretation.”
“Fine. I have no reason to refuse. Besides, since you hold the reins of the curse, I have little choice in the matter.”
A single word from Ian could shatter one of his protective barriers. In a situation where lethal attacks were exchanged, a barrier’s worth was equivalent to one’s life.
“I will align the announcement of breaking the curse with Prince Gail’s wishes. In return, please use this information as a last resort. I went to great effort to obtain it, and it would be truly troublesome if it became useless.”
He had helped with the truth serum matter despite Marib’s suspicion, but if Marib exposed Ian’s involvement in the Emperor’s assassination attempt, Ian would gain nothing. What use was information everyone already knew?
“If you intended to use it as a signal flare, please don’t. Use me as your pretext instead. That will benefit us both.”
He could not refuse. To refuse this would mean making an enemy of Ian. Gail moistened his lips with the remaining wine and exposed his neck.
“Then I have one request.”
“Your command.”
“Make the assassination after the full moon rises.”
“May I ask the reason?”
“It’s Princess Melania’s birthday. There will be a dinner with the Haiman family that day.”
Though he spoke thus, Ian understood. The mana stone armor ordered from the Haiman family would be completed by that date. Ian nodded and rose from his seat.
“Then I have a request as well.”
“Speak.”
“Please return the slave I sent with all limbs intact.”
“Haha! The one who aimed for the Prince’s life?”
“Presumptuous as it may be, I dislike taking losses.”
He was saying that he would lose nothing from the conflict between these two men. Indeed, it mattered not to Ian who lived or died. So long as one of the twin princes succeeded to the next generation, as history dictated and nature intended, that would suffice. Though admittedly, that day was still distant.
“I also dislike taking losses.”
“If Your Highness has suffered a loss, that is a matter to take up with Prince Marib, not me. How is it that I need only wait for the full moon to rise?”
Otherwise, it is you who will be in trouble, Gail. In the past, he would have had his tongue torn out for such rudeness. Gail recognized his predicament once more and shrugged his shoulders.
“Very well. I’ll keep the door wide open and wait.”
“Then, I shall take my leave. Forgive my intrusion.”
“Count Ian.”
Gail called out to Ian as he was leaving. He poured wine to the brim and made his request.
“Go easy on me.”
“…Of course, I will only attempt as instructed.”
“No. You.”
A meaningful statement. Was he now asking for help? Ian bowed his head slightly and left the bedchamber. In that brief moment, the smell of alcohol seemed to have seeped into his clothes.
Whoosh.
‘Now I need to go back and select an appropriate slave.’
“Count Ian.”
“Princess Melania.”
“Are you finished speaking?”
“Yes. I hope you have a pleasant evening.”
Just as Ian was about to pass by her, Melania grabbed his arm with a rough grip. The strength emanating from her slender arm was brutally powerful, almost unbelievable. In the backlighting of the moonlight pouring down, her expression was not visible.
“Ian, I have something to tell you.”

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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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