Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 248

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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 248
Fire. Jin’s Request
Melania’s eyes narrowed slightly. What in the world was this contradiction? Referring to oneself as a third party like that.
But I paid no mind, continuing to examine the amber-colored gemstone. It bore a striking resemblance to the one Prince Marib had used during the rebellion, and the one that had been beneath the Silask flower pot.
‘On the surface, it appears to be Idgal. I should investigate this more carefully.’
Hadn’t Captain Akorella mentioned it? With artificial gemstones, if you split them in half, geometric patterns emerge. Those are the manufacturing traces of an alchemist, their unique signature.
If this was indeed created by the illegitimate Ian, it would display a completely different grain than ‘Idgal’.
“Ian.”
I turned my head at Melania’s call. Her eyes held considerable suspicion. Her gaze clung persistently, and the distance between us gradually narrowed. Melania asked carefully. Having composed her emotions, her tone became more formal.
“Count Ian, is it possible you have no memory of it at all?”
It was a question, but it was essentially a probe. This was an extremely important variable for Melania.
If I had lost my memory, a past information imbalance would occur. For Melania, who possessed the information, this would be an enormous opportunity.
“You laughed. You were so happy that the flush faded from your face. That’s why….”
Melania hesitated mid-sentence. If I didn’t remember, wouldn’t it be more advantageous to throw something abstract rather than a situational explanation that directly provided clues?
I detected her intention and responded with silence. There were too many dangers in claiming to remember, and admitting I didn’t was not a good move. Vaguely deflecting was, in a sense, an admission itself.
Regarding the past, I was at a disadvantage, but regarding the internal affairs of the imperial palace, Melania was the one at a loss. The longer I dragged out the silence, the sooner Melania would speak first.
Whoosh.
Without answering, I retrieved the pressed flower. The Silask, tinged red in the lamplight. Even in the central region, its traces were difficult to find, yet here it appeared again alongside the amber-colored gemstone. Just as it had in the desert.
I could certainly infer that the Rutherford Trading Company was connected to this flower, and that Melania’s claims held some credibility.
Idgal had been used by Prince Marib as well, but among all those I’d encountered, only I seemed to have a connection to this flower.
“Say something, anything. Please. If you continue like this, it’s as if….”
As if you were a different person, as if you were treating someone else’s affair rather than merely lacking memory, Melania barely swallowed the absurd words and continued.
“As if I were telling a lie. The evidence proving that day is so clear.”
“Hmm.”
Ting!
I flicked the amber-colored gemstone lightly in response. I had caught the timing perfectly.
Idgal had an effect comparable to a mana-sealing stone, making it extremely threatening to mages. Thus, tracking the Rutherford Trading Company to confiscate and eliminate it would likely be one of the long-term goals the Magic Ministry would pursue.
Yet the illegitimate Ian—and him at that, serving as the Magic Minister—had a connection to Idgal’s creation? Moreover, sworn to Rutherford?
“What about this note? You don’t recognize the note either?”
Rustle. Melania pressed me and unfolded an old note. The moment I was about to answer that I didn’t recognize the characters, I realized I had seen it somewhere before.
The unfamiliar script I had seen when I first opened my eyes at Count Bratz’s residence and entered the illegitimate’s room. Equally indecipherable.
‘A secret revealed to save House Haiman. It’s sufficiently threatening to me, so I judged it had appropriate value to exchange for salvation. Not knowing what it is makes me cautious, but—’
A Magic Minister creating Idgal was practically a contradiction. It had no effect on non-mages, and creating something that strangles their own lifeline was something they would do. There would be fierce resistance within the department.
‘In the current situation, it’s actually acceptable.’
If used well, it’s not bad.
The next heir, Jin, trusts me. From the imperial perspective, I would be judged as the right person to maintain the balance of power in the Magic Ministry, and this would give Jin a sense of stability.
Stability creates strong bonds. The Magic Ministry would become a foundation for greater trust within the empire. In short, there would be fluctuations, but it meant we could create a virtuous cycle.
“Melania. I have consistently said there is no connection between us. You call these evidence, but aren’t they all subjective claims? What were we to each other? For that, we’ve crossed blades with far too much sincerity toward one another.”
Had Arcen’s true identity not been a demon, Jin’s and my position would have been precarious, teetering on the brink of collapse.
And if this were truly a threat to me, she would have played this card long ago. Especially when the relationship between Prince Marib and Rutherford was brought up in the trial, there was certainly an opportunity to entangle me.
“Whatever our past relationship may have been, do not presume to call solitary memories nostalgia. I am confiscating these items. This matter is too grave to overlook, so await their disposition.”
Click. I closed the jewelry box after placing the items inside, securing the lock.
Melania stared at me intently, as if she had expected this. Her expression remained unchanged even after seeing the note—this confirmed she had truly lost her memories. Otherwise….
“Rutherford will arrive in Bariel before autumn. When you meet him, Ian. You cannot defy fate.”
As far as Melania knew, oaths were perpetual and immutable. They did not vanish simply because the subject no longer remembered them.
“Melania. For the dignity of Bariel, I wish to treat you with more humane methods.”
It was a warning not to provoke needlessly. I could torture her into confession, yet this remained a final courtesy toward the achievements House Haiman had established. It was true that thanks to them, Bariel’s currency circulation had remained smooth.
But Melania did not retreat.
“Cut my hands and feet as you wish. But my tongue—I shall sever myself.”
She was declaring she would never speak, no matter what was done to her. Melania changed her expression and drew closer to me, pleading pitifully.
“I will surrender the Haiman bank’s shares. And I will bear all taxes within manageable limits. I will humbly accept demotion of rank. I ask for nothing else. Only survival—that alone. Please, I beg you. If you do, I will awaken all the memories of that day which Count Ian cannot recall. The annihilation of House Haiman may hold meaning for the imperial family, but it brings Count Ian no benefit whatsoever.”
Ah. I gazed at her, then turned my eyes toward the window. Outside, tree branches swayed gently in the breeze.
Arcen had spoken similarly before his death. Meaningless words forcing a choice between Bariel and myself. Then as now, my answer had always been predetermined, without hesitation.
“Melania. What holds meaning for Bariel holds meaning for me. Wait quietly. Otherwise, you and your family’s paths will diverge.”
“Count Ian!”
If you wish to see your family, remain silent. I left those words behind and departed the reception room.
The servants waiting outside glanced at the jewelry box in my hand. I retrieved an amber gemstone from within and gave them instructions.
“…Send this to Captain Akorella and have her verify whether it is the same as Idgal.”
“Yes. Understood.”
“And—”
I fell silent for a moment, tapping the window frame. The sudden barrage of information left my thoughts overflowing with matters requiring organization.
First, I needed to discover what oath Melania spoke of—the one binding the bastard Ian’s body.
‘It is impossible to overlook those who commit treason without punishment. If precedent is set, it will surely prove detrimental to future generations. There is no need to look far—the imperial palace’s discipline itself would become lax.’
“Watch Melania especially carefully. In the evening, have my mother and Nersaren brought to see me.”
“Yes. Understood. Shall we bring them to the Magic Division?”
“Where is Jhin? Is he at the Magic Division?”
“No. He is at Deilaina’s quarters.”
As I stepped outside, I checked my pocket watch. Considerable time had passed since we parted. He likely went to see my mother immediately, yet he remains there still. Since Xiaoxi has sent no particular message, there should be no problem, though it is curious.
“Let us go there. I will escort Jhin back to the Magic Division.”
Whoosh.
At my command, the servants parted to either side and hurried ahead busily. They were preparing the carriage.
I glanced back once at Melania’s firmly closed reception room, then turned away without hesitation. Even Gail’s death, erased from history, is known to the Divine and to myself.
Yet surely Melania is not the only one in this world who knows of the bastard’s oath?
‘I hope it proves to be nothing troublesome.’
I unfolded the note with that thought, then carefully refolded it.
The bastard Ian. What exactly is his true identity? He bears traces of magical power, and possessed talent in alchemy besides. Before eating in the backyard of Count Bratz’s estate, what manner of life did he truly live? It is perplexing.
‘Yet one thing is clear.’
That Emperor Ian opened his eyes as the bastard Ian. This entanglement contained far more causality than I had imagined.
I boarded the carriage, cradling the jewelry box carefully.
* * *
A dimly lit bedroom.
Faint light seeped through the heavy curtains, though even that would soon fade with the approaching dusk.
I stepped into the small antechamber connecting to Deilaina’s bedroom. Xiaoxi, who had been sitting in a chair, rose to greet me.
“How is she?”
“She is resting inside.”
“Still?”
“Yes.”
The door creaked open.
Remarkably, the scent of approaching death hung in the air—different from when Berik had been brought in broken and battered.
The metallic smell of blood awakens one to life, but this faint medicinal odor lingering in the air carried the sensation of merely prolonging existence by the thinnest thread.
“…is she?”
In the brief space between Xiaoxi’s room and the bedroom, I paused upon hearing Jin’s murmured words drifting through.
The boy was bent over beside Deilaina’s bed, speaking to her with tenderness.
“When I first had a tutor, you see. Actually, back then it was I who received praise in literature. I was too foolish to say anything.”
“…”
“What if I had caught those moments when things began to diverge? Mother. Surely you would not be lying here like this, would you?”
“…”
My mother gave no answer, yet the boy did not stop. He sniffled and gently stroked her withered hand, imagining her response in his mind. Then he buried his forehead against her shoulder once more.
Jin wept, yet whenever something else came to mind, he spoke it tenderly.
“Whenever I see yellow flowers, I think of you, Mother. Do you know? Yellow suits you so very well.”
“…”
In this manner, repeating and repeating, was he not having the conversations they had not shared over the past ten years?
I leaned against the wall and waited quietly. As his sobs grew more violent, I found myself remembering my own mother. When she passed, did I weep like that? I could not recall.
“…ah.”
“Mother.”
Jin recognized the faint moan that was his mother’s call and listened intently. I could not hear it. Tears streamed from the boy’s blue eyes, and soon, his expression twisted with sorrow as he pressed his lips against his mother’s forehead.
“No. No. There is no need for that. I will live long. So long that ten years of memories will not even cross my mind. So please, do not do this.”
Deilaina weakly raised her hand, bringing her fingers to the wounds on her son’s body. Then, slowly, she traced them—as if measuring the scars that Prince Marib and I had inflicted.
A soft thud.
And in an instant, her strength failed and her hand fell. Though Jin quickly grasped her wrist, he felt it unmistakably.
“Mother?”
Deilaina’s breath had ceased. Jin trembled violently, his cries choking and broken. The sound was so anguished it seemed impossible it came from a child. And truly, Jin was now utterly alone. His father had always been distant, and he had lived here with only his mother and brother to depend upon…
“No, no, this cannot be! Mother, wait!”
“Your Highness.”
“Count Ian! Count Ian!”
Just as Jin was about to cry out for help, he drew a sharp breath. Yet despite his breath catching, tears flowed endlessly down his face.
“Your Highness. I will call for people.”
“Hnngh…”
I will call for people. At my words, the boy wiped his tears with his sleeve. He curled his body inward, trying to sever the unending sorrow. For the nobility must not show their tears—this was what I had taught him.
“Your Highness.”
As Ian reached out his hand, Jin buried himself in his outer robe and covered his face. Xiaoxi heard the commotion and briefly checked inside. At his final call, the outside grew restless.
“Please fetch a doctor. A death certificate is needed.”
“Oh my! Wait, just a moment!”
“Wait. Outside! Is anyone out there?”
Tap, tap, tap!
“…Please cover it, Count Ian.”
“Yes, Your Highness. I will keep it covered.”
“And stay here.”
“Yes. I will remain like this.”
“Here, continue….”
….
The servants and doctor rushed in urgently, but Ian silently pressed a finger to his lips, signaling them to handle it quietly. They passed by without noticing Jin and proceeded to examine Deilaina’s condition.
“…We will need to prepare black cloth.”
Jin’s Mother departed with those words.

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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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