Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 290

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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 290
Fire. The King’s Provocation
Jin clenched his molars without realizing it.
No matter how exquisite a portrait might be, it could never fully capture the presence of the living subject. Moreover, all I had ever seen of Romandro’s work was the portrait itself.
I had anticipated some difference, but the overwhelming aura the real person commanded was extraordinary. Perhaps the King of Eriponi’s towering height contributed significantly to this effect.
“Please, sit here.”
The King of Eriponi merely tilted her head and settled into the seat across from me. Her attendants moved with practiced efficiency, carefully arranging her long hair and the edges of her garments.
She gazed down at me with elegant composure, her chin held high. This angle came naturally from our physical difference. I reflexively became aware of how young I truly was.
“It is an honor to meet you, Prince 5. I am Eriponi Rasriel, the twelfth monarch of Ruswena. While it would be preferable to first pay respects to His Majesty the Emperor, circumstances have made that impossible, which I deeply regret.”
Her tri-colored eyes swept lightly from the crown of my head to my feet. The moment was so fleeting that anyone lacking keen perception would have mistaken it for merely lowering her gaze.
‘Prince 5,’ she said.
Behind me, Romandro swallowed a silent cough.
All the princes ranked above me were already dead, vanished in various inappropriate ways. Prince Gail in particular had even been stripped of his title.
Yet despite this, why did she deliberately refer to me as ‘Prince 5’? Was it only Romandro who found this strange? He shifted his gaze to the side and caught the eyes of several officials.
‘Deliberately?’
‘Indeed. Hmm.’
Whether fortunately or not, it seemed Romandro’s thoughts were not his alone. Everyone’s attention was fixed on the back of my head. What would the Prince say in response?
“His Majesty the Emperor will surely appreciate your sincere devotion deeply, so please do not worry yourself. You are aware, are you not, of the great expectations my father holds for Ruswena?”
No matter how much a kingdom might be called the heavens, the Emperor was the heaven above the heavens. I reminded the King of Eriponi of her position while making clear that I was the Emperor’s son.
The King of Eriponi slowly raised her eyebrows. As a dry smile began to form, she lifted her fan to conceal it.
‘How adorably sharp-tongued for a shadow prince.’
For a prince unknown to even exist in the palace, his manner of speech was quite convincing. The King of Eriponi composed her expression and continued.
“Your words bring me great comfort. To demonstrate Ruswena’s sincerity, I have prepared tribute gifts of considerable value…”
At the King of Eriponi’s glance, Eldetr nodded.
He placed an exquisite jeweled box upon the table. These were the first of the tribute gifts brought in dozens of carriages.
Inside the jeweled box lay carefully rolled parchment, black obsidian, and various spices.
“First, forty renowned horses bred in the plains of Ruswena. Among these, five are with foal, and their bloodline is recognized by the kingdom itself.”
“I have long heard of Ruswena’s famous horses.”
These were horses raised running across vast, fertile lands. I too was aware of their excellence.
The King of Eriponi twisted her lips slightly and fell silent for a moment. This felt less like tribute and more like giving gifts to a child. It was absurd, utterly absurd.
“Your Highness, are you familiar with black obsidian?”
“…I know of it. I saw what Ambassador Eldetr brought last time. It is said to be found only in Ruswena.”
“Yes. The black obsidian is of the finest quality—five boxes in total. Additionally, these beside it are newly cultivated spices from Ruswena. They require five seasons to harvest and are quite demanding to grow. They offer a spicy yet tangy flavor, making them exceptional. I have prepared twenty boxes of the finest grade as well.”
The King of Eriponi suggested I examine them more closely and casually pushed the boxes forward. With such a tremendous height difference and her rigid posture, it was impossible to tell who was actually presenting the tribute.
She tilted her head and asked.
“Do they please you?”
“…Of course. I can feel Ruswena’s sincerity well.”
“I am truly relieved. These are items worthy of satisfying His Majesty the Emperor, so I was concerned whether they would meet your expectations.”
The moment I closed the box lid myself, the King of Eriponi took a sip from her prepared teacup and murmured.
“Indeed, as the Emperor’s son, you possess his excellent discernment. I can well understand why His Majesty treasures you like a jewel and keeps you hidden.”
Romandro’s head lifted involuntarily, his gaze fixing upon Eriponi.
On the surface, her words were nothing but praise without a single negative remark, yet peel back that thin veneer and the meaning transformed entirely.
From the very opening—praising the Emperor’s discerning eye—to the remark about hiding him like a jewel, every word was a jab at Prince 5’s lack of presence. Thus, she continued, how could anyone know his preferences? Even if they wished to accommodate him, with nothing known about him, this was hardly their fault.
“Your Majesty, King of Ruswena.”
“Ah, I nearly forgot. As hunting is a passion of mine, I take considerable interest in bows and arrows as well. Thus, I brought something suitable as a gift for Your Highness, though….”
The Prime Minister attempted to interject as a mediator, but Eriponi silenced him with a piercing stare.
Her tri-colored eyes sharpened in an instant. A warning—that even within the imperial palace, she was a king of her own nation, and he dare not presume to interrupt their conversation.
“Eldetr.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
At her command, Eldetr brought forth a massive chest. In truth, she had been deliberating whether to present this officially to the Prince. But her king had ordered it brought, and now her true assessment of Jin was unmistakably clear.
Creeeeak.
“…What is this?”
“My joy, and the pride of Ruswena. I hope Your Highness finds it pleasing as well.”
Jin’s brow furrowed slightly.
A delicately carved bow of silver—nothing objectionable about the craftsmanship itself. Yet what caught the eye was the sheer size of it. Its length matched Jin’s own height.
Eriponi explained, her long fingers gently plucking the bowstring.
“Crafted over six months by the master artisans of Ruswena’s royal court. The body is wrought of silver, while the bowstring is twisted from garakpul, a grass found only in the southern forests. Each draw produces the sound of wind singing—a music finer than most instruments, which enhances the pleasure of the hunt.”
Whiiiing. Whoooosh.
True to her word, the bowstring’s sound was indeed peculiar and distinctive. She smiled knowingly and lowered the chest.
“I heard that Your Highness does not seem to enjoy hunting, so I refrained from presenting it as an official tribute. Yet seeing you in person, your bearing is so formidable that I deemed it a perfect match. I beg you, do not be startled, and accept this gift.”
Jin’s face flushed crimson. She had struck at the boy’s wound—the scars on his face. Rumor painted him as frail, yet here he bore the kind of marks that hunters alone typically carried.
Eldetr cleared her throat pointedly and moved the chest toward Eriponi’s side. The tension was escalating. As the king’s advisor, it was time to signal restraint.
“Oh, one more thing.”
She continued plucking the bowstring several more times before letting out a small exclamation, as if remembering something. Then, with an embarrassed smile, she added:
“The garakpul will stretch over time. When that happens, do inform me again. I shall refit it for you anew.”
She knew full well that Jin was not yet of age to hunt. And yet she had presented a bow of such unsuitable size to its recipient!
This was blatant insult, a deliberate belittling of Jin’s youth.
‘It will take as long as the garakpul stretches before you grow old enough to hunt.’
Yet there was nothing to openly protest, for the object itself was flawless—a masterwork beyond reproach.
“…Thank you.”
Those were the only words Jin could manage. To add anything more would risk emphasizing his own weakness.
“Think nothing of it. Your Highness’s joy is my joy as well.”
Eriponi smiled broadly and bowed. Though even in bowing, her forehead barely tilted. Now it was impossible to discern whether this was deliberate disrespect or merely a consequence of her stature.
The Prime Minister stroked his beard awkwardly, casting sidelong glances at Jin.
‘If Your Highness does not speak, neither can I intervene easily….’
Jin’s hands, resting upon his knees, clenched with silent force. His tongue swam with countless responses. He recognized the King of Ruswena’s provocation, yet struggled to determine how best to counter it.
He could not help it—he understood that each word he spoke would carry consequences far from simple. Though there was a difference between empire and kingdom, Ruswena stood backed by the alliance of three nations, did it not?
This could be deliberate provocation. An attempt to goad the young Prince into a reflexive response favorable to her own nation.
‘What should I say? If I say….’
Could it bring about the best possible outcome?
The prestige of the imperial household, naturally, and any choice had to benefit the Empire itself. Yet in that moment, Eriponi picked up her teacup again, and Jhin’s opportunity to speak was buried awkwardly beneath the surface.
“The tea is truly delicious, Your Highness. The fatigue from the schedule seems to melt away in an instant.”
“Ah. Yes. Then I’m glad.”
Romandro gestured to the officials. A signal suggesting it was time to wrap up the meeting.
Jhin appeared uncomfortable, and Ruswena’s attitude was decidedly presumptuous. Even if they had broached matters of greater importance first, they were now belittling the Prince with mere gifts. They too needed to reconvene and discuss this further.
“…There, Your Highness.”
But Jhin frowned and showed signs of refusal. If I withdrew now, wouldn’t that be a true loss for me? It would be an act that diminished Bariel’s dignity.
Jhin took a moment to steady his breathing as if to say to wait, then sipped his tea. Eriponi simply continued to gaze at the boy’s face.
‘How cute. So cute.’
What could possibly be going through that small head? What could a ten-year-old Prince of the Empire possibly accomplish?
It was the moment Eriponi found herself smiling without realizing it.
The door to the reception room opened, and the atmosphere shifted instantly.
“Ah.”
“Pardon my intrusion.”
A low, refined voice. Eriponi reflexively turned her head. She could see people naturally stepping back to clear a path.
Golden hair and green eyes.
And a youthful appearance.
“Oh.”
Eriponi let out an intrigued sound without meaning to. Was this not the famous Ian Hielo, Minister of the Magic Department?
Ian entered further into the room accompanied by Mages, apparently having come from handling business. Romandro hurried over and murmured as if casting a spell.
“Was the matter handled well, Ian?”
Why did he arrive so late!
Ian seemed to hear Romandro’s inner thoughts. And no wonder—the atmosphere in the reception room was decidedly strange. It hadn’t been long since he’d stepped out.
Ian whispered to Romandro.
“There was an issue with the magical artifacts, but it was nothing serious.”
And while meeting the gaze of Eriponi, who was watching me, I asked.
“What conversation were you having?”

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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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