Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 296

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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 296
Fire. And So It Happened This Way and That
The gatekeepers who managed entry to the imperial palace were playing cards with strips of dried meat clenched between their teeth. Even if they were waiting for their shift change, such conduct would normally be unthinkable.
But what did it matter? Bariel was in festival mode, and their cheers could be heard even from atop the walls. In a world where those drunk on wine and laughter ran wild, weren’t they citizens of the empire before they were gatekeepers?
“Did you see Cliffford earlier?”
“Yeah. He was incredible. How can a person move so lightly? It wasn’t dancing—it was acrobatics.”
“I thought it was just a showy procession, but he didn’t stop even as he entered the palace. Wow, what energy.”
Above all, entry was restricted to everyone except foreign guests. For the smooth operations of the imperial palace, or so they said. In other words, it was peaceful.
“Damn it! Who shuffled the cards?”
“I’m done. With a hand like this, I couldn’t even wipe my ass.”
The gatekeeper who’d given up on the game leaned his body against the outer wall and smacked his lips. Soap bubbles and flower pollen fell thick among the crowds moving like swarms of ants.
A peaceful and warm scene—one that would be perfect with a cold beer.
“Huh?”
If only for that one horse cutting through the crowd. What madman brings a horse out on a day like this? The already congested road became even more of a mess.
Just as the gatekeeper was about to relay this to a soldier below, he noticed the horse’s head was fixed toward the palace gate.
“Open the gate!”
“Berik?”
His hair was disheveled from being jostled about, and his entire body was tense with worry that the horse might cause an accident. Berik looked upward and shouted again loudly.
“Open it now!”
“Just a moment!”
The gatekeeper hurried down to check if there was any notification from the Magic Ministry. No matter how trustworthy someone was, entry without authorization was impossible.
Fortunately or unfortunately, at the very bottom of the record sheet was written the Magic Ministry’s approval: “Berik—Return passage authorized.”
“Ah, he must have left this when Cliffford passed through earlier. Berik, wait. I’ll open the side gate for you.”
Click.
While a side gate wouldn’t work for something as large as a carriage, it was more than sufficient for one person and one horse.
Berik rushed into the palace and began brushing off his clothes. Up close, he looked far dirtier.
“Why did you come separately from Ian? And through the crowded pedestrian path, no less.”
“An errand. Isn’t the central road only for imperial family members?”
“…During the festival, it’s an exception.”
“Ah. Damn.”
Realizing he’d gone through unnecessary trouble, Berik rolled his eyes. He’d circled the outer areas following Cliffford’s carriage tracks as Ian had instructed, but found nothing unusual.
And on top of that, the return journey had been difficult. Suddenly, he felt hungry.
“Where’s Ian?”
“Well, it seems Cliffford’s carriage wasn’t heading to the main palace. There must be a problem. He went to the temporary residence, so Ian probably went there too. The Mages escorted him together.”
“Got it. Thanks.”
“Berik!”
The gatekeeper grabbed Berik as he tried to mount the horse and whispered.
“Say, you. Can you get some of the tribute alcohol that Cliffford’s country sends?”
“Alcohol? What alcohol?”
“They say their country’s liquor is so sweet, but surely His Majesty wouldn’t drink it…. I imagine he’ll give some as a gift of appreciation. If you happen to receive any, share a little with me. I’ll pay generously.”
Berik felt his hungry stomach respond.
Meat and alcohol!
The path to heaven—nothing special needed. That would do. Berik waved his hand dismissively and hurried forward. His destination was Cliffford’s annex, where meat, alcohol, and Ian awaited.
Clop clop clop!
Neigh!
Carriages were scattered haphazardly before the annex—quite different from how Ruswena’s had been arranged in neat rows, though Berik wouldn’t know that. He simply walked between those unloading and moving cargo, glancing around curiously.
“Excuse me, please step aside.”
“Don’t open the silk boxes—just move them as they are.”
“Check the ground carefully so the dye containers don’t leak! If they do, it’ll be a real nightmare. Move them this way, this way!”
Imperial administrators handling tribute goods passed back and forth, but they were strangers to him. Not a single mage in sight. Just as Berik was about to turn back, thinking he’d taken a wrong turn—
“Don’t go that way. May said the Prince is resting and we shouldn’t let anyone approach.”
“Ah, so this is the place. Then what about these?”
“Bring them along. The storage over there is empty.”
The Prince? That foul-smelling Prince?
Berik rolled his eyes and poked his head into the corridor. Several guards were firmly stationed before the quarters. They turned their heads at the sound of his footsteps.
“Are you an Imperial administrator? What brings you here?”
“W-welcome! Yes, yes. This is Bariel!”
“…? Thank you.”
What’s this? Is he simple-minded? Yet judging by his presence in the palace, he seemed to be someone of confirmed status.
As the guards grew wary, Berik laughed awkwardly and passed by.
‘That smell. If I could just get one proper whiff of it, I’d know what it is. It’s driving me crazy.’
Berik glanced slyly at the annex’s wall. He wasn’t sure if this place was like others, but buildings typically came with gardens, large or small. If he went that way, he could pretend it was an accident—surely something would work out?
They’d only just arrived here too, so they wouldn’t know the layout either. How would anyone know if he’d taken a wrong turn or climbed over a wall?
‘Mm. Good. I’ll sneak in quietly, just get a whiff, and leave.’
Berik confirmed no one was watching and leaped onto the wall. Light movements, quiet footsteps. Everything was perfect. He curled his body as round as possible and crept along the wall.
Rustle.
As he went a bit further, bushes came into view. It was a garden attached to the annex—or rather, more like a private courtyard. Instead of having a bedroom with full windows, the courtyard seemed designed to be enclosed for privacy.
‘Let’s see, where could the Prince of Grape be? Huh?’
Berik froze, his face hidden behind branches. Someone was crouched and lying face-down in the middle of the lawn.
Aside from the luxurious fabric, it was unmistakably that orange hair from the portrait Romandro had drawn. The exposed nape of his neck was bronzed.
That was definitely the Prince of Grape Country. He was cradling a luxuriant, glossy orange tail in his arms.
‘What the hell. Weird taste. He’s got an animal tail attached to him. Even neighborhood kids wouldn’t dress like that. Tsk tsk.’
Festival-goers wore all sorts of costumes, but Berik never expected the Prince of such a noble country to do the same. Was this why people said everyone lived the same way?
Berik sniffed and watched the Prince. Yet for some reason, he wasn’t moving at all. Berik observed without much thought, when suddenly he recalled a conversation between Ian and the delegation’s overseer.
‘Gasp! That’s right! He said he was in pain—did he die? I need to call Ian—’
Rustle.
Then, slowly rising—fox ears.
Perked up, moving naturally as if reading the wind, they twitched. Simultaneously, the tail drew a soft arc and tapped against the ground.
Berik realized something was wrong and gasped in shock.
‘Whoa, shit….’
The Prince’s eyes gleaming beneath the sunlight were unmistakably those of a beast.
Berik retreated silently along the wall, just as he had arrived.
* * *
“That’s what happened, and that’s how it went! Do you understand now?!”
Crash!
Berik poured out everything he had witnessed, slamming his fist against the wall with satisfying force. His clenched fist spoke of unwavering resolve.
But facing him were Romandro with eyes narrowed skeptically, Xiaoxi with an expressionless face, Jin wearing an awkward smile, and Ian quietly sipping his tea.
Xiaoxi stepped closer once more and sniffed the air around Berik.
“…I don’t smell any medicine on him.”
“That’s fortunate. If he’d caused trouble during the appointment ceremony, he’d be expelled from the Imperial Guards without warning. If it’s neither alcohol nor medicine, did he succumb to the heat? Though it’s not hot enough for that yet.”
As Romandro examined Berik carefully and muttered, Berik grabbed his own head and shook it back and forth frantically.
“Aaah! No, I’m completely fine! Totally sane! The Prince of Grape Country had fox ears, a tail like this, and was just swishing it around so gracefully!”
Berik reenacted the posture of prostrating himself. Romandro closed his eyes as if he couldn’t bear the sight, while Xiaoxi lowered his body and peered quietly into Berik’s pupils, just in case.
“…His pupils appear normal.”
“Xiao, are you seriously treating me like I’m crazy?”
As Berik bared his teeth and growled, Ian audibly set down his teacup.
Clink.
“You mean to say he’s a beastkin?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t know anything about that, but he had fox ears and a tail, I’m telling you!”
“That’s what we call beastkin.”
Beastkin.
A race possessing the external characteristics of beasts—not something one encountered frequently in life. Due to their alien appearance, they were socially ostracized. If they possessed magical power as well, they were treated as monsters and typically met tragic ends.
“Ian, don’t listen to this heat-addled fool.”
Romandro waved his hand dismissively and spoke with conviction. And for good reason—the person in question was no mere passerby, but Prince Noah himself. First in the line of succession to the Kingdom of Cliffford.
“I’m telling you I’m fine!”
“I haven’t seen him myself, but there are records of Prince Noah visiting Bariel in his childhood. Or rather, would he have come only to Bariel? As first in the line of succession, Prince Noah handles diplomatic affairs with neighboring nations. If he possessed beastkin characteristics, word would surely have spread!”
“Have you ever encountered beastkin yourself, Romandro?”
“Me? Well… no, I haven’t.”
Despite traveling to border regions as a reconstruction specialist, he had never met one directly. He only confirmed their existence through hearsay and rumors.
Yet Ian did not dismiss Berik’s account as mere nonsense.
‘It simply hasn’t been revealed yet.’
A persecuted race, faded into obscurity—that’s what everyone believed. But future research and social analysis would prove this belief wrong.
They had not faded away. They had simply hidden their existence while blending into society.
‘It could be called a racial evolution for survival. They are no different from humans, yet their appearance alone brought mortal danger. Some beastkin evolved to manifest their traits only in specific circumstances. If what Berik saw is true…’
One could consider them beastkin in the process of evolution.
Could the royal family of Cliffford itself be beastkin? In foreign diplomacy, being beastkin carried considerable disadvantage, so intentional concealment would be understandable.
“Berik didn’t drink—”
“Right, right. I didn’t have a single sip.”
“And if he didn’t take any medicine—”
“Ugh, what are you talking about? I’m the very picture of sobriety!”
“It seems worth investigating.”
Berik responded to my every word, cheering at the fact that I believed in him and clenching my fist tightly.
Then I stuck my tongue out at Romandro and Xiaoxi, wiggling my entire rear end. Romandro told me to hold still and swatted my backside sharply.
“But how? We can’t drag out a prince who claims to be ill, and rushing in without warning wouldn’t be proper either. To act on just Berik’s word… it seems we have no viable plan.”
At Romandro’s concern, I set down my teacup.
“Why would there be no plan? This is the Imperial Palace, after all.”

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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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