Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 4

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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 4. Shackles
“It has been an honor to meet you today, Ian.”
At the main gate, the carriage that Mollin had arrived in awaited him. As the elderly man removed his hat in greeting, a servant brought his cane. Ian likewise placed a hand over his chest in respect.
“Despite the abruptness of this visit, I’m certain the Marquis will be delighted to hear such kind words.”
It was a formal and elegant gesture. His posture was flawless, as though he were a tutor of imperial etiquette, without a single flaw. Mollin gazed down at the child’s eyes once more and smiled. His deep green eyes were as clear as glass marbles.
“You truly care for the Count, don’t you, Ian?”
Was it sincere? No.
It was a question masquerading as praise. Whether it was mockery or merely a probe, the intent remained ambiguous. Mollin seemed to expect a response, but Ian had no intention of satisfying the old man’s desires.
“Safe travels to you.”
I merely maintained the bare minimum of courtesy with an ambiguous smile.
Since I couldn’t discern his intent, my response had to match that uncertainty. Mollin seemed only more intrigued by my demeanor.
“Then I shall see you next week.”
The enrollment procedure wouldn’t be completed in a single day.
Four times total, spaced a week apart. I would need to spend this kind of time with Mollin for about a month. Only then would the report reach the Capital, and it would take another fortnight for the official dispatch to arrive.
One way or another, if nothing unexpected occurred, I had more than two months to work with. I confirmed the reprieve granted to me and exhaled in relief. Swift adaptation had become second nature.
“Then. Farewell.”
Creak.
The coachman opened the door for Mollin. He maintained eye contact with me through the small window until he disappeared from view.
Only once the carriage was no longer visible did the full appearance of the Bratz Mansion come into focus.
‘Quite antiquated for a Borderlands noble.’
“Ian, shall I show you to your room?”
“No. I should return to the drawing room first.”
The servant standing behind me asked cautiously, and I refused. I needed to check what had become of Chel’s aftermath.
With my understanding of the situation still incomplete, I couldn’t predict what consequences my power might bring.
So I had to see it myself.
I had to see with my own eyes and hear with my own ears.
“Go on ahead.”
“Yes, understood. But, Ian!”
I turned at the servant’s call. Now that I looked at him, his fidgeting face seemed familiar. He was the boy who had borne the brunt of Chel’s tyranny in the drawing room.
“Is your hand alright?”
The servant grasped his slightly swollen hand and bowed. It wasn’t properly treated, but the inflammation seemed to have subsided.
“…Thank you.”
“That’s enough.”
What was so remarkable about such a small kindness?
The moment the servant disappeared around the corner, I looked down at my own hand. There was something I needed to confirm.
‘I can feel magical power.’
They say magical power resonates with the soul, not the body. Even in this unfamiliar form, it seems I can summon strength. In such cases, my knowledge is lacking, which is unsettling… but.
‘At least that’s fortunate.’
While incomparable to my original body, with training I could wield magical power far more easily. Even if the worst came to pass, as long as I possessed magic, I could avoid that one fate.
Knock, knock.
By the time I reached the drawing room and raised my hand to knock on the door, I paused.
From within came only the idle chatter of unfamiliar servants—clearly they were cleaning up the mess on the floor.
“Ugh. Really. What on earth is all this?”
“Tell me about it. At seventeen years old, no less.”
“Shh. Keep your voice down. The lady warned us. Don’t breathe a word of this. She said to be careful—there could be consequences.”
“I’d believe it more if Ian had made a mistake himself. Last time, the young master tore out his hair so badly he fainted. When they said urine, I thought he’d torn it out again this time!”
The servants’ laughter rang out clearly. I listened from the crack in the door, concealing my presence. They seemed to be living like they were catching rats. Tsk, tsk.
“But when I saw him coming out of the garden today, I was really surprised. His bearing was so proper—more elegant than the lady herself.”
“That’s just because we have a guest. Otherwise, would the Count have allowed it? The blood shows. Looking at how shiny he is, like his mother, the foreign blood is definitely mixed in. That one.”
“But his mother isn’t a courtesan, is she? Why do you call him foreign?”
“True. When you think about it, it’s the Count’s fault. Why would he touch a woman of means?”
“Woman of means? Is sucking on your fingers considered living well?”
Creak.
I realized there was nothing more worth hearing and opened the door. All the servants who had been speaking so carelessly froze.
“…Oh, there. Ian?”
“Where have my parents and older brother gone?”
Should I make excuses, or should I say nothing?
The servants were still addressing me respectfully and maintaining proper etiquette, but everyone knew of my lowborn origins and that I would soon be sold to the Cheonryo Tribe.
“Do I need to ask again?”
“Ah! My apologies! The lady and Young Master Chel have retired to their rooms, and the Count has gone to the main gate with the butler.”
If he went to the main gate, he must be seeing off Mollin belatedly. He’d been in such a rush. To send off Mollin and me with only a grown son’s mistake to worry about.
He was clearly concerned about what schemes that cunning old man might have concocted.
‘Our paths have crossed at the wrong moment.’
“I understand.”
As I calmly closed the door and left, the servants let out sighs of relief and immediately began scolding one of the women.
“Goodness! Really! Bella! Your mouth is the problem.”
“So what? In a couple of months, he’ll be sold off anyway.”
“Don’t you watch your tongue? Do you want to be punished?”
This was something the Count paid special attention to. Wasn’t he conducting a massive rehabilitation of my status for the sake of peace?
The Imperial Palace might overlook it as an internal matter, but if the Cheonryo Tribe found out, there was no telling what leverage they might seize. There was a reason all the servants in the manor treated me with such deference.
“Ah, Father.”
I spotted Count Derga emerging from the far end of the corridor. He approached me with his brow deeply furrowed.
“Has Mollin departed?”
“Yes. I watched until the carriage he arrived in left.”
“What did you discuss on the way?”
“Nothing of particular importance. He made a comment about Chel’s mistake, but it was merely a concerned warning.”
At the mention of Chel, Count Derga’s frown deepened with frustration. I noted every detail of his reaction. From his expression, it was clear that Chel had kept silent about the golden eyes.
“…Go and have the carriage prepared.”
The Count felt his stress mounting and issued the order to his butler. Then he placed a pipe made of jade between his lips and exhaled a thick plume of harsh smoke, indifferent to my presence.
And then, suddenly.
“How did you know about Furin?”
It was a question that arose as I carefully retraced the lunch conversation. After all, I—a mere bastard—knew of a Capital scholar whom even he hadn’t known about. Ian offered a vague explanation without much deliberation.
“I overheard someone in the household mention it.”
“Whose words?”
“I’m not sure of their name.”
A child who had only recently arrived from outside.
It was an improvisation born from the judgment that I couldn’t possibly know everyone in the manor. It seemed plausible enough, for Count Derga filled in the blanks himself.
‘Perhaps Chel’s tutor? I heard he graduated from Bariel University.’
Well. It wasn’t particularly important.
Count Derga deliberately lowered his voice to sound stern.
“Next week, do it without mistakes. If you drink fingerbowl water again, I’ll shove your head into the mop bucket.”
I wondered if this was an error the child had made before Emperor Ian possessed him. Ian simply nodded without adding anything further. Count Derga held smoke in his mouth and gazed down at Ian with a measured look.
‘Hmm.’
He certainly resembled his mother, so his face was worth looking at. When I first brought him here, he was dripping with filth and crying all day, so there had been no opportunity to observe him properly. And I hadn’t felt any desire to look at him anyway.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
If his family registry was properly arranged, his appearance would surely be welcomed by the Cheonryo Tribe. Besides, he was only sixteen now. A marriage alliance with the clan leader’s family might be possible. Though what would become of his life once he crossed the border was uncertain.
In any case, if things went well, it could be useful for the formal peace accord.
“Forget what your brother did today. Erase it from your mind.”
“Yes. I understand.”
It was already embarrassing before the household servants, but if the Cheonryo Tribe learned of it? The dignity of the next Marquis would surely become a laughingstock. Just as he was nearly finished with his cigarette, the butler appeared with an overcoat.
“Count. Everything is prepared.”
“Go.”
Then the Count turned away coldly.
Through the window, I confirmed that he boarded the carriage. Judging by how the servants didn’t even come out to see him off, it was clearly a secret outing.
“Tsk.”
A man of no consequence. I swept all thoughts of him from my mind and turned away. First, I should map out the entire manor in my head. Or else meet with Chel and establish firm control.
Wandering through the vast manor like this, I eventually reached the central kitchen. Servants and their families were gathered in small groups in the back courtyard, eating the leftovers from dinner.
“Ian?”
“What is it?”
“Nothing much. I was just taking a walk.”
How strange. Usually, he wouldn’t come out even if the building were on fire. As the servants mumbled and continued eating, I frowned slightly.
‘They’re not livestock, yet they eat what’s been left over…’
This would never happen in Bariel where I came from. Aside from the Slums, who would eat discarded food?
Regardless of the overall improved standard of living, since the outbreak of diseases transmitted through saliva, even the Slums had abandoned this habit.
But at the Bratz Mansion, it seemed a familiar practice, with no hesitation whatsoever.
“Are you hungry? Shall I get you some?”
“Hey! How dare you speak so rudely to the young master!”
“Oh, I apologize.”
“No. No, it’s fine.”
The Cheonryo Tribe’s territory lay in the heart of the roiling Great Desert.
The Bratz territory, closest to this place, bore the same scars—a parched land compared to others. The farmland itself was simply insufficient.
Yet how many soldiers were stationed here due to its border position? The balance between supply and demand had long since shattered, leaving the common folk perpetually hungry.
“Then please, eat your fill.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll go inside.”
I stepped aside to allow them to dine in peace. But the more I pondered it, the more something felt amiss. A sense of discord, perhaps? Given the vast gulf between Emperor Ian’s era and this present time, it was natural enough—yet even accounting for that, something seemed to be missing.
‘What could it be? What feels so hollow….’
“Excuse me. Ian, sir.”
At that moment, someone called to me from behind. It was a girl with braided black hair, about my age. One of the household staff who had been dining earlier.
“What is it?”
“Well, I’m planning to go to the market in an hour.”
…Why was she telling me this? I maintained my gentle smile while my mind raced furiously.
What could it mean? Surely I wasn’t responsible for market errands too? Even adults found it difficult to manage the manor’s provisions.
“Is there anything you’d like me to tell your mother….”
“Ah.”
As the girl fidgeted with her fingers, her intention became clear. It seemed she conveyed my regards to my mother each time she ventured out. Since I could neither read nor write, I had no choice but to rely on others’ voices.
‘Then it means I cannot leave this manor.’
I was a precious hostage for peace. Until the Cheonryo Tribe arrived, I would not be able to leave the Count’s Manor of my own volition. With a single phrase, the girl had reminded me of the shackles binding my feet.

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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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