Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 445

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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 445
Fire. I’ll Go With You
Ian tilted his head while fiddling with the cuffs. His bangs fell messily as he did—they would have stayed perfectly in place if a servant had styled them, but doing it alone left much to be desired.
Ian blew gently at his bangs. At an official conference, it was hardly becoming for a Minister, of all people, to appear with his hair down. Even accounting for the fact that he hadn’t yet come of age.
“…Berik.”
“I can’t do it. I don’t know about other things, but this really isn’t my job. I don’t even comb my own hair—how am I supposed to do yours?”
“Simply pin it back.”
“That’s exactly the problem. If something goes wrong, I’ll end up pulling all your hair out. You’re going to sit in a conference with patchy bangs?”
Berik, perched on the back of the sofa, drew an X with his hand. It would be better to just run around and handle things physically than to help with hairstyling he’d never done before and risk getting scolded for it.
Ian gestured with a nod toward the grooming supplies, as if to say it was fine.
“I won’t scold you.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about—it’s those kids making a fuss outside that annoy me. Just leave it down. What’s the big deal? It looks nice and flowing.”
“Who goes to an official conference with their hair down?”
“Honestly, you keep saying you’re quitting as Minister, quitting, muttering those incantations every day—and now you’re worried about this? Stop talking nonsense!”
“I know everyone outside is listening. Bring in one of the servants.”
“….”
Ian gave the final order, but no sound came from beyond the door. They were listening to everything, yet pretended not to be. If he suddenly threw the door open, he could already picture them scrambling to escape.
Ian reluctantly abandoned the idea of styling his hair and picked up his outer robe. As he adjusted his clothes, he flipped through documents here and there. His hands moved busily, but his gaze remained fixed on reading the text.
Some time passed like this. When Ian judged it was time to depart, he closed the file folder.
Bang!
“Goodness, you startled me.”
“Ian! Huff, huff!”
“What is it? Romandro, why have you come?”
Romandro burst in. His hair was oddly tousled to one side, his shirt stuck out haphazardly in places, and even his shoes were hastily shoved on. He’d clearly come in a rush.
He stumbled forward and caught his breath, while Ian watched the silhouettes of the Mages visible through the crack in the door.
“Berik is right. You should be with the baby—why are you here?”
“Well… huff, huff, wasn’t today supposed to be the first negotiation between multiple nations? During the grand conference, huff, I couldn’t assist you, so this time I absolutely must! Must, supervise—no, that is, I wanted to help earnestly.”
“…There’s no need. Simply approving documents from home is help enough.”
Ian replied as if to say he understood. The Mages had summoned him. Since there had been no one to stop Ian’s rampage during the last conference, they intended to have Romandro accompany him this time to prevent any unforeseen incidents.
Romandro wiped away the sweat dripping from his chin, placed his hands on his hips, and took steady breaths.
“That’s impossible! To feed and clothe our baby until adulthood, I have no choice but to work hard. I know you’re busy right now, but I’m grateful for the consideration you’ve shown.”
“Is Viviana well?”
“Oh, she’s so healthy it’s almost a problem. I’m absolutely smitten with her.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And it’s not a consideration—it’s a right you rightfully deserve as my Steward.”
“That settles it. How could I, as your Steward, stand by and watch my superior go out looking like this? Come now, this way.”
As Romandro seated Ian before the mirror, Berik’s eyes rolled in their sockets following the movement. He’d rushed over at the Mages’ call despite being anti-Ian. It made no sense. He seemed helpful yet not helpful at the same time.
As Berik’s eyes narrowed, Romandro made a stern face and nodded his head.
“Berik. Don’t laze about there—fetch the gloves from the drawer.”
“Right away, sir.”
“Ian, I should sweep all your hair back, yes?”
“Yes, please.”
Romandro groomed my hair with practiced familiarity, as if tending to his own. I closed my eyes contentedly, and he caught my reflection in the mirror with a sidelong glance.
“I’m handling matters from home, but I’d appreciate a more detailed explanation, if you don’t mind.”
“Understood. There’s nothing particularly crucial to know. Everyone has arrived except the northern factions. Prince Noah is manifesting his curse, the King of Eriphony is in conflict with the Ruswena Mages, and Burgos is….”
My eyes opened slightly. The woman who served as the Burgos delegation’s representative suddenly came to mind. We had simply arranged quarters for her within the imperial palace alongside the others, and I’d received reports recently that she was quietly preparing for negotiations.
“The Burgos delegation included not a single noble from the capital.”
“No nobles at all? None whatsoever?”
“There was one administrator from the provinces, but given he was from the Bariel borderlands, he appeared to be accompanying them as a guide.”
The complete absence of nobles spoke volumes. It first suggested that most of the current King Damon’s supporting factions had scattered, and further indicated that the capital was in turmoil due to power struggles.
They couldn’t afford to lower their guard for even a moment, much less embark on a journey to Bariel. The moment they turned their backs, they’d be devoured by others. What benefit could there be in defending a crumbling dynasty in its final days? Burgos was descending into ruin.
“Then the delegation’s origins matter greatly. Whoever formally dispatched this delegation is essentially the next dynasty’s ruler, wouldn’t they? As a vassal of Bariel, they would be the ones in direct communication.”
“But there is something rather peculiar.”
“What is it?”
“The woman serving as the delegation’s representative—her origins are unclear.”
“Hmm? Why would the delegation’s representative be unclear?”
“There is an officially recorded identity, but there are considerable discrepancies. During the guards’ interrogation, certain details differed from what was recorded. It was treated as a simple mistake and corrected, but given that the report reached me, it suggests the guards themselves found something suspicious.”
Rustle.
Romandro set down the documents he’d been holding while grooming my hair. Among the numerous delegation members’ names, the woman’s topped the list. He turned the name over in his mind, but nothing particularly came to him.
“Well, when a nation is in chaos, inexperienced newcomers often take on important roles, don’t they? What does it matter where an official delegation member comes from? What we should focus on is the delegation’s actual stance. What did they say about King Damon?”
“They said they would speak during negotiations and have been keeping their remarks guarded.”
“Have they made contact with King Damon?”
“Only the delegation’s representative had the authority for a one-on-one meeting. Nothing remarkable occurred—they merely exchanged brief pleasantries.”
“That’s puzzling. If they were abandoning Damon, there would be no need for such a meeting.”
“I find it equally strange. Yet it doesn’t seem they intend to continue the Runkbis dynasty either. We have no choice but to hear their official position during the negotiations, as they themselves stated.”
Through the guards and scribes, I had made certain there were no secret signals or hidden communications between the two. The other departments’ ministers in the imperial palace would have verified this directly as well.
Detailed policies would change according to Burgos’s stance, so paying attention to the delegation’s movements was natural. Even if Bariel was the predator and Burgos the prey, that stance remained unchanged. The stronger the beast, the more flawless it was in consuming its prey.
“There, finished.”
Romandro concentrated once more on grooming my hair, then tapped the strands with his fingertips. I tilted my head to verify nothing was out of place.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you? Between us? Well then, shall we head out? Is this all the documents to submit?”
“There are a few more, but I sent those ahead to the conference hall through Berik.”
“Of course. Oh, by the way. What about the rest?”
“The rest?”
“The northern factions. You said so earlier—they haven’t arrived yet. We can proceed with negotiations without them, but if they suddenly raise objections after everything is settled, won’t that become problematic? Have you heard where they are now?”
“Ah….”
In truth, Bariel wasn’t placing much importance on whether they attended. The Atan Clan, for instance, could provide both direct and indirect assistance regarding the schism.
But strictly speaking, that was Cliffford’s responsibility to handle.
“Bariel is focusing solely on strengthening control over Burgos and Ruswena, so they won’t concern themselves with it. We’re also short on personnel. Hasha receives frequent correspondence from Jeonseogoo, but lately, nothing recent has arrived.”
“Is that so?”
“Still, they won’t simply abstain without consideration. They are all leaders of their respective factions, and understanding the current situation is as important as anything. Particularly Efdiram, she….”
I turned to look at Berik standing there dumbfounded. The leather gloves I’d pulled on with all my strength creaked tautly.
“She’ll surely come.”
“Why are you looking at me while saying that?”
“Because she’s like you, Berik. If you think of how you’d act, the answer becomes clear.”
“That sounded like an insult.”
“Not at all. It’s a compliment.”
Someone who, once deciding on a path, pushes through to the end. Someone who sees only what’s visible, with no need to account for branches. Someone whose depths are transparent enough to guess at, yet unexpectedly deep enough that one cannot easily step into them.
I smiled faintly and nodded to Berik—a signal to open the office door and lead the way.
“Let’s go. We’ll be late for our appointment.”
“There’s still plenty of time, though.”
Creeeeak.
As I opened the door, resolute Mages stood in two lines to greet me. Their eyes gleamed with grim determination. Romandro instinctively hid behind me and held his breath.
But I walked out of the office without hesitation and moved forward before them.
“You were all here, yet you didn’t answer my summons? Do you wish for your superior to appear at an official gathering in such a disheveled state?”
“Oh, no, sir!”
“…All of you, lower what you’ve wrapped around your heads to your necks. We must meet Prince Gin, and no one except the Emperor may wear anything upon their head.”
“Ah, yes, sir!”
“Ian! If you speak alone in this negotiation again, we’ll truly be ruined. Yes? You understand, don’t you?”
“I, I won’t stay silent! Really!”
The Mages lowered their red cloth to their necks as I instructed, then whispered to Romandro standing behind them.
‘Please help keep Ian’s mouth in check!’
‘Got it. Don’t worry and relax your eyes a bit!’
‘That won’t work. This is our resolve!’
‘Good grief. What a commotion…’
The Mages seemed to think they were speaking secretly among themselves, their lips moving visibly.
I cut through the Mages and spoke.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, Ian!”
Tap-tap-tap!
Rumble!
Dozens of Mages following the boy Minister. All of them had red cloth tied around their necks, as if marking them as mine. Berik, clutching a stack of documents at his side, quietly pulled a scrap of cloth from his pocket and wrapped it around his neck.
“I’m coming too!”
Fluttering a red cloth the same color as his hair, Berik pushed through the crowd of Mages.

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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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