Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 60

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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 60. My Father, the Emperor
As I grew older, the Emperor craved freshness. The renovation of his bedchamber reflected this desire—one wall replaced with glass so he could always gaze upon the verdant garden beyond. Sometimes he remained so motionless I wondered if he had already passed, and now Marib felt the same way.
“Father?”
The Emperor turned at his son’s voice, a gentle smile crossing his face. Kindness emanated from the deep creases etched across his brow.
“You called for me?”
“Yes, Marib. You seem quite busy these days.”
“It’s always this way. Summer brings its demands.”
I settled naturally into a seat before the Emperor as I spoke. This was a private space, a private summons. I studied my father’s complexion as I asked my question.
“Is something troubling you?”
“…No. It’s just that it feels like it’s been far too long since I’ve seen your face.”
“That’s sudden of you to say.”
“Marib.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Has something happened between you and Gail?”
That the Emperor favored Gail was an open secret. I knew the truth as well, yet the Emperor never spoke Gail’s name in my presence—a deliberate measure for the sake of succession and for his own children.
“No. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?”
“…I had a dream yesterday. Carolina appeared in it.”
Unlike me, the legitimate heir born of the Queen, Gail was the son of the Emperor’s first concubine. She was said to be of some obscure noble lineage, a woman who had risen as far as her beauty could carry her.
“A woman who never appeared in my dreams before, and yet there she was…”
The Emperor’s voice trembled with moisture. I swallowed a sigh inwardly. I should have made an excuse about work and not come. I turned my gaze away, deliberately concealing my expression.
A single peach tree stood alone in the distance.
“She handed me a peach. And weeping, she asked me to call for Gail.”
“Father.”
“If there’s no problem, then so be it. That’s all.”
The Emperor patted the back of my hand dismissively, unilaterally ending the conversation. Even with his benevolent smile, his arrogant manner of communication remained unchanged. I nodded and left my father’s bedchamber.
Creak.
“Your Highness?”
As I stood motionless beyond the door, the Steward called to me with confusion. I approached the servants standing in a line.
“Is there any problem with the maintenance of His Majesty’s bedchamber?”
“No? No, no, everything is fine, Your Highness.”
“Then why does my father’s sleep seem so troubled?”
“I… beg your pardon?”
The servant seemed to hear such words for the first time. As he instinctively raised his head to question me, I struck his cheek in an instant.
Crack!
“If I hear such words from you one more time, I will sever the necks of everyone under your care.”
“Y-yes, I will remember this.”
Neither father nor son realized it, but they were identical in their nature. Warm as spring, yet suddenly delivering an unexpected chill without warning. The servants exhaled in relief once I disappeared into the shadows.
“Is today’s schedule complete?”
“Yes, Your Highness. However, it seems you should go to your office rather than your bedchamber.”
The schedule is complete, you say?
When Prince Marib’s expression darkened, his Steward quickly added a clarification.
“A messenger pigeon has arrived from Romandro.”
“I’ll check it tomorrow. I’m exhausted today.”
“However, the report appears to be rather shocking….”
The Steward couldn’t help but understand his superior’s fatigue after being worn down by the Emperor. But there was a complication—Mollin had accompanied the group. This meant the news wouldn’t remain known only to Prince Marib; Prince Gail would learn of it as well.
“Make it brief.”
It was a decision to hear it first before proceeding. The Steward, honoring his superior’s wishes, delivered the report in concise, condensed form.
“Count Derga’s illegitimate son Ian has rebuilt and taken control of Bratz alongside the Cheonryeo Tribe. Captain Erika has left the territory.”
“…What?”
“Moreover, he is a mana user.”
Prince Marib stopped walking and turned to face his Steward. The Steward’s expression immediately conveyed his innocence, insisting that every word of his report was truthful.
“This is chaos.”
“Indeed it is.”
“I’m going to my office.”
“Yes. I’ll make the arrangements.”
Prince Marib clenched his teeth and tied his hair up in a single knot. It was a night when the full moon rose.
* * *
The day after the full moon rose.
In the back alleys of a tavern in Merelrof’s territory, one could easily come across unusual information.
“What? They’ll exchange gula for money in Bratz?”
“Ah, keep your voice down! Someone might hear.”
“But why on earth? What do they need weeds for?”
“How should I know? Those barbarians are utterly incomprehensible. Even Rogan from the red brick house brought six bundles and received two gold coins.”
“I heard there’s a time limit. But the nearby forests have already been picked clean. You’d have to venture deep to find gula.”
“Unbelievable. In all my days, I never thought I’d hear of people paying money to buy weeds. It’s madness.”
“What do you know? Isn’t this good for us? My wife’s been nagging me constantly about wanting to eat meat anyway.”
Though people whispered about who would gather the gula, everyone among Merelrof’s lower classes already knew of it. The same was true for the residents of Bratz territory.
“What? Gula?”
“A notice was posted. One gold coin per three bundles.”
“Isn’t that wasting money?”
“They won’t even explain the reason!”
Though bewildered, they thoroughly fulfilled what I desired. They roamed the mountains and fields, gathering the gula they had previously trampled underfoot into sacks and bringing them to my residence. Day after day, the gula seeds piling up in the warehouse grew so high they nearly touched the ceiling.
“How many bundles is it today?”
“Forty-nine bundles, sir.”
“The pace is faster than expected.”
I surveyed it with satisfaction and moved forward. In the restricted garden behind, gula cultivation research was in full progress. They say it grows well in all harsh environments except cold, but surely there must be optimal cultivation methods nonetheless.
Since I had never personally cultivated it before, research was my only option.
“There’s almost no difference in growth speed between the plants given abundant water and those given little. We should probably try varying the soil composition.”
“Then we’ll need to bring some soil from the riverbank over there.”
“Ian! Look at this. Sprouts have already appeared!”
Hena and Romandro’s subordinates, covered in dirt, rose to their feet upon seeing me. They were remarkably small—barely the size of a fingernail. I smiled warmly and patted Hena’s shoulder.
“Well done. You’ve worked hard.”
“By the way, Romandro has been eating gula again. Ian, could you say something to him?”
“Again? I explained this clearly yesterday.”
“I suppose he thought no one would notice.”
Ever since that day, Romandro had been eating gula at every meal without restraint. It had reached the point where I felt compelled to urge him to exercise some moderation. Since a single seed spawned over ten additional gula… I might as well have told him to eat meat instead.
“Understood. I’ll speak with him again.”
With that, I left the garden. My intention was to cultivate as much gula as possible to face the coming winter. It would likely be the most abundant year-end the people of Bratz’s domain had ever experienced.
“What are you thinking about?”
Berik, who had been following behind, stepped ahead and asked me. Before I could answer, he snapped his fingers and answered his own question.
“Let me guess—you were thinking about the old man, weren’t you? He’s been unusually quiet, like a dead mouse. It’s strange.”
“Ah, yes. You’re right.”
I briefly wondered who exactly Berik meant by “the old man,” but soon realized he was referring to Mollin.
“He hasn’t come out?”
“His two subordinates wander about here and there, but it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen the old man’s face. Though they say he eats well enough.”
I had attached a mana stone brooch to their room’s bed. I had intended to retrieve it during cleaning, but since they never left the room, I kept putting it off. Now it was time to retrieve it directly.
“Inform Romandro that we should all dine together today.”
“All together? What if he refuses?”
“Add that it’s mandatory as we’ll be holding a meeting as well. In the meantime, I’ll retrieve the mana stone.”
Berik nodded and stepped back.
They may have heard rumors about the gula. Even if they knew, I needed to formally present my plans to the imperial messengers—specifically, to Mollin’s group. It seemed both Romandro and Mollin were each writing their own reports.
Knock, knock.
“Ian, I’m entering.”
“Come in, Ian.”
Since it was just before lunch, everyone gathered quickly. Unlike Romandro, who rose lightly from his seat to greet me, Mollin’s group held their heads stiffly with evident displeasure.
“The weather is lovely today.”
“What is this about?”
“It’s simply that it’s been a while since I’ve seen our guests’ faces. I wanted to hear if you’re comfortable, and there are also matters I wish to discuss.”
By referring to Mollin’s group as “guests,” I made our respective positions clear. This was my space.
Mac muttered sarcastically.
“You seemed busy. How impressive.”
“Ah, did Romandro mention it to you?”
At my question, Mac and Dgor’s expressions crumpled. If Romandro considered them equal colleagues, he would naturally have shared the discovery of gula.
But they, like unwelcome intruders, had heard nothing. I had imposed silence on the household members, not on Romandro.
“Ahem. Not yet.”
“I see. My apologies.”
Romandro winked with his left eye and let out an embarrassed cough. Just as Mac was about to say something, the dining room door opened and food was brought in.
“Since Mollin must also submit a report to the capital, I intend to inform you. It’s nothing grandiose, but we’ve discovered a new crop to sustain us through winter.”
Berik, listening from the corner, nearly laughed to himself at the word “grandiose.” He could clearly picture Romandro chattering away with the others about Bariel’s great famine. While I spoke with the three men, he gestured to the servants.
“A crop? Surely you don’t mean that’s gula?”
“As expected, you were aware of it.”
“Of course. How could I not know? The rumors about buying that rare plant for gold at my estate have spread far and wide. If people from Merelrof have come to hear of it, even the deaf in Bratz would know.”
Mac raised his voice as if somewhat excited. But when Mollin cast a sidelong glance signaling restraint, he clamped his lips shut and fell silent.
“Then, do you know?”
It was Dgor who interjected instead of Mac. His tone was deliberately low and composed, yet he couldn’t entirely conceal his hostility.
“Know what?”
“What people in Bratz are saying about why we’re buying the plant for gold.”
“How curious. What are they saying?”
“They say Ian is draining his coffers to sell his territory to the Cheonryeo Tribe.”
“Interesting. Quite creative.”
I chuckled lightly. The rumor wasn’t entirely without merit. If the Advisor and the imperial palace’s influence were pushed back and Bratz collapsed, the Cheonryeo Tribe would reap the greatest benefit.
“But if I intended to take over Bratz in such a manner, I would have revealed my true intentions the moment you arrived. Why would I allow food to be wasted?”
“What? Wasted?”
“Mac. Lower your voice.”
“And I wouldn’t have worked so hard on reconstruction either. Whoever is spreading such baseless rumors should know they will face severe punishment for insulting our allies and myself.”
I fixed my gaze on Mac and Dgor. The territory’s people, busy with mere survival, might harbor doubts, but they wouldn’t hold resentment. After all, the Cheonryeo Tribe and I were held in considerable favor, and more importantly, the people’s fate didn’t depend solely on the territory’s prosperity.
What changed when Der died?
It was clear that Mac and Dgor were the ones spreading these rumors. At my warning, Mollin, who had been silent, finally spoke.
“…Do you not understand how people perceive gula?”
It was a toxic plant, so it was pulled out wherever it appeared in residential areas. Perhaps because of this, in the city, gula could only be seen in places where filth accumulated or in sewers and other places untouched by human hands.
“I am well aware, but since Romandro enjoys it, everyone would surely appreciate it.”
Then I added a smile tinged with slight regret.
“But Mollin, don’t you remember? We discussed this matter before.”

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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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