Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 83

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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 83. Rediscovery
Several days later.
“Count Ian! Count Ian!”
I was reading a book in front of the fireplace when Hena’s voice called out. I turned my head at her summons and immediately noticed the letter she held in her hand.
The familiar design and seal. It was from Merelrof.
“Has Merelrof sent word again?”
“Yes, sir. This time they say a servant is waiting downstairs and requests an immediate reply.”
“It’s only been a week.”
Berik, who had been lounging against the backrest, suddenly sprang up. After all that commotion that day, he had returned to his daily routine as if nothing had happened. Fortunately, there were no aftereffects or unusual symptoms.
‘What in the world is his body made of, honestly.’
I glanced at Berik as I took the letter. Unaware of my gaze, he bounded over and came close to me.
“What are you doing? Read it quickly.”
“Very well. Don’t rush me.”
The seal was pressed into the wax. The handwriting was not the butler’s, but unfamiliar—meaning Marquis Merelrof had written it himself. Berik widened his eyes and thrust his head forward, but he could only discern that the yellow was paper and the black was writing.
“What does it say?”
“…He wishes to purchase additional Gula.”
“I knew it. How could one bundle satisfy anyone? And that was the smallest bundle too, wasn’t it?”
“Did the servant who delivered it say anything else?”
“It appears there was a theft at the estate, sir.”
“A theft?”
Of course, there had been an intrusion targeting Gula in Bratz as well. While it was certainly plausible, given what I had discussed with Countess Merelrof, I suspected it might have been her scheming after all.
“What about the servants who delivered the message?”
“They went to the kitchen asking about recipes.”
As Hena whispered her addition, Berik let out a scoff. When they had dismissed it as worthless weeds, and now they found themselves unable to obtain it. I folded the letter in half and placed it on the table.
“Very well. If they desire it, we shall provide it.”
“Shall I prepare bundles?”
“Yes. But this time, tell them one servant’s worth will not suffice. We will not sell for less than fifty gold coins per bundle. In return, assure them we will prioritize the finest specimens. Winter has arrived, after all, and we have our own constraints. Include that in your message.”
“Yes, Count Ian.”
“Draft the details in a letter and send it. Where is Romandro?”
“He went out this morning. He should return soon.”
I rummaged through the left drawer. It contained materials I had recorded while sharing information about Merelrof with Romandro previously.
‘What quantity did we decide on for the next transaction?’
Romandro, the reconstruction specialist, had made calculations. How much Gula would be necessary given the scale and overall circumstances of the Merelrof estate.
‘One hundred bundles would allow them to plant half and cultivate half, providing enough for comfortable consumption at the estate for a month. The planted half will also multiply sufficiently to distribute equally among the villagers within a month.’
‘Do you think anyone in Merelrof knows that Gula dies when exposed to snow?’
‘I doubt it. It’s unlikely, actually. After all, one must have interest in the matter first.’
Recalling Romandro’s words, I unfolded fresh paper. I drafted a transaction request for one hundred bundles at fifty gold coins per bundle, totaling five thousand gold coins.
“One hundred bundles—that’s quite a lot. When will you move them all?”
“Once this large transaction is completed, it will be the last. Merelrof will have developed the capability to cultivate and consume Gula independently. Of course, once this winter passes, Gula will be abundant throughout Variel.”
“So if this is the final transaction, shouldn’t we either increase the quantity or raise the price? We need to secure one or the other, right?”
“Exactly. And judging by Marquis Merelrof’s temperament, he’d psychologically prefer purchasing in bulk at a lower price point.”
Besides, Romandro’s calculations weren’t entirely nonsensical. The proposal had a reasonable foundation to it. If the Countess gently nudged him along, it didn’t seem particularly difficult to accomplish.
I carefully prepared the proposal and handed it to Hena.
“Here it is.”
“Yes, Count Ian. I’ll deliver it right away.”
“Oh, and give the servant some roasted gula to snack on during the journey.”
Few beyond the Merelrof couple and myself knew the taste of gula. Once someone had tasted the fruit, they’d inevitably crave more. Hena nodded at my words and asked a question.
“But sir, will you continue to forbid trading among the estate villagers?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s not a major issue, but the Merelrof villagers keep requesting sales, so our people find themselves in a difficult position quite often.”
Now that their bellies were full and they lived comfortably, they yearned to fill their pockets rather than just the storehouses. When money was being offered but they couldn’t sell, how frustrating that must be. Come spring, there would be countless places to spend coin.
“Hmm.”
I nodded in understanding. Once I properly concluded the contract with Marquis Merelrof, I could open up trading. After all, the ban on individual transactions was only meant for this moment.
If I timed it right, I could even deliver an even greater surprise to Marquis Merelrof.
“Or what if we only sold roasted gula?”
“Roasted gula?”
“Yes. If we roast the gula seeds before selling them, they can’t be cultivated, so they could only be used for consumption, couldn’t they?”
At Hena’s words, my eyes widened. I’d just found a crucial hint in what she said. I smiled and gently patted her shoulder.
“I understand. We’ll discuss this immediately when Romandro returns.”
“Yes. I’ll deliver the letter right away!”
As Hena left, Berik tilted his head and asked with a rather serious expression.
“But Ian.”
“What is it?”
“What if the Merelrof side complains that fifty measures is too much and brings soldiers? There’s no business before appetite, you know. If eyes blink once, it’s another battle?”
Berik’s eyes gleamed brightly as he spoke. It seemed he wanted another hole punched through his belly before his wounds even healed.
“You seem rather excited about that.”
“How could I be? I’m terrified! My heart’s pounding so hard. Or should I say it’s throbbing?”
Berik laughed quietly and inhaled deeply the smoke from the burnt herb leaves. He looked like a well-fed predator, back warmed and belly full.
“Beasts and humans differ in many ways, but they share common ground too. Do you know what the biggest one is?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Even when attacking an opponent, they instinctively know. ‘I shouldn’t go that far. I mustn’t cross that line.’ Life is precious to both humans and beasts alike.”
“Haha! That’s true! I’m holding firm right here, and they wouldn’t dare charge in. The Cheonrye soldiers remain, even if just a few. Ahahaha!”
Berik laughed uproariously, thinking I was praising him. He even kicked the cushion with his feet, looking quite pleased with himself. Since he seemed in good spirits, I wouldn’t correct him, but…
‘What I meant was the capital. The capital, Berik.’
What I meant to say precisely was the imperial palace.
A noble awaiting the Emperor and Advisor’s recognition to receive a surname. Attacking Bratz at such a timing would be perfect for misunderstanding. The misunderstanding that we were trying to eliminate the capital’s influence and absorb Bratz to increase our power in Merelrof.
‘If we touch them, we’ll give them the perfect excuse. We watched clearly how the Central Army descended and destroyed the Der and Bratz families, so they’ll consciously try to avoid that at all costs.’
Clack!
I closed the drawer with a sound and settled back into my seat, picking up a book. Likely a response would come tonight or by tomorrow at the latest. My guess was that Marquis Merelrof himself would move, not just a servant.
Knock knock.
“Ah! Count Ian, you’re back.”
“Welcome home. I heard you went out.”
“I was shopping for gifts to send to my wife and child.”
Romandro stepped inside with a cheerful laugh, his arms laden with packages. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him—ever since Berik’s prank that day had gone too far, he kept glancing nervously whenever we met.
“Romandro, I’m perfectly fine, I tell you.”
“Who said anything? You just always have that vacant stare.”
“What? Surely not. Ian, is my eye really like that?”
“It does seem a bit off sometimes.”
“Could it be that Marquis Merelrof’s temperamental nature isn’t also due to some drug?”
“That doesn’t seem to be the case. His wife was waiting for winter. It will likely begin soon.”
A hallucinogenic anesthetic that slowly infiltrates the body over a month, causing death by asphyxia. Romandro shook his head in genuine horror and muttered under his breath.
“Perhaps it’s because she’s from the borderlands—truly a bold woman.”
“It also suggests she was cornered that desperately.”
Berik examined Romandro’s purchases and asked a question.
“Does the Central Court not do such things?”
“The Central Court? They do far worse!”
“But what do you mean by ‘borderlands’?”
The Central Court, where more than half of all nobility gathered. Naturally, it was the heart of high society where all manner of sordid scandals erupted every other day. Romandro twirled his beard and hummed thoughtfully.
“Still, these days everyone seems to prefer doing such things in secret places—villas or masquerade balls. Prince Gail once…”
Gail. I hadn’t expected the Second Prince’s name to come from Romandro’s lips. When I urged him to continue, he laughed awkwardly.
“I flinched without meaning to. In the palace, we dare not even speak his name. Too many eyes and ears, and words get twisted so easily.”
“I understand.”
The palace was the fiercest battleground for factional strife in the world. As a subordinate of Prince Marib, the First Prince, Romandro couldn’t easily mention that name.
“Anyway, Prince Gail—when was it? Last year? He caused quite a bloodbath at the Duke’s nephew’s party.”
“A bloodbath?”
For a prince without heir status to maintain power, building connections with the nobility was paramount. Each one of them would become his strength. Yet despite this, he caused a disturbance at the Duke’s nephew’s party?
A man who would later harbor such ambitions as to stage a rebellion?
“He slaughtered all the slaves of those intoxicated on drugs, unable to distinguish reality.”
“Is that even possible?”
“It was possible. He did it. Don’t you know? You must have heard rumors, even in the borderlands?”
No matter how the world turned, there were always those who lived apart from it. That was how I lived back then. What did it matter if the Emperor changed? I was too busy trying to survive.
“Naturally, every house was in an uproar. After all, they were their property. Drugs are a crime, but everyone does it openly, and more importantly, if the imperial family acts that way toward the nobility, it’s tantamount to military intimidation.”
“How was it resolved?”
“Money.”
“Pardon?”
“He bought new slaves to replace all those he’d killed and sent them over.”
“That bastard’s insane.”
While Berik muttered in disgust, I was genuinely shocked and couldn’t find words. Romandro, noticing my meaning, let out a deep sigh and smiled faintly.
“I did serve at Prince Marib’s side for a time, but Prince Gail is no ordinary man either.”
Slaves were, after all, commodities to be bought and sold. As long as proper compensation was given, there would be no problem whatsoever—but the crux was that these slaves came from ‘Gail.’
“You’re truly remarkable in many ways.”
“In fact, from that point onward, Prince Gail’s faction grew considerably stronger. When rumors spread that Wesley, the head of the Magic Department, had provided the funds, his support base became even more solidified.”
“What? Why would that increase his forces? If it were me, I’d have called him insane and picked a fight right then and there.”
“Berik. Be grateful we’re in the borderlands. In the imperial palace, even portraits have ears.”
“So explain it to me then.”
As Berik scratched his ear, I swallowed a sigh and laid out the meaning for him. If I’m being honest, even I—who had once been Emperor—could fairly call it a “remarkably flawless political move.”

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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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