Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 93

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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 93. The Next Lord
I pushed Berik’s sword flat with the edge of my hand in exasperation. How could a man who’d gotten a hole punched in his belly fighting a single knight in the Great Desert have the audacity to face three opponents at once?
The knights glared as if they’d seen every madness under the sun, but since I stood firm, they seemed willing to hold back for now.
“Stop spouting nonsense and fetch Romandro.”
“Ah, that’s what you meant? My apologies.”
There wasn’t a shred of genuine remorse in his tone, though at least he’d said the words. I signaled the Countess with a glance.
“All of you, leave. Either help this fool fetch the Advisor, or get to your duties. Stop standing here making a racket.”
….
The knights judged there was nothing more to gain by staying and filed out obediently. As the butler caught between them glanced about uncertainly, the Countess withdrew a fresh cigarette and issued her orders.
“Butler, go brew some tea. We have a guest, and even if things are chaotic, we must maintain propriety.”
“Very good, madam.”
One of the knights remained standing in the corridor with his arms crossed, keeping his head held high even as the door closed—a clear display of intent to semi-forcibly confine the Countess.
Creak.
As the door shut completely, she exhaled smoke with a vacant stare. Then she murmured, looking at me.
“I can’t seem to gather my wits.”
“Compose yourself by force if necessary. We must solidify your claim to the territory before those knights do something foolish. Have you informed the Count’s brother of the truth?”
“Not yet.”
“Then you should tell him quickly. Don’t those knights hold military command over Merelrof’s forces?”
Unlike Bratz, Merelrof required no vast army. The estate operated on a system of private soldiers centered around a handful of guards deployable from the manor and three knights. That alone was sufficient to maintain stable control of the territory, for there were no threats as formidable as the Cheonryeo Tribe.
“Probably? I suppose so?”
“Hearing your answer, I now understand why they’re acting this way. If you don’t hurry, you may end up like the Count.”
I tilted my head toward the bedroom where the corpse lay. Wasn’t now the perfect time to erase Merelrof’s bloodline entirely and write a new history?
“If I end up that way, wouldn’t Count Ian also be troubled?”
“Troubled, perhaps, but merely inconvenienced. Not fatally so, unlike your situation.”
Tiresome, wasn’t it? That the imperial palace had taken notice of Merelrof this time. But by then, I would be at the capital, and besides, I had genuinely had no hand in this affair.
‘The Countess could attempt blackmail, but….’
For instance, threatening to falsely confess a negative relationship with me if I didn’t help her now—dragging me into the mud along with her.
“Is that so? I suppose.”
Yet the Countess didn’t seem inclined toward such tactics. The shock from last night had been too great, or perhaps, desiring only freedom as she did, she had no wish to escalate matters.
‘Or perhaps she was shrewd.’
She calculated that provoking me now would leave her with nothing to show for it. Better to ask for help. Instead, she sat there drained of all vigor, merely chewing her cigarette.
“Countess, have the butler secure the office seal before Romandro arrives. Whoever holds it is the estate’s representative.”
“Ah, that.”
“And proceed with matters in their natural order. Should the knights betray you, we’ll provide military support from our side.”
Berik was here, and warriors who hadn’t yet returned to Cheonrye remained. They could easily suppress three knights and their soldiers.
“What do you want in return?”
The Countess laughed, blinking only her eyes. She’d grasped early on that kindness without price didn’t exist. At her words, I merely shrugged.
“Nothing comes to mind immediately. A donation?”
“That’s manageable then. But I’d prefer something other than money. Those knights can propose monetary terms easily enough.”
Bonds forged in gold dissolved just as easily in gold. The Countess sought a contract only she could offer.
“There isn’t much I can offer you. You arrived at the estate with nothing but the clothes on your back.”
The Countess moved to her vanity. With a delicate gesture, a drawer slid open, and what she retrieved was a ring crafted by the mysterious alchemist. The same as Count Ian’s necklace.
“You said you had many questions, didn’t you? Perhaps you know—this ring and Count Ian’s might have been made on the same day by the same hand.”
Considering the timing and the distance between the two territories, it was quite possible they came from the same merchant house and the same alchemist. I stroked my chin before responding.
“I would gladly accept a ring, but as for that beside it… I’m less certain.”
A new type of sleeping anesthetic allegedly smuggled from the Hawan Kingdom. The small, round black container was cleaned as meticulously as before. The Countess merely shrugged her shoulders, indicating the choice was mine to make.
“If you don’t want it, so be it. I’ve simply offered the most valuable thing I possess. The decision is yours, Count Ian.”
As I hesitated, Berik, standing behind me, took both items without a second thought as if there was nothing to deliberate over.
“She’s offering them—why wouldn’t you take them?”
“Berik. Haven’t we left yet?”
“We’re going, but… wait, why won’t this come off?”
“That’s quite something. Really.”
He’d thoughtlessly slipped his index finger into the ring, and it seemed to have fit properly. When I gave him a look of exasperation, he merely laughed nervously.
“…Would oil work?”
“Cutting off your finger would be faster. Countess, might I borrow a knife?”
“…I’ll fetch Romandro at once, sir. Please wait.”
At my jest, Berik scrambled away from his seat. Even as he did, he didn’t forget to pocket the small container.
“Use the container after refilling it. These days men do use cosmetics, but it’s still unfamiliar in many circles.”
“Where would I even use such a thing?”
“You’ll be heading to the capital soon, won’t you? I’ve only heard rumors, but a place like that would have plenty of uses for it, I’d imagine.”
I wasn’t sure where she’d heard it, but it was remarkably accurate. As the heart of Variel, it was ornate, dizzying, and suffused with a lethal tension. Most of those standing at the center of the power struggle surely spent their nights with eyes wide open.
Whether from administrative duties or from the fear of death.
“The lethal dose is two grams or more per day, taken continuously for a month. As long as you observe that, there’s no problem.”
“The side effects would manifest years later, not after a month. But are you certain about this? No matter how I think about it, I can’t understand how Berik collapsed from merely smelling it.”
“I wouldn’t know about that. It caused me no problems. Perhaps your subordinate has an unusual constitution.”
The Countess spoke with an expression of absolute sincerity. Well, considering the man walks around perfectly fine even with a hole through his abdomen, he certainly didn’t have a normal constitution.
I turned my head to look behind me. The doctor was putting away his examination instruments.
“Truth be told, more than these trifles, the tribute is what matters most.”
“I could sell the jewels to raise it. But I’m not sure if there’s a jeweler nearby who would accept them. I think I’d need to go as far as Sheiron to convert them to cash.”
It seemed that in Merelrof, only the head of the household held authority over finances. At least in Bratz, Mrs. Mary had managed the estate’s affairs, but the Count with his jealous nature surely wouldn’t have shared power with his wife.
“In any case, hasten your efforts. Moving first, before the knights act, is our best course.”
“…What about Clark?”
As I moved to leave the room, the Countess stopped me and asked. Her expression was calm and dull, yet her voice carried an unexpected moisture. The more I saw of her, the more peculiar and strange she seemed.
“What will become of Clark?”
“What do you mean, what will become of him? Execution, without exception.”
Like Der, execution by the imperial palace based on law was the only way a noble could be killed—it could only happen on the battlefield otherwise. That’s how grave a crime it was to kill a noble, and when the perpetrator was a slave, there wasn’t even a trial to be held.
“I was surprised that Clark is still alive. The fact that the knights haven’t carried out summary judgment suggests they have other intentions.”
“…Is there truly no exception?”
“A slave killing a noble and surviving? It’s possible, but I’ve never heard of it. Ah, though I’ve heard there’s a foreign king who was born a slave…”
I paused for a moment. To verify whether the history I remembered was unfolding now. Counting through the years, the timing seemed to align roughly.
“I hear the first person he killed was a nobleman—his own master. If Clark were to become king, he might have a chance at survival.”
The Countess tapped her fingernails thoughtfully against the armrest, as if lost in contemplation. It seemed she desperately wanted to save Clark’s life, at least.
“Can you help us?”
“Countess, I’m afraid I must depart for the capital soon. I cannot afford to become entangled in further complications.”
“I think Count Ian would be capable of it.”
“How could I possibly save a slave who murdered a nobleman?”
“But you already have. You rose from commoner stock, crossed borders to survive, and became a family head.”
I frowned. The conversation seemed to be drifting in different directions—she murmuring her thoughts, I answering mine, as if we were speaking past each other.
“Countess.”
“I shall become the lord.”
“Pardon?”
“Is that not possible?”
Her confident question gave me pause.
“…There is no law that only men may become lords. But Countess, you are not of Merelrof blood, are you? If there were at least a son, it would be different, but with the Count dead, you are an outsider to House Merelrof.”
And that was not all.
The Count’s brother—the only one holding the balance between support and opposition—would never consent. So to become lord…
“The only way would be to change the house that rules these lands.”
To erase the Merelrof name, just as with Bratz. No different from what the knights intended. The Countess sank back into her chair as if lost in thought, gazing only out the window.
“If I became lord, became family head, I could never leave this place, could I?”
One might absent oneself, but the essence remained—becoming bound to a single location. There would be no improvement from the circumstances Lady Lien had so desperately wished to escape.
‘No, that’s not quite right. Without the Count, things would at least be better.’
Freedom and love.
I could sense the two concerns tangled in confusion within her mind. Truthfully, it would be more advantageous for me if the Countess became lord rather than a brother I’d never met. We had some history, I knew her secrets, and she showed no ambition for territorial expansion.
If the knights or the Count’s brother became lord, who knew what they might do while I was away in the capital?
‘Still, with the Count’s brother present, moving too hastily could only complicate my position.’
It was a matter of reading the situation carefully.
If I absorbed Merelrof here, it might give Gail grounds to intervene again, citing the excessive expansion of power on the border. But conversely, it could also firmly establish my value to Marib.
‘First, I should meet the Count’s brother.’
I adjusted my outer coat and turned back to the Countess. She still seemed lost in her own thoughts.
“I shall inform the Count’s brother of the situation. He lives in a manor on the outskirts of town, I believe—what is his name?”
“Dive Merelrof.”
“I’ll return shortly.”
I checked my pocket watch as I spoke. If I hurried, I could be back before Berik brought Romandro.

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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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