Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 59

As the Emperor aged, he developed a craving for things that were fresh and vibrant. The remodeling of his bedroom was a reflection of this. He had one wall replaced with glass, allowing him to gaze upon the evergreen garden year-round. Sometimes, he would sit so still that one might think he was dead, a feeling Marib experienced now.

“Father?”

The Emperor smiled, turning his head at his son’s voice. His deep wrinkles were etched with kindness.

“Did you call for me?”

“Yes, Marib. You seem very busy these days.”

“It’s always like this. It’s summer, after all.”

Marib answered, settling naturally in front of the Emperor. It was a private space, and a private call. Marib studied his father’s complexion and asked,

“Is something the matter?”

“…No. It’s just that it feels like it’s been too long since I’ve seen your face.”

“That’s nothing new.”

“Marib.”

“Yes, Father.”

“Is there something going on with Gail?”

It was a well-known secret that the Emperor favored Gail. Marib was aware of this, but the Emperor never mentioned Gail’s name in front of him. It was his way of managing things for the sake of succession and his children.

“No, there isn’t. Why do you ask?”

“…I had a dream yesterday. Carolina appeared.”

Unlike Marib, the legitimate son of the Queen, Gail was the son of the first concubine. She was from a relatively unknown noble family and was considered a woman who had risen as high as she could through her beauty alone.

“Someone who never appears in my dreams, suddenly comes and….”

The Emperor’s voice was filled with emotion. Marib sighed inwardly. If he had known it would be like this, he wouldn’t have come, using work as an excuse. He turned his gaze away, trying to hide his expression.

A single peach tree stood alone.

“She handed me a peach. And she was crying, asking me to call for Gail.”

“Father.”

“If there’s no problem, then that’s that.”

The Emperor patted Marib’s hand and unilaterally ended the conversation. Even with a kind smile, the Emperor’s arrogant way of communicating remained unchanged. Marib nodded and left his father’s bedroom.

Squeak.

“Your Highness Marib?”

When Marib, who had come out of the door, didn’t move, his aide called him with a puzzled look. The prince approached the servants standing in a row.

“Is there no problem with the management of His Majesty’s bedroom?”

“Yes? Yes, yes, that’s right, Your Highness Prince Marib.”

“Then how is it that my father’s dreams are so ominous?”

“Pardon?”

The servant seemed to be hearing it for the first time. The moment he was about to raise his head and ask again, Marib slapped him on the cheek in an instant.

Slap!

“If I hear such words again, I will cut off the heads of everyone in charge.”

“I, I will keep that in mind.”

The father and son might not realize it, but they were like two peas in a pod. Warm like spring, yet suddenly sending out a chill without warning. The servants breathed a sigh of relief after confirming that Marib’s shadow had disappeared.

“Is today’s schedule all finished?”

“Yes, Your Highness. But it seems you should go to your office, not your bedroom.”

‘The schedule is all finished?’

When Marib frowned, the aide quickly added,

“A messenger bird has arrived from Romandro.”

“I’ll check it tomorrow. I’m a bit tired today.”

“But the report is quite shocking….”

He knew how his superior felt after being tormented by the Emperor. But there was Molin mixed in with the group that went together. It meant that Gail would also find out, not just Marib.

“Briefly.”

It was an answer that he would listen and decide. The aide summarized the report briefly and concisely, as his superior wanted.

“Ian, the illegitimate son of Derga, has rebuilt and taken control of Bratz with the Cheonryeo tribe. Commander Erica has left the territory.”

“…What?”

“And he’s a magic user.”

Marib stopped walking and turned to look at his aide. Then the aide asserted his innocence with his expression, saying that it was a report without a single lie.

“It’s a mess.”

“Indeed.”

“I’m going to the office.”

“Yes. I’ll prepare.”

Marib gritted his teeth and tied his hair up in a bun. It was a night with a full moon.

* * *

The day after the full moon.

In the back alleys of the Mereloff territory’s tavern, it wasn’t hard to come across strange information.

“What? They’re giving money for Gula in Bratz?”

“Ah, be quiet! Someone might hear.”

“No, but why? What are they going to use weeds for?”

“How would I know? Those barbarians, I can’t understand them at all. Logan from the red brick house took six sacks and got two gold coins.”

“There’s a time limit. But the nearby forests are already cleared out. You’ll have to go deep to pick Gula.”

“Goodness. I’ve never heard of anyone buying weeds with money. They’re crazy.”

“Who cares? Isn’t it good for us? My wife has been nagging me to eat meat lately.”

Who would pick Gula? Everyone was whispering, but there was no one among the lower class of Mereloff who didn’t know about it. It was the same for the people of the Bratz territory.

“What? Gula?”

“There’s a notice posted. One gold coin for three sacks.”

“Aren’t they wasting money?”

“They didn’t even say why!”

They were puzzled, but they certainly fulfilled what Ian wanted. They roamed the mountains and fields, filling sacks with Gula that they usually stepped on, and took them to the mansion. Day after day, the Gula seeds piled up in the warehouse, almost reaching the ceiling.

“How many sacks is it today?”

“Forty-nine sacks.”

“The speed is faster than I thought.”

Ian looked at it with satisfaction and moved his feet. In the back, in the restricted garden, research on Gula cultivation was in full swing. It was said to grow well in all harsh environments except for the cold, but there had to be the best way to cultivate it.

Ian had never grown it himself, so he had no choice but to do research.

“There’s almost no difference in growth speed between giving a lot of water and not. I think we should try different soil.”

“Then we should bring some soil from the riverbank over there.”

“Ian! Look at this. It’s already sprouted.”

Hanna and Romandro’s subordinates, covered in dirt, stood up when they saw Ian. It was very small, about the size of a fingertip. Ian smiled and patted Hanna on the shoulder.

“Good job. You’ve worked hard.”

“Oh, and Romandro ate Gula again earlier. Ian, please say something to him.”

“Again? I told him yesterday.”

“I guess he thought no one would see him.”

Since that day, Romandro had been eating Gula without regard for meals. Ian had even gone so far as to tell him to refrain from eating it. One seed produced more than ten other Gula… It was to the point where he would rather have him eat meat.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him again.”

Ian said that and left the garden. He was planning to grow as much Gula as possible to prepare for winter. It would probably be the most abundant end of the year in the lives of the people of Bratz.

“What are you thinking about?”

Beric, who had been following behind, walked ahead and asked Ian. Before he could answer, Beric snapped his fingers and answered himself.

“Shall I guess? You were thinking about the old man, weren’t you? You’re suddenly as quiet as a mouse. It’s strangely so.”

“Ah, yes. That’s right.”

Ian wondered for a moment who the old man was, but soon realized that he meant Molin.

“He’s not coming out?”

“His two subordinates are running around, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen the old man’s face. I heard he’s eating well.”

They had put a magic stone brooch on the bed in their room. He was planning to take it while cleaning, but he had been putting it off because they hadn’t left the room. It was time to collect it himself.

“Tell Romandro to have everyone eat together today.”

“Everyone? What if they refuse?”

“Add that it’s a meeting, so it’s mandatory. And I’ll find the magic stone in the meantime.”

Beric nodded and stepped back.

They might have heard the rumors about Gula. Even if they knew, Ian needed to officially inform the imperial envoys, specifically Molin’s group, of his plan. It seemed that Romandro was writing his report, and Molin was writing his own.

Knock knock.

“Ian is entering.”

“Welcome, Ian.”

It was just before lunchtime, so it didn’t take long for everyone to gather. Unlike Romandro, who was sitting and lightly stood up to greet him, Molin’s group was holding their heads high, as if they were quite displeased.

“The sun is nice today.”

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing. It’s just that it’s been a while since I’ve seen the guests’ faces. I wanted to hear if there were any inconveniences, and I also have something to say.”

Ian clearly stated their positions by calling Molin’s group ‘guests.’ This was Ian’s space.

Mac muttered sarcastically.

“You seemed busy. Sure.”

“Ah. Did you hear from Romandro?”

At Ian’s question, Mac and Degore’s expressions crumpled. If Romandro thought of them as equal colleagues, he would have shared the discovery of Gula.

But they couldn’t hear anything, as if they were uninvited guests. Ian had ordered the mansion staff to keep quiet, but not Romandro.

“Ahem. Not yet.”

“Oh. My apologies.”

Romandro winked his left eye and coughed awkwardly. The moment Mac was about to say something, the dining room door opened and the food came in.

“Since Lord Molin also has to submit a report to the center, I will tell you. It’s nothing grand. I’ve discovered a new crop to get through the winter.”

‘It’s nothing grand,’ Beric, who was listening from the corner, chuckled inwardly. He had clearly seen him talking with Romandro about the great famine of Bariel. He gestured to the servants while Ian was talking to the three men.

“A crop? Don’t tell me it’s Gula?”

“So you knew.”

“Of course. How could we not? The rumor that the mansion is buying the world’s most useless weed is spreading. People are even coming from Mereloff, so even the deaf in Bratz would know.”

Mac raised his voice as if he was a little excited. But when Molin glanced at him and signaled him to restrain himself, he closed his mouth tightly.

“Then, do you know?”

It was Degore who intervened instead of Mac. He was calm and low, but he couldn’t completely hide his hostility.

“Know what?”

“About why Bratz is buying weeds with money, and what people are saying.”

“I’m curious. What are they saying?”

“They say that Ian is trying to sell the territory to the Cheonryeo tribe by squandering the aid money.”

“Oh. That’s novel.”

Ian laughed lightly. It wasn’t entirely unreasonable. If the influence of the imperial court, including the advisor, was pushed out, and Bratz collapsed, the Cheonryeo tribe would gain the biggest benefit.

“But if I was planning to take Bratz like that, I would have shown my intentions as soon as you arrived. Why would I let you waste food?”

“What? Waste?”

“Mac. Lower your voice.”

“And I wouldn’t have worked so hard to rebuild it. Whoever is spreading such rumors, tell them that they will be severely punished for insulting our allies and me.”

Ian stared at Mac and Degore. The people of the territory, who were busy trying to make a living, might have questions, but they wouldn’t have any animosity. First of all, the perception of the Cheonryeo tribe and Ian was quite good, and more than anything, they wouldn’t be ruined just because the territory was ruined.

What changed because Derga died?

It was clear that Mac and Degore were spreading the rumors. At Ian’s warning, Molin, who had been silent, opened his mouth.

“…You. Do you not know what the perception of Gula is?”

It was a plant that people in the villages would pull out as soon as they saw it because it was poisonous. Was that why? In the city, Gula could only be seen where there was garbage or in places untouched by people, such as sewers.

“I know it well, but Lord Romandro enjoys it, so everyone else will like it too.”

Then he added a slightly regretful smile.

“But, Lord Molin. Don’t you remember? We talked about this issue before.”