Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 6

‘Ian, you need to focus.’

Ian turned his head at the tutor’s words.

The guest room in the west annex. Unlike before, a clear breeze flowed in through the windows open on all sides. The tutor sighed and scribbled with his pen, observing his student’s listless appearance.

‘Okay. Let’s try again. Suppose 100 serfs paid five sacks of wheat as tax. If half of that is sent to the capital, and then half of what’s left is distributed to the mansion’s servants, how many sacks are left in the end?’

Ian yawned lightly and turned his gaze away. The couple of hours of study time in the afternoon were truly unbearable.

‘I don’t know.’

He pretended to calculate by counting on his fingers at first, thinking it would look strange if he changed his mind right away.

But doing that once or twice was enough; continuing was quite bothersome. Ian changed his mind and pretended not to know at all.

‘At least try to calculate it.’

‘Hmm. Wouldn’t it be 100 sacks?’

Moreover, there were unexpected benefits from using his status as a dull illegitimate child. The tutor and the butler often exchanged written notes about Ian’s education.

Most of it was trivial, but sometimes they leaked information about the Count’s work.

‘…Let’s stop with math here. Next is literature. We read last time, right?’

The tutor was not enthusiastic. Whether Ian understood or not, he diligently carried out his assigned tasks and collected his salary.

It was fortunate for Ian. When he said he didn’t know, the tutor gave up easily, so there was no need to pretend to struggle with studying.

Knock knock.

‘Come in.’

‘Excuse me.’

The butler came in with snacks. The fact that the butler, not a servant, brought them himself was likely intended to observe the child’s learning attitude.

‘How far have you progressed?’

‘We are about to finish with literature.’

‘I see. It seems like it’s ending early today.’

‘It’s because Ian is following along so well.’

How absurd. What a joke.

Ian crunched on the snacks, looking down at the book that was half pictures. The butler showed his palm to the tutor and quickly wrote something down. It was not visible from Ian’s position.

‘Then, please continue your work.’

‘Yes, Butler.’

Tap.

The tutor read out a few letters, wrote them on parchment, and had Ian copy them.

That’s how the tedious afternoon study time ended. When the clock on the wall rang, the tutor gathered his books and stood up.

‘I’ll see you out, teacher.’

‘No. It’s alright. I’m busy today. Ian, please continue your calligraphy practice.’

He usually saw the tutor off, learning about walking, greetings, or social etiquette.

But on days like today when he refused, it meant he was going to meet someone in the house.

‘Yes. Then, I’ll see you next time.’

Ian nodded without any particular retort.

The tutor, wearing his coat, smiled and left the room.

‘Is he going to meet the butler?’

Sometimes it seemed like he was seeing the Count or the Countess. But since there were many attendants loitering around after he moved to the annex, he couldn’t follow him.

Giving up on that, Ian roughly cleared away the parchment and lightly stretched his body. The good thing about the room being bigger was that he could train his body without going outside.

‘Physical strength is magic power.’

He would build physical strength with magic power, and then use that physical strength to contain magic power again. That was why the sages called great mages remained vigorous even in their old age.

‘Ian.’

Knock knock.

And that night.

The butler called Ian after he had finished dinner.

‘The Count wants you to come to his office.’

The time had finally come.

* * *

Derga’s office was on the top floor of the mansion, and since he used the entire floor, Ian had never walked down that hallway. Ian was puzzled but followed the butler calmly.

‘Count, young master Ian has arrived.’

After knocking on the thick door handle a few times, permission was granted from inside.

‘Come in.’

Creak.

Unlike Ian’s old room, which had only one glowstone, the office was as bright as day. This was because magic lanterns were densely placed everywhere.

Nevertheless, the gloomy atmosphere was probably due to the presence of Count Derga.

‘Did you call for me?’

Ian asked politely, but Derga didn’t answer. Compared to the commoners who plowed the fields day and night, it was a truly carefree work environment, but the Count was probably busy in his own way.

‘…You know there’s a luncheon the day after tomorrow, right?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Derga muttered without taking his eyes off the documents.

‘It seems that this time, other aides from the central government will also be accompanying them.’

The first meal must have been quite impressive. It seemed that they were intrigued that a child from a rural border region, and an illegitimate child at that, was discussing the philosophy of Pöllen.

‘You’ll have to be more alert than last time.’

‘I will keep that in mind.’

Was he calling him just to check on this?

Derga hadn’t said anything when he changed rooms. Ian waited patiently for the rest of his words. The sound of the pen nib scratching on the parchment continued, and the Count opened his mouth again, which he had closed heavily.

‘The Cheonryeo tribe has requested a handwritten letter from you.’

Ian also knew that they had offered to send Derga’s second son as a condition for peace.

They had also enclosed a potion that only reacted to family members, so there was no need to mention anything about blood ties.

Of course, they didn’t know that he was an illegitimate child from a commoner. Anyway.

‘My handwritten letter?’

They seemed to want a security measure of their own.

What if Derga, out of pity for his son, tried to switch him out at the last minute? Since the Cheonryeo tribe valued family ties, there was enough room to think that way.

‘Like barbarians, they create troublesome things. Tsk tsk. They’ll use the family potion again at the treaty ceremony.’

Unlike the Bariel Empire, the Cheonryeo tribe did not have separate mages. They were beings no different from beasts, whose very bloodline defied nature.

‘Well, I have no reason to refuse.’

They would receive the handwritten letter and later compare the handwriting. To confirm that Ian was Derga’s illegitimate child and the person they had marked.

‘I will have you write and send letters periodically. I’ll tell the tutor, so you just have to copy it. Surely you’re not such an idiot that you can’t even do that.’

‘I will do it without fail.’

Creak.

At that moment, a small door attached to the office opened. An office worker with a pale face came to find Derga.

‘Count, no matter what I do, the calculations don’t add up.’

He was carrying a huge stack of documents that were precariously piled up. The Count waved his hand at the sight of him looking like he would collapse at any moment.

‘That’s enough. I’ll take care of it.’

He gave Ian a look that meant to wait for a moment.

The documents he had been working on were still spread out on the desk, but the Count didn’t seem to be on guard. Ian was close to illiterate, and even if he could read, he was only at the level of stringing syllables together.

‘Wait here.’

Derga ordered as he entered the office worker’s office. Ian, who had smiled politely to show that he understood, changed his expression in an instant.

‘Let’s see. What’s so busy.’

It was early spring now. Diligent heads of households would take care of their territories even when the ground was frozen, but no matter how he looked at it, Derga was not that kind of person. He had enjoyed going to the back alleys until the day he met Molin, hadn’t he?

Rustle.

Ian quickly scanned the documents. His skill in scattering the papers so that the order wouldn’t be mixed up was very smooth.

‘Hmm?’

Ian frowned as if he had expected it.

As he had guessed, Derga had far more soldiers than he could handle.

Considering the size of the Bratz border region, it should be no more than 300 at most to run smoothly. But based on the numbers for military food expenditures, it was possible to have 2,000 to 3,000.

‘It’s a wonder they haven’t gone bankrupt.’

Moreover, the taxes imposed on the serfs were more than double the recommended rate in the capital. In history, the Cheonryeo tribe destroying Bratz might have been a natural course of events.

A precarious situation that would naturally collapse if left alone. Ian stared at the small office in disbelief.

What on earth was in that man’s head that he managed the territory like this? He was not just some random person, but a family that had been around for several generations.

‘Is there another source of income?’

He didn’t know how long he had been managing like this, but it seemed quite tight to cover everything with taxes alone.

‘There shouldn’t be anything on the Bratz side.’

As he had pointed out, the Bratz territory was adjacent to the Cheonryeo tribe’s land outside the border. The land was not fertile, nor was there a sea. There were no important resources that he could remember.

‘If there were, the previous generation wouldn’t have divided the territory among other nobles.’

The previous emperor had cut and granted territories to the nobles who had fought against the Cheonryeo tribe together. If there were important resources, the imperial palace would have done so.

Click.

At that moment, the door opened without warning.

Ian, who had been leaning on the Count’s desk, instinctively held his breath and released his magic power.

Buzz. Buzz.

‘Hmm?’

At the same time, all the lanterns in the room went out.

The same was true for the office worker’s office.

Since the moon was hidden behind the clouds, the surroundings were instantly plunged into darkness.

‘Count? Are you alright?’

‘It hasn’t been long since we changed the magic lanterns?’

‘Just a moment. I’ll light a candle, ugh!’

Thud!

The office worker bumped into something.

Before the moon came out, Ian quietly moved to the center of the room, hiding his presence. Derga groped around, trying to find his desk.

‘Ian, answer me.’

‘Yes, Father.’

Ian’s voice rang out clearly in the darkness. Judging by the sound, he seemed to be standing near the sofa.

‘Is there anyone outside?!’

The office worker, who was supposed to be finding a candle, kept falling over, and the darkness didn’t seem to be going away. Derga shouted in frustration.

Buzz. Buzz.

Then, the lanterns lit up again. Ian, having caught his breath, had withdrawn his magic power.

Derga met Ian’s eyes as he stood calmly. His absinthe-colored eyes were shining brightly.

‘Are you alright?’

‘……’

The Count looked down at his hand, which was resting on the desk. The documents were a bit scattered, but it was something he could attribute to himself in the dark. He opened the drawer without suspicion.

‘That’s enough. Come here and take this.’

‘What is it?’

It was a small pouch that had been hand-embroidered. Derga threw it lightly as if it were nothing special, and it landed right at Ian’s feet.

‘It’s from your mother.’

A small pouch lying on the floor.

Ian slowly picked it up.

‘Always look at that and remember your place and be mindful of your actions.’

When the news of Ian that she had been hearing through Hanna suddenly stopped, his mother had attempted suicide. If she couldn’t meet him alive, she would meet him in death.

At that sudden action, the Count had no choice but to compromise by promising to send letters and gifts. If she died, it would be the same as removing Ian’s shackles.

‘……’

It was a fact that Hanna had told him everything that had happened through the coachman. Since he had always paid her generously for her errands, there would be no lies mixed in.

‘Get out now.’

Derga waved his hand.

Ian quietly left the office with the old pouch. Leaning against the dark hallway, he untied the string, and miscellaneous items spilled out.

Clang!

Five gold coins. Dried flowers. A very small note.

One gold coin was equivalent to what a commoner could earn in a month. Ian looked at the letter with a calm expression. The handwriting was neat, so it was clear that he had asked someone to write it for him.

Then, was it truly filled with only his mother’s sincerity from beginning to end?

‘No. There’s a possibility that Derga’s intentions are hidden. That he switched the letter…’

Ian fiddled with the gold coins and then began to read the letter.