Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 90

The atmosphere was so cold, one might have wondered if this was how guests were usually treated. The butler, while pouring water into Ian’s glass, kept glancing at his master. Everyone in the Mereloff mansion was watching the Count’s mood, but Ian and Beric, the man he brought, showed no signs of discomfort.

“Wow. The smell is amazing,” Beric said, even sniffing the air, thoroughly enjoying the aroma of the meat. Count Mereloff asked with a touch of annoyance,

“Sir Ian, why did you bring that man?”

“You’ve seen him before, Count. He’s Beric, the one I rely on most these days. Since you invited me to dinner, I thought I’d introduce him.”

*I didn’t see anything about coming alone, so what’s the problem?* The Count’s irritation spiked at Ian’s seemingly oblivious, smiling demeanor. *If I had known, I would have told them to mix some spit in his soup.*

“Let’s eat.”

“Yes, Master.”

At the Count’s words, the butler began to serve the dishes in earnest. It was true that even if a rich family fell, their legacy lasted three generations; even though the territory itself was on the verge of collapse, the mansion’s affairs were still in order.

Ian smiled as he looked at the Gula dishes [a type of local cuisine].

“I’m glad you seem to have developed a taste for Gula.”

“Indeed. I admit it’s a delicacy. I heard you allowed the residents to trade Gula, Sir Ian. Does that mean even the lower classes will now know this taste?”

“Good things should be shared. There’s no need to thank me. Thanks to you, Count, I was able to secure some of the tribute money. Please accept it as a token of my gratitude.”

As soon as Ian took a sip of water, Beric, as if on cue, began to ‘devour the food,’ as he put it. It was as if he was going to raid Mereloff’s entire storeroom. The clattering of Beric’s cutlery echoed continuously.

“…There’s a limit to how vulgar one can be.”

The Count openly criticized him, but Beric didn’t seem to care. His attitude clearly said, *You bark, I’ll eat.* Ian even passed his own plate to Beric and began to speak.

“Since you’ve invited me to dinner, I’ve prepared a gift out of gratitude. It’s Clark, the slave you gave me last time.”

At Ian’s words, the Madam’s knife paused. It was a very brief moment, so only Ian noticed it.

“I’m going to return him. If I had known such a large transaction would take place, I wouldn’t have accepted him in the first place.”

“Ahem. Well, if that’s what you want, I won’t stop you.”

“Since there was no official contract, you can just take him back. Oh, and I’d like to make a proposal. I’d like you to encourage the residents to actively consume Gula dishes from our territory.”

The Count frowned. If that happened, it would be the same as Mereloff’s money flowing into the neighboring territory. He seized the opportunity, put down his cutlery, and snapped,

“Sir Ian, unless the earth splits, you and I will be neighbors for life. How could you make such a significant decision as allowing Gula trade on your own? Especially right after trading with us!”

“I don’t understand. We didn’t go into Mereloff to sell goods, and if the residents of this territory come to buy, how can we stop them?”

*Didn’t we confirm economic autonomy again?* Ian crossed his arms and replied, trying to give the impression that he was also displeased.

Of course, he didn’t really think anything of it, but he had to put on this act to make it seem like a negotiation.

“And it was because of the trade with you, Count, that I was able to allow the trade. It meant that the frozen relationship with Mereloff had thawed. I thought you would see the significance of it, but I guess I was mistaken.”

*That damn mouth…*

The Count barely suppressed his boiling anger and regained his composure.

“So, I understand the significance, but isn’t the timing a bit off? I almost misunderstood. It’s as if you allowed the residents to trade right after I bought Gula.”

“That’s exactly why I’m making this request. Please encourage the residents to consume, but prevent them from trading raw Gula. We’ll also do our part, but we’re short on manpower. Supply and demand are closely related, so it won’t work if only one side is careful.”

This was why Ian had accepted the dinner invitation.

To lay the groundwork by focusing on ‘buying’ rather than ‘selling’ raw Gula. A month later, if the Count was dead, it wouldn’t matter, but it was safer to prepare for the possibility of him being alive.

Of course, it was also to fill Beric’s stomach. He had so much activity that his food expenses were hard to manage, so doing this occasionally seemed like a good idea.

As long as the Count didn’t have a stroke.

“Another plate here!”

“Please wait a moment.”

“Fill it up. Don’t cut it into small pieces.”

Beric held up his empty plate and requested more from the butler. The Count glared at him but couldn’t bring himself to stop him, instead just gulping down his wine.

“…You’re drinking too much.”

“Good. Then I’ll tell the territory that raw Gula is a prohibited item. Will that do? You know what I mean, right?”

The Count neatly ignored his wife’s words and warned Ian. He would cooperate as much as possible, but if Ian sold raw Gula before he could cultivate it in his mansion, he wouldn’t let it slide. Ian glanced at the Madam and nodded.

“Of course, Count.”

“Then, let’s finish up and get going. I’m sorry, but I have a lot of work to do. Madam, please entertain Sir Ian.”

He seemed unable to continue the meal due to his anger. It was a very rude act, but Ian didn’t mind. In fact, it would be a much more comfortable meal without the Count. The Madam nodded as if to say she would take care of it, and he stormed out.

*Thud!*

“Hoo.”

As the door closed, the Madam unknowingly sighed and touched her forehead. She had never acted like this when there were outside guests, but it seemed that she had become more sensitive lately, perhaps due to the medicine.

“Are you alright, Madam?”

“Of course. Well, aren’t you eating well?”

But unlike her words, she put down her cutlery as if she had lost her appetite. She signaled with her eyes for the butler and all the servants to leave the dining room.

*Creak.*

As the door closed, Beric began to devour the food even more enthusiastically. Ian cautiously asked about the situation.

“How is it? Are you using the cosmetics you took last time?”

Perhaps, like Derga had the magic stone brooch, Count Mereloff might have something similar. Understanding the meaning, the Madam smiled faintly and nodded.

“Yes. I used it today. Don’t I look better?”

“I think so. Actually, I don’t really know.”

“I heard you brought Clark.”

“He’s outside. He’s more valuable than gold coins.”

It was clear that he was sending Clark for her sake. If Count Mereloff died, the position of head of the family would be vacant, and as the neighboring lord, Ian couldn’t miss the opportunity. Although their interests aligned, it was a clear act of goodwill.

The Madam slightly raised her head and bowed.

“I see. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“But it doesn’t seem right to receive it for free, and I noticed you were very interested in my ring last time.”

The amber gem that the mysterious alchemist had made. She looked up at the upper floor and murmured,

“If you’d like, I’d like to give it to you.”

“I’d be grateful.”

“Will you tell me if I ask? Why are you so concerned about the alchemist’s failed gem?”

It was simple curiosity. Ian took out the necklace he was wearing, as if it was nothing special.

“Actually, I have something similar.”

“Oh my. A necklace.”

“It seems to be from the same alchemist. I’ve had it since I was young, so I’m curious about many things.”

The Madam leaned closer, looking at the necklace with interest. It was definitely the same as her ring.

That’s when it happened.

*Creak.*

A servant who was entering stopped abruptly at the door. It was because Ian and the Madam were too close. No one in the dining room was doing anything suspicious, but the servant lowered her eyes to the floor.

“I, I was going to change the dishes.”

“Good. I was about to call you anyway. Change that man’s plate.”

The Madam gestured, saying it was a good thing. It was because Beric had been eating with sauce all over the place. The servant hesitantly tidied the table, bowed again, and went outside.

“Are the guests still eating?”

“Did they not eat for days? Why are they eating so much?”

“I know, right? Ugh, they’re going to eat all the meat.”

The servants in the preparation room next to the dining room became busy. The servant who had brought the dishes stood blankly, as if something was wrong. A colleague, unable to watch any longer, nudged her shoulder.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you moving?”

“Huh? Oh, oh. I have to move.”

“Did you see a monster inside?”

“…It wasn’t a monster, but, um, were the Madam and Sir Ian always that close? I thought they had only met a few times.”

“Why? What happened?”

“When I went in… the Madam was touching Sir Ian’s neck.”

*Clang!*

Too shocked, the colleague dropped a plate. At the same time, all the servants in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and turned around. They were all pale, their mouths agape, and then they surrounded the servant who had made the comment and warned her.

“Be careful what you say!”

“I know, she’s crazy.”

“If the master finds out, we’re all dead.”

Not only would Madam Rien die, but if they were unlucky, the servants would also not be able to avoid bloodshed. Besides, who here hadn’t received help from the Madam when they were beaten?

“Don’t talk nonsense, close your eyes and ears.”

“Ah, I understand…”

“Forget it. Do you remember when the Madam went in to protect you when you were beaten by the Count and was bedridden for three days? She saved all of us from being crippled and kicked out.”

They all made a silent resolution and calmed their pounding hearts. Honestly, if their husband was like that, they wouldn’t be able to keep their cool. Besides, Ian was the same age as her, had the ability to rise to the position of head of the family despite being from a common background, and above all, he was incredibly handsome.

*This is crazy, really.*

It felt like a silent storm was brewing in the mansion. They all scattered, and the butler, who had been standing outside the door, gave up on entering and turned around.

*Creak.*

*Tap tap.*

The butler’s heavy footsteps crept into the darkness of the hallway. It was the direction of the Count’s office.

*It seems like Ian is trying to seduce the Madam and do something to Mereloff…*

But was there a way to tell her without causing her any harm? The butler sighed deeply and leaned his forehead against the wall. In the distance, a ray of light was seeping through the crack in the dining room door.

“Butler?”

At that moment, a servant called out to him. The title ‘Butler’ awakened his mind as if cold water had been splashed on him. He had been worrying about useless things.

“Are you not feeling well?”

“No. Never mind, help with the dining room service.”

“Yes, I understand.”

The butler passed the servant and hardened his resolve. It was clear that he had gratitude and human affection for the Madam, but before that, he was a loyal butler of the Mereloff family.

*Knock knock.*

“Master. I’ll come in for a moment.”

As the door opened, the Count, who was smoking a cigarette, turned his head in confusion. His gaze asked if Ian had left.

* * *

The next day.

Ian woke up as usual and left his bedroom. It was a peaceful day, no different from any other. The weather seemed a bit milder than usual for winter.

“Where’s Beric?”

“He’s lying down with a stomachache.”

“That guy is something else. Tsk.”

Ian, who had come to the dining room, clicked his tongue as he sipped his tea. Was it because Beric wasn’t there? The mansion itself felt quiet. Romandro was sleeping in, and most of the Nersarn and Chunryeo tribes were spending their days at the observation posts on the border.

They were going to have their horoscopes read every other day.

*Tap tap!*

*Thump! Thud!*

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

Hanna, who was pouring tea, also paused at the commotion outside. A servant came running, looking like he was about to fall.

“Sir Ian! Sir Ian!”

“You’re in high spirits this morning.”

“A, a, a letter has arrived from Mereloff!”

“Oh, that place, really…”

“He, he, he’s dead?”

Ian frowned at the words that were cut off. The servant gasped for breath and stammered.

“Count Mereloff is dead.”

“What do you mean? We had dinner together just yesterday.”

Could it be that his sleep apnea came sooner than expected?

But the servant’s answer was no.

“Clark stabbed and killed the Count.”