Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor [EN]: Chapter 91

The commotion started right after Ian left the Mereloff mansion. The butler stopped the Lady as she was wearily heading back to her bedroom. Lady Rienne frowned at him.

“What is it?”

“The Count requests your presence.”

“…Why?”

She felt uneasy, a bad premonition. It wasn’t an unusual summons, but the butler’s rigid expression made her wary. She stood still, not moving. As the candle wax dripped, the butler urged her.

“My Lady.”

“Wait. I’m thinking. Do you know why he wants me, Butler?”

The butler sighed after a moment of silence. The sound echoed in the unusually quiet hallway, colder than the chilly wind outside.

“Butler, tell me.”

“The Master knows about your relationship with Sir Ian.”

“…How?”

Her face turned pale. It was an unexpected answer. The butler’s heart sank at her lack of denial.

He wished she would deny it, speak with her usual confidence. But her reaction confirmed what the servants had seen.

“Why, My Lady…”

“No, that’s impossible…”

“You know the Master’s temper. You made a mistake.”

“Isn’t that why I did it? Because I know!”

But Lady Rienne misunderstood completely. She thought her assassination attempt had been discovered, not her affair. Her body trembled, her mind blank.

‘What do I do? What if the Count doesn’t die? What about me?’

If the Count didn’t die, she would. Even if she wasn’t killed, she would be trapped here forever.

That was a given. And in this situation, only Ian could help her. She quickly ran down the hallway.

*Thump! Thud!*

“My Lady!”

“Damn it, Ian! Ian!”

“W-What’s going on?”

“Get the carriage, no, a horse! Sir Ian!”

“My Lady! You can’t!”

She stumbled down the stairs, shouting. The servants, who were tidying up, gathered at the sudden commotion. One tried to help her up, but she pushed them away, yelling.

“Get me a horse!”

“My Lady, you mustn’t!”

“Shut up! I’m about to die, how can I not? Get out of my way!”

*Clang! Crash!*

The hallway decorations fell and shattered as she desperately tried to reach the front door. Her bruised knees ached terribly.

But she knew.

If she stopped now, it was truly over.

*Swoosh!*

“My Lady. This commotion must stop.”

A knight grabbed her arm. One of the three knights in the mansion. Her face was pale as she gasped for breath.

“S-Someone, please, someone…”

“Goodness, what is all this…”

“My Lady, are you alright?”

“Everyone, return to your rooms. No one is to come out until given permission.”

“Disperse!”

The servants hesitated, worried about her, but retreated at the butler’s and knight’s shouts. They all bowed their heads and left the hallway.

“Let go! Let go of me! How dare you touch me?”

“I’m sorry, My Lady. But if you go on like this, things will get worse.”

“Aaaah! No! No!”

At the butler’s signal, the knight lifted her. Her injured legs were exposed under her skirt, but there was no other way. Lady Rienne struggled and screamed, her cries echoing throughout the mansion, reaching Clark’s ears.

“…My Lady?”

Ian had brought him back to return him, but Clark hadn’t received that message. He was just sitting in the old servant’s storage room in the Mereloff mansion, eating gruel. Ian had already left, but no one was paying attention to him because of the Lady’s commotion.

*Creak.*

Clark walked down the hallway and looked up the stairs. He had lived here for years. He knew the mansion’s layout like the back of his hand, and he knew that Lady Rienne’s screams were mostly coming from the bedroom.

*Creak.*

With each step, the wooden floor creaked eerily. He eventually reached the floor where the Count and Countess’s bedroom was, and faced the butler and knight guarding it.

“Clark?”

“Return to your quarters.”

“My Lady…”

“I said, go back.”

*Thump! Thud!*

At the same time, a dull sound came from inside. Clark instinctively tried to rush in, but the knight blocked him with a light gesture.

“Rienne!”

*Bang!*

Did he hear that? The noisy bedroom suddenly fell silent. Then, the door opened, and the Count appeared, his eyes bloodshot.

“…Clark?”

“Ah…”

He looked like a demon, drenched in sweat. The Count felt his blood run cold at the sound of Lady Rienne calling out Clark’s name.

“That damned woman, how many men has she been with? Ian and Clark, both of them…”

“No… I told you, no…”

“Then why are you calling Clark’s name!”

*Slam!*

The Count grabbed the woman’s hair mercilessly. He looked back and forth between her and Clark, a cruel smile on his face. Then, he turned and walked back inside, leaving the door open as if inviting them in. Lady Rienne, being dragged, looked at Clark, tears streaming down her face.

‘Run away.’

That’s what she was saying. But, but…

*Creak.*

Clark followed her into the bedroom as if drawn by a magnet. The butler looked worried, the knight indifferent. The Count lit a cigarette and ordered.

“Anyone who leaves this room without my permission will be cut down.”

“…Understood.”

“Don’t let anyone disturb us.”

*Slam!*

The bedroom door was firmly shut. Tonight, the woman and the slave would not leave alive. When the sun rose, the wooden floor would be stained with the blood of one of them.

The Count whipped them both with all his might, sweating profusely. The more Clark tried to protect the Lady, the harder he whipped.

*Crack! Crack!*

“Ah!”

When the long whip finally struck the Lady’s neck and then her cheek, Clark snapped. His body moved on its own, against his will. He grabbed the letter opener on the table and stabbed the Count in the neck.

“Aaaah!”

The butler and knight outside turned their heads at the strange scream. Was it Clark? They were puzzled, but the Count’s order not to interfere kept them at the door.

“Hic…”

The Lady’s sobs could be heard intermittently.

And finally, the darkness faded, and the sun rose.

The door, which seemed like it would be closed forever, opened, and the first one to come out was Lady Rienne. Covered in blood, whether it was the Count’s or her own, no one could tell.

She walked slowly, her fingertips tracing the wall.

Her trail continued, however faintly.

* * *

*Creak.*

Ian got out of the carriage and looked around the mansion. The shocking atmosphere caused by the Count’s murder was palpable. Maybe it was because Ian himself felt it.

It seemed the news hadn’t reached the village yet…

“Sir Ian? Welcome.”

The servant who had been waiting for him walked ahead, fidgeting. Ian ignored the shattered decorations in the hallway and went upstairs.

In front of the problematic bedroom, three knights with swords, the butler, and several servants were gathered, discussing something difficult.

“Sir Ian has arrived.”

“Ah.”

The butler seemed out of it. He didn’t even greet Ian properly. Ian didn’t need formalities either, so he just gestured with his hand and went inside.

“You’re here?”

“Goodness, My Lady.”

The scene was a mess. The soft, ivory rug was soaked in blood, and the room was in disarray. But even worse was Lady Rienne, sitting on the sofa.

“Please, sit. Though it’s a mess.”

“What happened? What on earth…”

Her dress was the same as the one she wore at dinner last night. It looked like she had just wiped off the blood with a wet towel, leaving streaks of blood on her pale skin.

“As you can see, it’s a mess.”

“Is the Count dead?”

“The doctor is examining the body in the inner bedroom. Clark stabbed him in the neck with a letter opener while being whipped.”

She exhaled cigarette smoke and muttered. It felt like the world had changed in just one night, during the time the moon was up. Ian frowned and looked inside.

‘Seriously, this is ridiculous.’

What was the point of smuggling drugs from Hawan and making plans? It was to avoid legal punishment. Whether it was the Lady or those who colluded with her.

“Sir Ian. Greetings. I am Poolu, one of the three knights of Mereloff.”

Ian turned his head at the stranger’s greeting. He was a man with brown curly hair, and the Lady’s gaze towards him was not friendly.

“Did you send the letter?”

“Yes, I did. There are things I need to confirm.”

“Confirm? With me?”

Ian frowned, as if he didn’t understand. The Lady just stubbed out her cigarette on the table, looking tired.

“We are the ones who swore loyalty to Count Mereloff. It is our duty to reveal the truth of our lord’s death. If anyone is responsible for the Count’s death, we will punish them. That will be the last mission of us three knights.”

Look at these guys?

Ian crossed his arms and raised his head.

“So?”

“What is your relationship with Lady Rienne Mereloff?”

“…What?”

He should have understood, but Ian felt like his mind had stopped. Clark had killed him, so were they suspecting him of instigating it?

But why was the question like that?

“They suspect Sir Ian and I of having an affair.”

“Pfft!”

Beric burst out laughing at the Lady’s words. But the three knights, who had called themselves that, didn’t even blink, as if they were serious. Ian chuckled and rubbed his forehead.

‘This is ridiculous…’

“Where is Clark?”

“He is imprisoned in the dungeon.”

“Bring him here.”

“We cannot do that.”

The knight firmly refused Ian’s order. His brow furrowed. The Lady, who had been listening, ordered again in a languid voice.

“Bring Clark here.”

“We cannot listen to the Lady’s orders until the full story of the incident is clear.”

“This is the situation, Sir Ian.”

The Count was dead, so she was the head of the mansion until the next Count was decided, but the knights’ opposition was making the situation complicated.

Ian looked up and down at the knights and muttered.

“Is there a story to tell? It’s the result of your master’s terrible personality. You incompetent fools who couldn’t do anything while your master was dying, you’re all talk.”

He could guess why they were acting like this.

Even in Bratz, many forces had jumped in to take Derga’s place. Molin and Erica, and behind them, Gale, Ian, Chunryeo, and the ones keeping them in check, Marib and Romandro…

“Besides, treating a concerned neighbor like this, you have no manners. Since we have an imperial advisor on our side, I will request a notarization for this matter.”

Ian immediately winked at the Lady.

“When you’re organizing the mansion, My Lady, please fire these idiots. They’re not worth it.”

“Sir Ian!”

*Clang!*

As the knight shouted in protest, Beric stepped forward.

“Shut up. Why are you always yelling?”

He answered by swinging his sword instead of words.

Ian looked at the dead Count’s body, the Lady, and the knights, and pondered. If they pushed out the Lady and the Count’s younger brother and took over the mansion, things could get quite complicated.

“Beric.”

“Yeah?”

It was as if Ian’s presence was bothering them in the Imperial Palace.

“It seems like we need to clean up.”

“Here?”

Beric pointed his sword at the knights.

As if to ask if cleaning up meant getting rid of those three heads.