Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 63

“Ah, let’s take a look.”

Romandro scratched his nose as he checked the documents. Opposite him were Ian and Kakantir, shuffling through papers as well. They were planning to wrap up the day with an evening meeting after dinner.

He asked Ian,

“Is there nothing left to reconstruct in Gilsaem Village?”

“Yes. The village was isolated due to the destruction of a bridge during the battle, so it didn’t suffer much damage. The bridge reconstruction is underway; once that’s done, it should be mostly complete.”

“Good. Then let’s reduce the orders for the quarry.”

Feeling pleased to have overcome a big challenge in erasing the traces of battle in the Bratz territory, Romandro wet his throat with wine and continued.

“What about the Grula supplies?”

“It should be fine to start distributing them gradually. According to the villagers who received supplies in advance, it’s spreading quickly. It’d be better to announce it before it flows into Merellof.”

“I see. Will you be going out again today?”

“I’m planning to continue for about three more days.”

“Working both day and night. They say magic users have exceptional talents, but it seems in your case, that talent is stamina.”

Ian laughed in surprise at the unexpected compliment. Wasn’t he the one who struggled and fainted after even a single outing when he first arrived in Bratz? But now, he seemed to be gradually toughening up through his trips to the desert.

“Let’s review the content again. Ah, Grula cultivation, distribution, and consumption within the Bratz territory are free, but trading outside must exclusively go through our mansion.”

More precisely, it would go through the Imperial Advisory Council, and even more precisely, through Ian.

Given the nature of Grula, this winter would be the first and last time it would be monopolized in Bratz. A crop that reproduces quickly and is quite common; as soon as perceptions improve, it will be consumed throughout Bariel.

Mulling over the sentences, Romandro muttered,

“Should we attach a condition about Merellof…”

“That’s not a good idea. It would give them a reason to criticize us, and we’re at a disadvantage for now.”

“Hmm. Technically, they were the ones who started it.”

“The one who strikes first often forgets.”

“True. Then, about the related fines…”

As they delved into the details, the moon reached the center of the sky. Glancing at his watch, Ian nodded.

“I think we’ve covered enough. Anything else you’d like to discuss? Ah, Sir Nersarn.”

At Ian’s words, Nersarn, who had been standing behind Kakantir and remained relatively quiet throughout the meeting, raised his hand.

“I’ve received a message from the desert.”

“From the desert?”

“The tribal chief’s health has deteriorated again.”

The old woman who had once survived a near-death experience thanks to the Silasque Ian had provided. They had hoped she was recovering, but it seemed she couldn’t stave off looming death after all.

“Therefore, we decided to use all the remaining Silasque.”

“Oh dear.”

“Even if we want to cultivate it, we don’t have any information on how to grow it or how long it will take.”

“Hold on. Can you include me in this conversation? Who’s this ‘tribal chief’ and what is ‘Silasque’?”

Romandro, who had been silently listening, raised his hand. Everything being said was completely unknown to him. Especially the term ‘Silasque,’ he had never heard of it before.

Ian briefly explained what had happened.

“…so, in order to cure the Gypsy’s disease, we needed a red flower called Silasque. It just so happened that I had one. The Cheonrye tribe got through their hardship with one, and I was pondering whether to plant the other one for future generations or use it for the tribe chief Winchen. That’s the decision that has been made.”

“Silasque? I’ve never heard of it.”

“You really don’t know? It’s a red flower that never wilts once it blooms.”

If an advisor from the Imperial Palace doesn’t know, that’s saying something. Even Ian, who was an emperor in his past life, was unfamiliar with it; it must be hard to find in Bariel.

“The biggest factor in our decision is the current situation in Bratz. You’re aware of our funeral customs, right?”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

When a tribe or clan chief dies, the entire tribe enters into mourning for a year. The leader is considered the family of everyone, especially if they’ve held the position for a long time like Winchen.

“Sir Romandro.”

“Hmm?”

Ian, who had been tapping the table, called out to him. It was time to discuss something they had been skirting around.

“Has there been any response to the report I sent to the Imperial Palace?”

“No, not a single one has come in yet.”

“I’m asking about a reply from Crown Prince Mariv.”

Everyone knows that the Crown Prince has been sending daily reports. The first prince is undoubtedly restraining the party that’s cornered, which also means restraining Gale, the second prince. Everyone is aware that he’s not just interested in the reconstruction of Bratz.

“…There was just one.”

“Do you mind if I ask what it was?”

“It was nothing much. Just that we should carefully report the situation in the territory and also…”

Romandro glanced at Ian.

“Because you’re a magic user, to keep a close eye on you. Ahem. Really, that’s it. Nothing special, right?”

Based on Ian’s assumption, one of the main pillars of Gale was the Magic Department. Ian remembered an incident where many wizards, who were already considered precious, were purged en masse after the failure of the rebellion. Thus, Ian being a magic user could be a little problematic from Mariv’s perspective. Mariv might also be aware of this power dynamic, and could misunderstand Ian as being on Gale’s side.

“Advisor, as you can see, I don’t get along well with Sir Molrin’s group.”

“Hmm. Yes, I see that. Hehe.”

Romandro took a sip of his wine, letting out an awkward laugh. He seemed slightly tense, perhaps wondering what Ian would say next.

“Do you think Prince Mariv would prefer to appoint the new lord of Bratz as someone unrelated to Sir Molrin’s group?”

“There are circumstances among the higher-ups, so to speak.”

“I share that sentiment, Advisor.”

“I had suspected as much, to be honest.”

“It’s convenient that you suspected. Sir Romandro, I know you wish to return to the center. If a new lord is appointed quickly, it would also be favorable for you.”

“Ian, you…”

“Recommend me as the lord.”

While the right to appoint a lord belongs to the Emperor, a recommendation from the Crown Prince, who is also the actual wielder of power, will carry significant weight. Even if Ian has the blood of a criminal, being a magic user makes such limitations meaningless. For the sake of Bariel’s development, someone had to hold onto him.

“Otherwise, I’ll have to return to the desert. The new lord wouldn’t leave someone from the former lineage like me alone. Moreover, the palace would try to monopolize my abilities under the status of a slave.”

“That’s true, but…”

“The only way to secure both my safety and Bratz’s peace is me. There will be no one more compatible in terms of public sentiment, which was also a concern in the imperial palace.”

Not only that, the tasks recorded in the reports demonstrated remarkable ability. The discovery of Grula was the same. Eliminating the empire’s famine was already an accomplishment that made a position like a lord of some remote area seem inadequate.

Of course, it hasn’t proceeded to that extent yet.

Romandro took out a cigarette, as if he had made up his mind.

“Alright, let me speak frankly.”

“Please do.”

“Prince Mariv doesn’t understand the relationship between you and Molrin.”

From a third-person perspective, didn’t Ian back his own father through Molrin, and wasn’t that the reason why things ended up this way? It was almost like he had set up a stepping stone to appoint Molrin as the lord.

Furthermore, a magic user. If he enters the palace, he’ll inevitably be affiliated with the Magic Department. It was an open secret that the head of the Magic Department, Wesleigh, was Gale’s woman.

No matter how you look at it, Ian fits well with Gale.

“If that’s the reason, I’ll prove it.”

“How?”

“I’ll discuss the details directly with Prince Mariv. Even if I explain in detail, some things can’t be conveyed through text alone. But I can prove right away that I am truly on a path opposed to Sir Molrin’s group.”

That is, through death.

Reading Ian’s emotionless gaze, Romandro felt a slight chill run down his spine. Without a word having been spoken, he wondered why he felt so precarious.

“Then, I will convey your message to Prince Mariv.”

“Thank you.”

In truth, Romandro also knew deep down that Ian was the right person for the job. However, due to his background and circumstances, he couldn’t easily speak up.

Furthermore, the moment he did, it would be like throwing himself into an unknown whirlpool of politics. Romandro simply wished to finish the reconstruction quickly and return to his main house in the central region.

To the home where his lovely wife was waiting for him!

“Then, let’s call it a day.”

“Since we’re on the subject, may I ask you for one more favor?”

“What is it?”

“Could you find out if there’s a merchant in the center who deals with Silasque?”

The empire’s capital was the center of the world. If he wanted to find information, he was certain to find it. Romandro readily nodded, as it wasn’t a difficult task.

“I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you.”

“The night has grown late. You should also get some rest.”

“You too, see you tomorrow.”

Screech

Romandro and Nersarn tidied up their seats and left the meeting room. Ian lightly tapped his tired shoulders and called for Beric outside.

“Beric, let’s call it an early night.”

“Tired?”

“Yes. My eyes keep closing, can’t help it.”

Ian chuckled, wrapped the hood around his shoulders, and turned off all the meeting room’s lanterns. This night was particularly dark, even the moon didn’t rise.

***

“Master Ian is here!”

“Shh. Keep your voice down.”

“Master Ian, we’ve been waiting for you.”

“You’ve all stayed up, I see.”

“Of course. By the way, we tried roasting seeds for the first time yesterday. They were really delicious!”

The rumor that Ian would be handing out Grula seeds at midnight had already spread. Everyone pretended to be asleep and locked their doors, but as soon as they heard any movement, they ran out to greet him. Perhaps due to the excited atmosphere, it felt like the aftermath of a forbidden festival.

“What to do now? I didn’t prepare much for today.”

“Already? I only got a handful…”

“Tomorrow, I’ll try to prepare more generously.”

“Don’t put Master Ian in a difficult situation! He’s already helping us out by avoiding the eyes of those palace brats, isn’t he?”

“Ah, you little rascal. Those palace brats will hear you. Keep your voice down.”

Surprisingly, they didn’t find it strange that the guards didn’t come despite the noise. No, it seemed like they didn’t even consider it. As if they were intoxicated by the joy that Grula brought them.

“Tomorrow, you have to give it to me first, okay?”

“Understood. So go and get some rest.”

Beric shook the sack he had been carrying, signaling that it was empty. The disappointed villagers dispersed one by one, and Ian also turned to leave.

Shuffle, shuffle.

As they exited the alleyway, only the sound of their footsteps could be heard. Maybe it was because he was more tired than usual, but Ian walked in silence until he realized that Beric had stopped.

“Are you not going?”

“Ian.”

Beric playfully raised his eyebrows ‘three times.’ Their gazes met as a cool breeze swept through. Ian also took off his hood and showed a faint smile.

“Let’s go.”

Following them were three presences.

Ian pretended not to notice and kept walking ahead, while Beric flailed his arms about, as if to show that he wasn’t carrying any weapons. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ NovᴇlFɪre .ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Sᴇarch the ɴøᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.