Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor -
Chapter 89
‘Unbelievable. It was this close all along yet I never knew.’
Ian chuckled in disbelief as he looked at the ring. Naturally, he had no reason to scrutinize the lady’s fingers or jewelry.
The hand she had signaled with earlier was the opposite one. And there were already over seven pieces of jewelry laid out on the table apart from the suspicious ring.
“Why do you ask?”
“Do you know what gem is set in this ring?”
The lady looked at Ian with a puzzled expression, as if wondering why he would ask such a question. But since she didn’t know either, her questioning glance went straight to Count Merellof instead.
“No. You see, it was a gift from the Count…”
The more he inspected it, the more certain he became. Ian was still wearing a necklace under his outer garment, similar to the one hidden beneath the Silasque flowerpot. The yellow gemstone, which seemed to capture sunlight, was finely crafted.
“Count?”
“Hmm, don’t remember well but I think I got it as a gift from a merchant on his way up to the capital. It was the spring of our first year married so probably…”
The Count tapped his temple, trying to recall the name of the merchant group, but he only managed to let out frustrated sighs, unable to articulate it.
“Ugh. Anyway, it was a gift from a merchant, that’s for sure. I remember there was an alchemist there too.”
“An alchemist?”
“Yes. He was trying to make gold, and produced all sorts of strange stuff… whether it was a failure or intentional, I really couldn’t tell. But I was told that such things are quite popular in countries beyond the Hawan Kingdom.”
Iaan was struck speechless by the unexpected information.
An alchemist – not once had he ever imagined that possibility. Those who sought to turn iron into gold through the study of natural principles rather than magic. Some saw them as frauds, lunatics or even heretics mimicking magicians at worst.
“For a merchant to have an alchemist, how fascinating.”
“Probably not that unusual abroad. Isn’t an alchemist like a living, breathing precious metals factory? While I haven’t seen any outstanding alchemists, it’s interesting seeing their almost-finished products. Merchants strike so many deals on the move, the inventory turnover is amazing. Don’t you know?”
“How would I know that?”
“Right, of course. Those types wouldn’t be visiting the brothels of Bratz, I suppose.”
Count Merellof inadvertently let out an insulting remark and then flinched, realizing his mistake. Wasn’t he the one requesting to delay the payment and offering collateral?
His tongue had made a real blunder.
“Cough.”
The Count cleared his throat and glanced at Ian, who seemed too absorbed in examining the ring to notice.
‘I see. A creation of an alchemist. But why was it hidden in Ian’s flowerpot?’
The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together.
If what Philea said was true, Ian had acquired the flowerpot after running an errand for the caravan. It must have been the same group the Count mentioned.
“I see. Thank you for explaining.”
“The ring…”
Ian and the Lady’s gazes locked. Ian would have liked to buy it, and the Lady seemed willing to give it as a gift, if not for Count Merellof’s presence.
“Is this sufficient for collateral?”
“Of course, My Lady. I will return your valuables before tomorrow’s sunset if a check is sent. I hope this doesn’t shake our mutual trust.”
“Hmph. I don’t know what you take Merellof for.”
“If you took offense, please know that was not my intention.”
Knock knock.
“Count. We’ve moved all the sacks.”
Just then, a servant from outside, sounding nearly out of breath, informed them. There were a total of 100 sacks. Now, all that was left was to transport them back and forth several times by carriage.
“Good. Go out. Dear, head to the estate first. Ian and I will wrap up here then join you.”
“Yes, I understand.”
The Lady picked up her coat and gave Ian a slight nod. Though unintended, a sort of unspoken understanding passed between them, a shared secret. It was brief and subtle.
“Lord Ian, thank you for today. You’ve made an excellent choice for the boundless future of Merellof and this estate.”
“Not at all. It was a satisfying transaction for me as well.”
Though these were seemingly normal words of parting, the Count felt an uneasy intuition. Was it because of the brief silence earlier about the ring? The Count followed his wife out, casting a wary glance at Ian.
***
Bang!
“Why the hell was he making that face?”
As soon as the door closed, Beric grumbled irritably. Ian just shrugged with a bewildered smile and began to gather the Lady’s jewelry into a small pouch.
“Besides, those aren’t even real gems.”
“Do gems matter? If they’re shiny and valuable to the public, they’re gems.”
“What if the Count doesn’t send the check tomorrow like he said?”
“Stop worrying over nothing. We’ll be grateful if he does.”
Ian chuckled and handed the pouch to Beric, implying that he should take good care of it.
“We’ve drawn up a contract, so if it’s not fulfilled, we can officially file a complaint with the royal court. Like most border counts, he hates getting entangled with the court, so he’ll pay up just to avoid that.”
And if he doesn’t pay? They could take it to court and receive not only the principal amount but also compensation. It was almost like trading Grula for more than their worth of 3,500 gold coins.
“And as soon as Count Merellof and his party leave the estate, spread the news that we’re allowing the trade of Grula. Start with only the roasted ones.”
“Just the roasted kind?”
“Yes.”
Timing and sequence were crucial.
“If we sell fresh Grula now, no one will buy the roasted ones. People would rather buy and prepare them themselves. They can just buy and cook it themselves. Plus in a month when our crops sprout, no one will want to buy raw anymore.”
However, if they sold roasted first, those who wanted to eat it would have no choice but to keep buying.
And a month later, when Count Merellof starts distributing Grula, selling them at a slightly lower price will provide another round of profit.
“Most of all, contract or not, it’s obvious the Count will kick up a fuss. So we need justification lined up as a precaution.”
While they agreed not to interfere with business activities, there was no telling how he’d react if they flooded the market immediately after the deal. Based on his personality, it would be extremely tiring.
“For now, since it’s just roasted Grula, it’s unrelated to the Count’s profit, but later on…”
“Later on?”
Beric asked curiously, but Ian just smiled and shook his head, indicating he had no intention of explaining further.
“Never mind.”
“Come on, why not tell me!”
“Go help with the work. We need to hurry and leave. Also, tell the estate’s residents that 10% of the profits from the sale of the roasted Grula will be taxed.”
“Okay. 10%. One in ten. I get that much now!”
It was uncertain how much they would make. The additional income would depend on the selling skills of the residents. Following Ian’s instructions, Beric started to leave but then paused.
“What about that Clark guy?”
“Ah, keep him for now. He has connections to the lady so he may prove useful somehow.”
“Can I mess with him?”
At Beric’s comment, Ian turned his head. It seemed that Beric was unhappy about Clark idly enjoying his day in the room. Clark probably felt like he was imprisoned.
“Go ahead if you want to use him. Just don’t physically harm him.”
“Yes!”
Thud, thud, thud!
What was he planning to do with that excitement?
With Ian’s permission, Beric quickly ran out. As Ian drew the curtain, he could see that the sorting of the Grula was nearly finished.
* * *
“Lord Ian!”
“Yes, Hannah. Lively as ever I see.”
“The Merellof steward has come directly. He said he brought the payment.”
“Ah, I see.”
With Ian’s permission, the steward from Merellof entered the office. His demeanor and the way he handled his gaze seemed even more refined than the Count’s.
Creak.
“Welcome.”
“Greetings to you, Lord Ian. Here is the payment for the Grula that we failed to deliver yesterday. Excluding the 1,000 gold coins already prepaid, this is a cheque guaranteeing the remaining 2,500 coins. Please verify it.”
The steward placed an envelope on a silver tray at the edge of Ian’s desk. Ian checked the cheque paper, marked with the emblem of Hayman Bank, and then examined the Count’s seal and handwritten signature.
“There’s no issue.”
“That’s a relief.”
“I’ll have someone bring the valuables the Lady left as collateral. Hannah, tell Beric to bring the items.”
“Yes, Lord Ian.”
“Why don’t you take a seat and wait? Is there anything urgent?”
“No, there’s nothing. I will take a seat then, thank you.”
The steward sat down, somewhat flustered. He had mentioned his business before being offered tea, which could be considered impolite.
But the awkwardness of the situation was unavoidable.
Previously, the steward had sent a request for Grula trading in his own name. Ian had not responded, but upon reflection, it seemed like an act of disclosing Merellof’s circumstances externally, effectively ceding the upper hand in negotiations.
If the Count ever found out about this…
“Your name is Simon, right?”
“Yes, that’s correct. I’m glad you remember.”
The steward managed to shake off his distracting thoughts and answered.
“Of course. I’ve read the letter you sent several times.”
Crap. His weakness has been exposed. The steward felt his heart sink but maintained an expressionless face.
“Judging by your name, you don’t seem to come from a lineage of stewards. Where are you from? Have you been working long?”
The steward silently gauged Ian’s intention instead of answering. He didn’t know why he was asking such things.
“It’s just that we’re in need of a steward ourselves.”
“I plan to serve the Merellof house until my end.”
“Hmm. Well, that’s your decision. I was thinking more about providing tutelage.”
“Tutelage?”
He wondered if it was a scouting attempt. Stewards were key figures in noble houses, and it wasn’t uncommon for nobles to entice them away.
“Of course, it would require the Count’s permission, but I wanted to express our interest in advance.”
“…I will consult with the Count.”
“Good. You seem capable and intelligent. Naturally I won’t skimp on pay. And I could give Clark, who you worked with before, back to you. With your experience running that estate, it would help greatly.”
The answer was predictable.
The Count would vehemently refuse. However, this wasn’t about seeking permission from the Count; it was a message specifically for the Lady. After causing trouble, if they wanted Clark, they would have to lend their steward.
“Yes, I understand. I will relay your message as is.”
Knock, knock.
“Lord Ian, Beric has brought the pouch.”
“Ah, good. Hannah, come here.”
“Yes?”
Hanah placed the pouch on the table, and Ian introduced her to the steward with a smile.
“This is Hannah.”
“Hello?”
“…I see. Understood.”
It seemed Hannah would be the future caretaker of this estate.
Unaware of the full context, Hannah awkwardly fidgeted with her fingers while greeting. The steward checked the valuables in the pouch and then stood up to leave.
“Then, I’ll take my leave.”
“Thank you for your efforts.”
“Oh, I’ll see you out!”
Creak!
Ian watched through the window as the steward left the mansion. He then glanced at the cheque for 2,500 gold coins on the tray and smirked.
Tap, tap!
Meanwhile, steward Simon’s carriage couldn’t speed up and started moving slowly due to the crowded streets. He peered out of the carriage window, muttering to himself.
“Why is everyone out when it’s so cold…”
Curious about what was happening.
The steward frowned, wondering if what he saw was accurate.
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