Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor -
Chapter 9
“Use the rumors.”
“The rumors?”
Ian glanced at Molrin. It was as if he was telling him, ‘Listen carefully, I’m about to provide the answer you want.’
“To be precise, we should spread rumors that fulfill desires. For instance, eating it makes the skin smoother, hair shinier and thicker. Or it aids in weight loss or weight gain. If we claim it’s effective for pregnancy, people will be desperate to consume it. Then, they’ll be itching to eat it.”
Regardless of gender.
In fact, this was a method often used by the central court. It was a basic yet effective method to shape public opinion and correct market imbalances.
“That’s interesting. The citizens of the palace are nimble and clever. A groundless rumor will quickly be extinguished. So what’s the next step?”
Mack questioned, his voice echoing as he sipped on his sherry.
The man’s question wasn’t an issue either.
“We can set guards.” Ian placed his index and middle fingers on the table, mimicking a person’s legs, then slowly traced a circle next to the dish. “You make a show of guarding it, but you intentionally leave a weak spot. It’s human nature to desire something valuable. They’ll steal it, even if what’s being guarded is worthless, wondering what it could be that esteemed people guard day and night. When the time comes, they can’t stop it even if they want to, and everyone naturally comes into contact. However,”
“However?”
“Those are just minor issues. The essential problem is whether an alternative food source will really emerge.”
Molrin, Mack, and D’gor felt static in their brains. After all, they were from the Central Court,where the top echelons of the empire congregated—implying that they had seen countless types of people.
Such answers were expected from those who boasted of their academic prowess, but they had never seen a kid, who had just shed his infancy, answer so astutely. Especially one who had been wandering around the red-light district until recently.
Then the three men recalled the issue they should have considered first.
‘Should the second-born really cross the border instead of the first-born?’
They had overlooked it. No, they had been arrogant. They assumed that the bastard child from the slums would naturally fall behind.
Whether Ian was aware of this or not, he smiled brightly and brought the steak to his mouth.
“It’s really delicious.”
“Indeed, it seems the good weather enhances the flavor.”
What started as a light luncheon had now transformed its atmosphere. Ian noticed that all eyes were on him.
‘This is as far as I go concerning the grulla.’
Now was the time for the main event. Ian intended to investigate why Dergha had played his hand through a letter and if there was a chance for him to get out of the mansion.
“Do you enjoy writing, young master Ian?”
The conversation resumed. Mack asked Ian, but his gaze naturally shifted towards the Count’s wife and Chel. Even though they had come to see Ian, a conversation too focused on one person was considered rude.
“I heard that your wife has a discerning eye for literature. I presume your children are also exceptional.”
“Oh my. That’s too generous of you. It’s just a little bit of scribbling. Isn’t it true, Sir Mack, that you have authored two books? I am embarrassed to receive such praise from someone like you.”
D’gor butted in as response to her modest tone. “Madam, you need not be so humble. In my view, Sir Mac is more proficient at writing letters than books. If anyone receives a letter from him, they cry tears of love and scream out in joy.”
“D’gor! That’s quite the exaggeration.”
“Haha! Young master Ian, you should ask Sir Mac for help if you ever need to write a letter. It will be quite useful.”
The man’s jesting gesture, even winking, seemed incredibly comical. The lady of the house laughed heartily, seeming to enjoy the joke, but Dergha’s expression was unusually dark. He found the content of their conversation extremely uncomfortable.
‘The Cheonrye tribe has requested your handwritten letter.’
‘The timing was too perfect, almost as if he knew Ian had to write a letter. Did he know? If so, how had he found out?’ Dergha preemptively cut in, sipping his wine: “Speaking of which, we received a message from the Cheonrye tribe.”
“Oh? Is that so?”
Dergha carefully chose his next words. “They’ve asked for Ian’s handwritten letter on a regular basis.”
“I’m not sure why you’re so worried, since we’re going to use a homogeneity verification potion anyway. I can’t understand these savages who behave like beasts,” Mack said with a smirk, goading Dergha before adding, “Beasts are always wary of the world, that’s their way of life. They establish order only through power, don’t they? It’s common for the chieftain we meet in spring to be replaced by fall, isn’t it?”
Power is everything. All hierarchies were determined solely by strength. The chieftain had to accept challenges at any time, and only death could bring peace.
“If they weren’t so hot-headed, Bariel would have had a harder time.”
They regulate their own population, how fortunate. Upon hearing Mack’s words, Ian asked, “Then is the current Cheonrye tribe’s chieftain, a rival of the former chieftain? Or a follower?”
The Cheonrye tribe was decimated before Ian’s coronation, and their status was low. Whenever desert crossers went missing, it was either a sandstorm or the work of the Cheonrye tribe, or so he thought.
Thus, the information he had was very fragmentary and basic.
In response to Ian’s question, Mack shook his head. “No, neither. The tribal chief is an old woman named Winchen, who’s so old that her age is unknown. While other chieftains change almost every day, she has been holding the position of tribal chief for a long time.”
“Ah. That means……” Ian mumbled as if surprised. “She must be the spiritual pillar of the Cheonrye tribe.”
It was the correct answer. Mack didn’t hide his admiring gaze for Ian who understood even a single word perfectly.
“From what I’ve heard, everyone in the tribe considers her as someone who has touched the sky. She has a very special ability.”
“An ability? I’ve heard they despise magic.”
“It’s hard to call it magic, it’s more similar to a gypsy. She’s a seer, who discerns the truth and lies with her voice.”
Ah. Ian softly furrowed his eyebrows. ‘A seer chieftain who sees the truth.’
Now he understood Dergha’s intentions.
The gureut leaf was definitely a luxury item, an item that could not be obtained no matter what. If Ian could successfully smuggle it, it would be a huge gain. It’s not just any plant, it’s the plant the Cheonrye tribe always brings into battle.
Whether to enhance Bratz’s military power, or to reduce the combat power of the Cheonrye tribe. Either way, it was a chance to tip the scales of victory toward Bratz.
But what if they were exposed midway?
Ian would be interrogated by the chieftain. He would confess that it was purely for his mother. If the Cheonrye tribe protests, then Bratz could appease them with Ian and his mother’s death. Since it’s not related to the Count, it can be soothed with some form of consolation.
‘Is there a chance that the Cheonrye tribe will declare war using this as an excuse?’
It was still unlikely. For now.
The extinction of Bratz was for the next generation. There must be a reason for what happened then. He could guess that a full-scale war would be too much to handle right now.
“Count-nim, you must have heard about the chieftain as well, right? Isn’t that right, Count Dergha?”
“Yes, well, to be honest, I’ve never seen the chieftain myself.”
Dergha coughed awkwardly, sneaking glances at the child. ‘How does that kid know?’
The tutor had reported that Ian was slow-witted without any doubt, but the occasional glimpses of sharpness were suspicious. It was utterly impossible to guess what thoughts were traversing within that small head.
“The more I hear, the more fascinating the tribe seems.”
Ian noticed his gaze and smiled even brighter, to leave no room for doubt. As Ian naturally continued his carving, Dergha withdrew his suspicious gaze.
But what does it matter? Since Ian had already detected Dergha’s intentions, if he were to appear before the tribal leader, everything would undoubtedly be exposed.
‘Well, he’s not likely to do that.’
The subsequent conversations of little significance were scattered by the wind. Around Mack and D’gor, and the Countess, hearty laughter broke out.
“So, Prince Gale, the second Prince, has said, ‘Immediately lock that arrogant child in a pigsty!'”
“Oh my! Are you serious?”
“Yes, he’s quite the belligerent one.”
“Ohoho! How terrible!”
Suddenly, Ian tilted his head in confusion.
Molrin, Mack, and D’gor were officials dispatched from the central court. All officials follow the Emperor and the official heir in carrying out their duties. It’s significant for these people to be away from the capital for several months.
Either they were carrying the trust of the Emperor due to their importance…
Or they were distanced from their positions.
Dergha, who was unfamiliar with the capital’s affairs, didn’t know, but Ian felt a strange hunch.
‘Why do they keep mentioning the second prince?’
The official heir is the first prince, so their lord should naturally be the first prince as well.
Of course, there are followers of other princes too, but they are mostly those who are far from the center of power.
But these three men have consistently spoken of Prince Gale, the second prince.
“Young master Ian, what are you thinking about?”
“No, I was just listening to your conversation, it’s quite entertaining.”
“Is that so? I thought I misread you. You look so solemn. Hehe.”
Molrin subtly diverted Ian’s attention. His face was smiling, but his eyes were cold and persistent, scrutinizing the boy. Was the golden eye he saw at their first dinner a mere illusion? He heard that magic users have significantly higher intellectual capabilities than ordinary people. If that’s the case, perhaps…
“Count Dergha.” While wiping his mouth with a napkin, Molrin began. As if it were a signal, Mack and D’gor ceased their conversation. “Like I felt before, young master Ian’s scholarship is quite remarkable, it always surprises even me. It must be due to the excellent education policy of the Count and the Countess.”
“That’s too kind.”
“Thus, I have a small favor to ask.”
At that remark, Dergha took a somewhat anxious sip of his wine.
That cunning old fox. How many times has he caused trouble with his ‘favors’?
As Dergha chose his response, a brief silence fell. At this moment, Ian didn’t miss his chance.
“Would you like to take a tour of my room?”
Ian asked with a hint of mischief.
While his speech wasn’t very aristocratic, it was a child’s playful manners. Pointing out his informal tone would be ungraceful. Countess Mary seemed irritated, glaring at the back of Ian’s head.
“That would be nice, but this time it’s about something else.”
Everyone in the household, including Count Dergha, focused their gaze on Molrin’s mouth. Only Mack and D’gor appeared composed, as if they already anticipated this.
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