Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Chapter 92

It happened right after Ian left the Merellof estate. The steward blocked the wife’s path as she dragged her tired body to return to her bedroom. Lady Lien wrinkled her brows as she looked at him.

“What is it?”

“The Count requests your presence.”

“…Why?”

There was something uneasy and ominous about it. It wasn’t a common summon. Was it because of the steward’s stiff expression? The lady remained fixed in place, unmoving. As wax dripped down the candlestick, the steward urged her on.

“My lady.”

“Wait. Let me think. Does even the steward not know why I’m being called?”

After a brief moment of silence, the steward heaved a sigh. That breath echoing in the unusually quiet corridor felt colder than the frigid wind outside.

“Steward. Tell me.”

“Master is aware of the relationship between Sir Ian and my lady.”

“…How?”

The wife’s face turned white as a sheet. It was such an unexpected response. As he looked upon her not denying it, the steward’s heart burned pitch black.

If only she had said no, in her usual confident tone. Her attitude indicated what the servants had seen was correct.

“Why would you do that, my lady….”

“No, this makes no sense….”

“Knowing the master’s personality. You’ve made a mistake.”

“No, that’s not it! It’s not!”

However, Lady Lien completely misunderstood, taking his words to mean that the assassination attempt had been discovered rather than an affair. Her body shook violently as her mind went blank. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the ɴovᴇlꜰirᴇ.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

What to do? If the Count doesn’t die? What would happen to me?

If the Count didn’t die, she would. Even if she didn’t stop breathing, she would be bound here for life.

This was a clear fact. And the only one who could help her now was Ian. Lady Lien immediately dashed down the corridor.

Woof! Thud!

“My lady!”

“Damn it, Ian! Ian!”

“Wha-what’s the matter?”

“A carriage, no, ready a horse! Sir Ian!”

“My lady! You must not!”

The wife tumbled down the stairs as she shouted. Drawn by the sudden chaos, the servants who had been tidying up swarmed over. One moved to help the lady up but she violently shook off his hand, yelling.

“Bring me a horse!”

“My lady, you can’t do this!”

“Shut up! It’s do or die, what choice do I have‽ Get out of my way!”

Crash! Smash!

Decorative objects in the corridor fell and shattered as the wife desperately ran for the main gate. Pain shot through her bloodied knees as if they would give out.

But she knew.

If she stopped now, it would truly be the end.

Swish!

“My lady. Further disorder would be troubling.”

Just then, a knight grabbed the wife’s arm. He was one of the three knights residing in the estate. The wife had no color in her face as she panted for breath.

“So-someone, please….”

“Good gracious….”

“My lady, are you alright?”

“Everyone return to your quarters. No one is to leave until given permission.”

“Disperse!”

The servants worried about the lady yet retreated before the steward and knight’s shouts. Everyone lowered their heads as much as possible as they exited the corridor.

“Let go! I said let go! You dare lay your hands on me?”

“Forgive me, my lady. But if you continue like this, things will only get worse.”

“Nooooo! I hate this! I hate it!”

At the steward’s signal, the knight slung her over his shoulder. Her bare legs peeked out from under her skirt, unavoidably. Lady Lien kicked and screamed murderously, her shrieks echoing throughout the estate and reaching Clark’s ears.

“…My lady?”

Ian may have brought him as a means to send him back, but Clark had not received any message. He had simply been sitting in the old servant’s storage in the Merellof estate, eating porridge. With Ian already gone, no one paid any attention to Clark amidst Lady Lien’s chaos.

Creak.

Clark walked the familiar corridors and looked up the stairs. He had lived here for years. Even with his eyes closed, the estate’s structure was clear to him. He also knew very well that most of Lady Lien’s screams originated from her bedroom.

Creak.

With every heavy step, the wooden floor ominously groaned. He eventually reached the floor where the Count’s bedroom was located. There he met the steward and knight standing guard.

“Clark?”

“Return to your quarters.”

“The lady….”

“Go back.”

Woof! Thud!

At the same time, muffled sounds could be heard from inside. Clark impulsively tried to rush in but was blocked by the knight’s light gesture.

“Lien!”

Bang!

Was it because he heard that sound? The previously noisy bedroom briefly fell silent. Soon the door opened to reveal the Count with bloodshot eyes.

“…Clark?”

“Ah….”

There was no greater devil than his sweat-drenched appearance. Hearing the wife shriek Clark’s name, the Count felt like the blood was completely draining from his body.

“You whorish woman, just how many men have you been whoring around with‽ Ian? Clark? Both of them, what on earth….”

“It’s not…! I’ve told you so many times…!”

“Then why mention Clark’s name!”

Smack!

The Count mercilessly grabbed the woman by her hair. He grinned cruelly, alternating glances between her and Clark. He then turned to leave the door open in an obvious gesture for Clark to enter. Lady Lien shed tears as she was dragged along, looking at Clark.

‘Run.’

That was what she was saying. But, but….

Creak.

As if drawn in, Clark followed her into the bedroom. The worried steward and aloof knight. As he took a cigarette between his lips, the Count commanded.

“Behead anyone who leaves this room without my consent.”

“…Understood.”

“Do not let anyone interfere.”

Caw!

The bedroom door slammed shut. Neither the woman nor the slave would leave this room alive tonight. When the sun rose, the blood of either staining the wooden floor.

The Count swung his whip ferociously until both were drenched in sweat. The more Clark tried to shield the wife, the harder the Count brought the whip down upon his arms.

Crack! Crack!

“Ah!”

The moment the long whip wrapped around the wife’s neck and struck her cheek, Clark experienced his reason snapping. His body moved on its own accord against his will. With the letter knife on the table he stabbed the Count’s throat.

“Argh!”

Outside, the steward and knight turned their heads at the unfamiliar scream. Clark? Though confused, the Count’s order not to interfere guarded the door firmly. Between the gaps, the wife’s sobs could be faintly heard.

And finally, the time arrived for darkness to recede and the sun to rise.

The door that seemed as though it would remain shut forever opened, and the first to emerge was Lady Lien. Covered in blood, the origin unclear whether the Count’s or her own.

The wife slowly shuffled on, fingers tracing along the wall. Her traces lingered indistinctly.

***

Creak.

Upon alighting from his carriage, Ian immediately looked over the estate. The shocking atmosphere from the Count’s assassination still lingered strongly. Perhaps Ian felt so himself.

It seemed the news hadn’t yet spread to the village….

“Lord Ian? Please come in.”

An antsy servant led the way in front. Quietly avoiding the shattered decorative objects along the corridor, Ian headed upstairs.

In front of the room in question, three knights as well as the steward and some servants had gathered, awkwardly discussing something.

“Lord Ian has arrived.”

“Ah.”

The steward appeared to be quite out of sorts. He couldn’t even properly greet Ian. But exchange of pleasantries was needless anyway so Ian simply nodded and entered.

“You’ve come?”

“My word. My lady.”

The scene was madness. The plush, soft ivory rug was thoroughly soaked in blood while barely any intact object remained in the room. But what was more stunning was Lady Lien sitting on the sofa.

“Have a seat. Sorry about my state.”

“What happened here? How on earth did it….”

Lady Lien was still wearing the dress from last night’s dinner. To Ian’s eyes, he could see the blood seemingly hastily wiped away, leaving splotches on her fair skin.

“As you can see, it’s been chaotic.”

“And the Count? Is he dead?”

“A doctor is examining the corpse in the bedroom. It seems Clark grabbed a letter knife and stabbed the Count’s throat while he was being beaten by him.”

Phew, she breathed out cigarette smoke with a murmur. In just a single night, just the time it took for the moon to cross the sky, the world had changed. Ian pressed his palm to his forehead as he peered inside.

‘Good grief, how preposterous.’

What was the reason she sourced the secret drugs from the Hawan Kingdom, and schemed all this? It was solely to evade legal punishment.

“Greetings, Lord Ian. I am one of the three Merellof knights, Fuhler.”

Ian turned his head at this unfamiliar man’s greeting. He had curly brown hair, but the look in the lady’s eyes as she gazed upon him was less than kind.

“Were you the one who sent the letter?”

“Yes. There are some things I must verify.”

“Verify? With me?”

Ian furrowed his brows as if clueless. The lady merely stubbed out her cigarette on the table with a tired expression.

“We are men who swore our loyalty to Count Merellof. Revealing the circumstances of our lord’s death thoroughly is our responsibility and duty. As the three knights, it shall be our final mission to execute all those responsible for the Count’s demise.”

Will you look at these guys.

With his arms crossed, Ian raised his chin.

“So?”

“What is your relationship with Lady Lien Merellof?”

“…Huh?”

It should make sense, yet Ian felt his thoughts grind to a halt. They said Clark killed him, so were they suspecting Ian’s involvement?

But why on earth are they asking something so absurd?

“They’re suspecting an affair between us, Sir Ian. Specifically you and me.”

“Pfft!”

At the lady’s words, Beric burst into laughter. But the knights didn’t so much as blink, seeming perfectly serious. Ian rubbed his forehead with an awkward smile.

‘Bullsh*t….’

“What about Clark?”

“He’s being imprisoned in the underground dungeon.”

“Have him brought here.”

“I cannot allow that.”

The knight firmly refused Ian’s order. His brows knotted on their own. The lady who had been listening beside him commanded once more in a sluggish voice.

“Bring Clark.”

“Until the circumstances behind this incident are made clear, I cannot obey even the lady’s command.”

“And that is our situation as of now, Sir Ian.”

With the Count dead, she should have taken over as head of the estate until the next heir was decided. But the knights’ defiance had complicated matters.

Ian glanced the knights up and down with a murmur.

“What circumstances? It’s retribution for your master’s f*cked up personality. While he was dying you useless men could do nothing but chatter.”

He could guess why they were kicking up a fuss like this.

Even in Bratz’s case, countless factions had jumped in to try and take Dergha’s place. Morlin, Erica, followed by Gale, Ian, Cheonrye tribe, the adversarial Mariv and Romandro….

“Not only that, treating a concerned neighbor who rushed over this way so discourteously, I cannot find a shred of propriety. As it happens, there is an imperial advisor on our side, so I shall request to draw up a deposition regarding this incident.”

Ian immediately signaled Lady Lien with his eyes.

“My lady, I sincerely hope you dismiss those fools when tidying up the estate. They’ve been performing poorly.”

“Lord Ian!”

Swish!

As one knight protested loudly, it was Beric who stepped up.

Rather than answering with words, his reply came swinging his sword.

Gazing upon the Count’s corpse, wife, and knights, Ian contemplated. If they were to shove aside the lady and Count’s younger brother, occupying the estate instead, things could become quite tricky.

“Beric.”

“Hmm?”

It was as if Ian’s presence was an eyesore to the imperial palace.

“I suppose we ought to tidy things up here.”

“Here?”

Beric pointed his sword tip at the knights.

Should we tidy up those three bastards’ heads?

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