Ian the Illegitimate Son Was an Emperor

Chapter 4

Fetters

“It was an honor to meet you today, Lord Ian.”

Mollin’s coach was stationed outside the main gate, waiting for him. As the old man lifted his hat and said his farewell, a servant brought him his cane.

Ian put his hand on his chest to show his respect and said, “I am sure that my father will be pleased with your words, given the unfortunate incident that just occurred.”

The gesture was formal yet elegant. The teenager’s posture was so perfect that he could have even taught etiquette to the royal family. Mollin looked down into the eyes of the boy once again and smiled. The boy’s dark green eyes shone like glass beads.

“You really care about the margrave, don’t you, Lord Ian?”

Did Mollin mean it? No, he did not. It was a question veiled beneath praise. Whether the man was being sarcastic or inquisitive remained unclear. The aide was expecting an answer, but Ian was not about to satisfy him.

“Please take care.”

He showed only the bare minimum courtesy, accompanied by a cryptic smile. After all, such a vague question called for an equally vague answer. It seemed, though, that Ian’s attitude had further roused Mollin’s curiosity.

“Then I shall see you next week.”

Naturally, the procedure for joining the noble family of House Vratz could not be completed in a day. Ian would have to meet with Mollin once a week, holding four such meetings over a month. Only then would Mollin send his report to the capital, and it would be another fortnight before the messenger came back with a response. That gave Ian a couple of months, provided that nothing went wrong. He breathed a sigh of relief at the reprieve—he was accustomed to reacting swiftly.

“Well, then, so long.”

The coachman opened the door for Mollin. The aide kept eye contact with Ian through the small opening in the window until the very last moment. Once the coach was completely out of view, Ian was able to take in the whole of the Vratz Manor.

For a margrave’s manor, it is quite quaint.

“Lord Ian, will you be returning to your room?” the servant standing behind him asked cautiously.

“No, I should go back to the sitting room,” the young man replied, shaking his head.

He had to find out what had happened to Chel. Since his situation remained unclear to him, he could not predict the outcome of his actions. He had to personally observe the consequences with his own eyes and ears.

“Go ahead.”

“Yes, my lord. But… uh… Lord Ian?”

He turned his head at the servant’s call. Come to think of it, the hesitant face seemed somewhat familiar. It was the servant abused by Chel in the sitting room earlier.

“How is your hand?”

Holding her slightly swollen hand in her other, the servant bowed to him. It seemed that the condition of her hand was not too serious, though it had not been properly treated.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Ian had done the bare minimum to intervene, after all. As soon as the servant disappeared around the corner, Ian looked down at his hand. There was something he had to check.

I can feel the mana.

Given that mana resonates within the soul and not the flesh, he seemed to be able to summon his power even from a stranger’s body. He was still at a loss, though, for he had never heard of a case like his.

Still, it is better than nothing.

Although the mana within him was incomparable to that of his original body, he would be able to utilize it with training. Even if the worst came to pass, he would be able to survive as long as he had mana. Having arrived in front of the sitting room, Ian was about to knock on the door and enter when he heard the voices of servants instead of those of the Vratz family members. They were cleaning the mess Chel had left behind on the floor.

“Ha. Seriously, what the hell is all this?”

“Tell me about it. He’s seventeen, for goodness’ sake.”

“Shh. Be quiet. The margravine warned us never to speak of this. Be careful if you don’t want to be punished.”

“It would be more credible if Lord Ian was the one who made this mess. Last time, he fainted after the young master tore out his hair. When I heard that someone had wet himself, I assumed Lord Ian had had his hair ripped out again.”

The sitting room rang with the servants’ laughter. Ian hid himself behind the door and continued to eavesdrop. It seemed that Chel had hounded his half-brother within an inch of his life.

“He was amazing, though, out in the garden today. He seemed even more well-mannered and elegant than the margravine herself.”

“That was because he was on his best behavior for the guest. Otherwise, his lordship would have let him have it. Blood always tells. From the way he looks so slick, just like his mother, you can tell that he has a tramp’s blood in him. I’m telling you.”

“But his mother was not a courtesan. Why do you say she is a tramp?”

“True. When you think about it, it’s his lordship’s fault. He violated some woman who was doing well on her own.”

“Doing well on her own? She could barely make ends meet.”

Deciding that he had heard enough, Ian opened the door. The servants who had been maliciously gossiping stopped in their tracks.

“Ah, um, Lord Ian?”

“Where are my parents and my brother?”

Should they make their excuses, or not? Although the servants were always courteous to Ian, they were also aware that he was lowborn and that he was about to be sent away as a hostage to the Chunryeo tribe.

“Do I need to ask again?”

“Ah, I’m sorry. My lady and Lord Chel retired to their rooms. His lordship headed to the main gate with the butler.”

If the margrave went to the main gate, it must have been to see off Sir Mollin, albeit belatedly. Flustered at the mishap of his almost grown son, Derga had made the mistake of sending Ian alone to see off the aide. He must have been worried about what new faults the cunning old man would find in Ian.

We must have taken different routes.

“All right, then.”

After Ian left, stolidly closing the door behind him, the servants heaved sighs of relief while rebuking one woman in particular.

“Oh, seriously! Bella! You and your big mouth!”

“Ha, so what? The kid will be gone in a couple of months.”

“Watch what you say! Do you want to be reprimanded?”

The margrave was known to be especially sensitive about this issue. After all, he was carefully rebranding Ian’s identity for the armistice. The palace might not condemn the actions of its subjects, but the Chunryeo tribe might raise an outcry if they found out about Ian’s heritage. There was a reason all the servants in the manor were being respectful toward him.

“Ah, Father.”

Ian sighted Derga turning the corner at the far end of the corridor. With a frown on his face, he approached Ian.

“Has Sir Mollin left?”

“Yes, I stayed until his coach was out of sight.”

“What did you talk about with him?”

“It was just small talk. He did say something about Chel’s mishap, but it was merely out of concern.”

At the mention of Chel’s name, Derga furrowed his brows in frustration even more. Ian took careful notice. From his reaction, it was evident that Chel had kept quiet about his golden eyes.

“Go and prepare the coach,” Derga gave a curt order to the butler, getting more stressed with each second.

He placed a jade cigarette holder between his teeth. Disregarding the child standing before him, he blew out a plume of smoke.

Then he suddenly asked, “How do you know about Viscount Phyllen?”

The margrave had begun to feel suspicious while thinking over the luncheon after their guest had departed. How had this lowborn bastard known of a scholar in the capital who was unknown even to him? Without much thought, Ian came up with an answer.

“I heard someone in the manor talking about him.”

“Who?”

“I do not know their name.”

The child had only been living in the manor for a short while, so Ian had surmised that he would not be expected to know everyone by name. Easily convinced by his lie, Derga filled in the blanks himself.

Was it Chel’s tutor? He is a graduate of Variel College.

Well, that did not matter.

Derga lowered his voice rather menacingly, “Do not make a mistake next week. If you drink from the finger bowl again, I will stuff your head in a chamber pot.”

Evidently, the child had made a mistake before Emperor Ian had come into his body. Ian nodded his head silently. Holding the smoke in his mouth, Derga gazed down at Ian.

Hmm.

He was a looker, just like his mother. When the child was first brought to the manor, he had been covered in filth and crying all day long, so Derga had not had a chance to take a close look at him. To be fair, he had not wanted to.

“Is there something else?”

Once the matter of the family register was resolved, the Chunryeo tribe would welcome him for his looks alone. What was more, he was only sixteen. He could even marry into the family of the tribal chief. Whether he would survive the border crossing was another matter. All in all, he might be useful in cementing the superficial armistice.

“Forget the mistake made by your brother today.”

“Yes, I will.”

The fact that the servants of the manor knew about it was embarrassing enough. If the Chunryeo found out about it, the dignity of the next margrave would be severely undermined. When the margrave had smoked his cigarette down to a stub, the butler appeared with his coat.

“My Lord, the coach is ready.”

“Let us go.”

Derga turned around indifferently. Through the window, Ian watched him getting into the coach. The servants, however, had not gathered to see him off, so it was evident that he was leaving clandestinely.

“Hm…” Ian muttered.

The man was not worth consideration. Ian turned around, banishing all thoughts of the margrave from his head. The first thing to do was to draw a mental map of the manor so he would know how to navigate it going forward. Better yet, he should see Chel and keep him in check. With that thought in mind, Ian wandered around the vast manor and finally found himself in the central kitchen. The servants and their families were gathered together to eat the leftovers from the luncheon.

“Lord Ian?”

“Do you require anything?”

“No, it is all right. I was just taking a walk.”

That was strange. Usually, he kept to his room and would have stayed there even if a fire broke out. Watching the servants gobbling the leftovers, Ian grimaced imperceptibly.

Why are they eating leftover scraps as if they were livestock?

It was something that would have never happened in the Variel of his time. Who would eat leftovers, except perhaps the poor living in the slums? Apart from the overall rise in the standard of living, eating leftovers was prohibited—even in the slums—after a contagious disease spread by saliva had broken out. At the Vratz Manor, however, it seemed to be the usual practice.

“Are you hungry? Do you want some?”

“Hey! How dare you suggest such a thing to the young master?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that is all right.”

The lands of the Chunryeo were situated in the center of the Great Desert. The Vratz Margravate, lying right next to it, was mostly barren because it was affected by a similar climate—there were just not enough agricultural lands. On top of that, the margravate housed many armies to defend the borders. The balance between supply and demand had long been broken, and the servants were always starving.

“Carry on.”

“Yes, my lord. Please excuse us.”

Ian left to let them eat in peace, but the more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. Something felt out of place. Even allowing for the large gap in time between now and the time of Emperor Ian’s rule, something still felt off.

What is it? Something is missing…

“Excuse me, Lord Ian.”

At that moment, someone called him from behind, and he turned to find a girl about his age with braided black hair. She was one of the servants who had been eating in the kitchen.

“What is it?”

“Um, I am going to the market in an hour.”

Why was she telling him this? Wearing a kind, blank smile on his face like a mask, Ian racked his brain for an explanation. What was the meaning of it? Was he expected to help out with the shopping? Stocking up groceries was taxing work, even for grown adults.

“Um, if you have a message to send to your mother…”

“Ah.”

He finally understood the meaning behind her words. This servant must have passed on Ian’s message to his mother whenever she went out shopping. It could only be sent by word of mouth, since they could neither read nor write.

That means that I cannot leave the manor.

After all, he was the precious sacrifice for the armistice. Ian would probably never be able to leave the manor until the Chunryeo tribe came to collect him. With just a few words, the girl had reminded him of the fetters that bound him.