Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor - Chapter 73
The day of the Merellof butler always began the same way.
He would wake up, tidy the beddings, supervise the servants to ensure the division of morning tasks, and organize various correspondences to be taken to the office while breakfast was being prepared. All these tasks had to be completed before sunrise.
Knock, knock.
“Are you awake, Count?”
Upon hearing the Count Merellof’s response, the butler entered the bedroom. The room was divided into three sections, and deep inside, the Count was already neatly dressed, leaving his still-sleeping wife behind.
“The weather is certainly getting colder.”
“I’ll clean the fireplace.”
Count Merellof checked the correspondences laid on the tray. Most were formal letters for maintaining social relations.
“What’s this?”
“Oh. My apologies.”
What the Count held was a reply from Ian. Since the Count showed no interest in the celebration, it was part of the butler’s role to manage his public reputation.
“You’re unnecessarily diligent,” the Count muttered dismissively.
Suddenly, the Count’s motion halted. Ian had sent a reply not just to the Count, but also to the Countess. Without hesitation, the Count broke the sealing wax to read its contents.
“This is…”
His expression showed utter confusion, with his protruding eyebrow bones becoming more prominent. The butler sensed alertness in the Count’s fiercely narrowed eyes.
“A letter for Lien?”
“That… knowing that you had no plans to send a congratulatory message, Her Ladyship had sent it instead. Since Her Ladyship takes great care in supporting you from behind the scenes.”
Count Merellof stared at the letter laid on the table. The butler felt cold sweat running down his back, unable to believe that the day was starting this way.
“It seems she also sent a gift.”
“Yes, she selected unused items from the storeroom.”
“Personally?”
“…Yes.”
“She personally selected them and sent a congratulatory message? And Ian was quite pleased with it? Have they met separately?”
The butler nodded lightly but with certainty.
It was just a pile of unused scrap metal. The Count, being a noble, knew better that the exchange of courteous words did not always signify sincerity.
Rustle.
The sound of the Countess stirring in the innermost bedroom was unusually loud. It seemed not only the butler, but also the day was ill-omened for others.
“They have not, Count.”
“Not even when Ian was at the central mansion?”
“Well, they did briefly encounter each other when he was leaving, but it was very brief, and they hardly exchanged any words.”
The butler added desperately, almost like making excuses, but it seemed not to reach the Count’s ears. His already sallow complexion turned even more pallid, as if his blood pressure was visibly rising.
“Good morning.”
Just then, the Countess, dressed lightly, emerged from the inner bedroom. Yawning languidly like a cat, she snatched the letter from the Count’s hand.
“Why are you reading a letter addressed to me?”
“Look, Lien.”
“Let’s see what it says. Hmm. He genuinely likes it. Should I be happy or not? Hahaha.”
The Countess laughed off her husband’s visibly disturbed mood as if it didn’t concern her at all. The butler, determined not to witness any more, turned his head away, while the atmosphere in the bedroom twisted even further. It was a contrast between the utterly light-hearted and the heavily serious.
“Prepare the meal.”
“Yes, Count.”
“I feel like having venison steak today.”
“Understood, Madame. I will have it prepared.”
“But you said the same last time and didn’t bring it up, did you?”
“…I apologize. I’ll make sure it’s corrected.”
It was a fall season where the joy of harvest couldn’t be felt. The large estate always had an abundance of food, so there was no problem with kitchen operations, but ingredients that needed to be sourced from outside sometimes took more than a day to procure.
Especially something like venison, as was the case now.
Lady Merellof, sitting at the table, casually asked her husband,
“Darling, I heard that the people in Bratz are all growing Grula and eating it. They say it tastes surprisingly good?”
“Mixing with those beastly folks has turned them into beasts themselves. Is it because they have nothing else to eat?”
“We might be fine, but it’s different for those below us. Sir Ian suggested that we visit to express our gratitude. Should I go and see for myself?”
“To Bratz?”
Count Merellof’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, but his wife just nodded, as if it was no big deal.
“What else would I be going to?”
“Useless talk. Every year at this time, you start with the same complaints. No food, this and that. Soon, the caravan from Hawan Kingdom will arrive. Just wait until then. Why can’t everyone learn? Tsk, tsk.”
Why would they learn? The number of farmers decreased each year, and the number of villagers opening entertainment and lodging businesses only grew. Many relied solely on the caravan and did not prepare for winter.
‘…There are problems inside and out.’
The butler bowed his head and left the bedroom. Countess Merellof watched him go and smiled faintly, but said nothing more.
“Darling.”
Once the door was fully closed, Lien placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder and asked. The Count’s mood was still at rock bottom.
“When is the caravan from Hawan supposed to arrive?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Can’t I ask?”
“…I received word that they will depart in a month.”
“In a month. So, it would take them a month and a half to cross the mountains? No, maybe a month and a week…”
The Count’s eyes grew more fierce at his wife’s mutterings. She was always unpredictable, but recently it had become more extreme.
“I hope they arrive soon.”
With that, she quickly left the bedroom. A man wiping the windows in the corridor paused and looked towards the door. The woman gave him a look that was colder and more menacing than the cold.
“Clark. Make sure the windows are sparkling clean. We’ll have guests from Hawan Kingdom in a month.”
“…Yes, I understand.”
The man named Clark nodded and continued to clean the windows, repeating to himself. In a month, Hawan Kingdom departs. In a month, Hawan Kingdom departs…
* ♟ *
After Kakantir’s departure, Ian intensified his investigation into the Merellof family in his office. Knowing your enemy in battle was crucial. It was advantageous to know as much as possible about the Merellofs before making contact.
“But about Lady Merellof…”
“The lady?”
Romandro’s subordinate, flipping through reports, looked puzzled.
“We confirmed her name is Lien Merellof, but her origins are unclear.”
“You mean her family background?”
“Exactly, and also her social status before marriage. They’ve been married for three years now, but the wedding was so modest that many locals learned about it only later.”
Listening to Romandro and his subordinate’s conversation, Ian lifted his head. Even if it was modest for a count,
“It implies a significant disparity in status.”
“That’s what I think too. Perhaps she was a commoner?”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
Ian, recalling Countess Merellof’s enigmatic smile, shrugged his shoulders. It was clear that she was an outsider. And most importantly, knowing about the dripper meant she wasn’t from an ordinary background.
“Have we identified the caravan departing from the Hawan Kingdom?”
“It’s the Ilrak caravan, operating on a 5-year cycle. The caravan, including the caravan master, consists of about 100 people.”
“That’s not as large as I expected.”
“However, it’s a fixed route, so many rely on it for safety.”
Individual travelers or smaller caravans paid to join for safe passage. With their numbers exceeding fifty, the total count could be estimated between 150 to 200.
“Ilrak caravan will lead, followed by other caravans at intervals of two weeks.”
“Then it’s crucial to intercept them at the start.”
“If we offer protection, it would be quite easy for us.”
Nersarn commented. He slowly went through the documents, reading them meticulously as they were in Bariel language, which took him longer than the others.
“They will be a burden if they can’t respond to emergencies.”
“I agree. We should start aligning the dates. They’ll want to arrive before winter, so at the latest…”
“Ah, I know the date.”
Romandro’s subordinate excitedly raised his hand.
“In a month, departing from the Hawan Kingdom. Rumors say they’ll arrive after crossing the mountains.”
“Spread rumors? From where?”
“From Merellof.”
With the exact date known, Romandro and his subordinates cheered, encouraging each other. Only Ian remained silent and unsmiling.
“Is there a problem?”
“It takes only ten days to travel from here to the Hawan Kingdom.”
“No, no. That’s not the problem. I was wondering if there are any bandits around.”
Especially mountain bandits. A caravan means many mercenaries, but also many valuables. Informing them ahead could make them a target for bandits. If bandits interfere, it could disrupt the plan. It would be better to cross quietly and quickly.
“Hmm. Bandits. Maybe there aren’t any due to the aftermath of the battle?”
“And letting them know the expected arrival time is necessary for the estate to prepare.”
Ian nodded reluctantly. Right. It was important for both the caravan and Merellof, but irrelevant from Ian’s perspective.
“Alright. Let’s start preparing…”
Thud, thud, thud! Thud, thud! Thud!
Suddenly, there was a resounding vibration from the end of the hallway. Someone was approaching quickly, too loud to be a normal person.
While Romandro and his subordinates quickly reached for their swords, Ian, Nersarn, and Berrick calmly covered the documents.
Bang!
“Have you arrived?”
The first to greet was Beric.
“You lack manners.”
Nersarn lightly scolded her.
“Soo.”
“Ah, no! Why me!”
She trembled with clenched fists, her face flushed red. As soon as Kakantir returned to Cheonrye, Soo had been sent here.
“Quite the entrance upon arrival.”
“Beric! It was you, wasn’t it? You recommended me?”
“What power do I have to do that? Can’t you see? While everyone’s working at the table, I’m just lounging on the sofa.”
“Why! Why me? Huh? It’s already cold enough outside the desert, and now you want me to climb mountains? I don’t even know what those mountains look like!”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Shut it, Beric! I’m not in my right mind right now!”
Ian stood up to greet Soo. Gasping for breath, her eyes, looking up at him, were filled with reproach.
“Why do I have to go all the way to the Hawan Kingdom and infiltrate the caravan! Are there no other capable people here?”
She complained, as if to say, ‘you called me, who was idly enjoying life, for this? I should have known when Kakantir passed the meat to me on my plate. Hawan Kingdom, of all places!’
Ian smiled and nodded.
“Yes. We lack capable people. I couldn’t think of anyone more suitable than you. Sit down and catch your breath. I’ll explain the plan in detail. You must have heard the basics from Kakantir?”
At that, Soo pressed her forehead, unable to suppress her frustration.
“Ha, the basics. Very basic. Infiltrate the caravan and release the Grula poison.”