Margrave's Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 2

Kindly note that the prefix (-nim) refers to an honorific, of calling someone with respect. In this novel, it can refer to Master, Miss, Lord, and other respectable callings.

The House of Bratz is crude, even for nobility.

This was the widespread evaluation of the Bratz family in the social circle. It was probably because they were bordering a barbarian tribe among the many border territories.

Wars used to be unending in the distant past, but recently, various interactions had increased due to superficial peace treaties.

Master Ian, your meal manners are exceptional.

Ian, who had been quickly chewing his meat, regained his composure at the old mans compliment. Was it sarcasm?Was he eating in a messy manner because he was starving? Ian cleared his throat unconsciously, feeling slightly stung, but the old mans compliment was nevertheless sincere.

Your son has wonderful manners. It must be the excellent teachings of Count Dergha-nim.

Please dont mention it. Sir Molrin.

The head of House Bratz, Count Dergha, managed to keep a ceremonial expression despite the surprise of seeing his sons demeanor change in mere seconds. Dergha glanced at Ian and responded, After all, he carries Bratz blood. Please, do convey this to the emperor.

Of course, Count-nim.

At their cryptic words, Ian stopped chewing.

The emperor? Are they talking about me?

No, wait. Did they just mention Bratz?

Come to think of it

His hands holding the fork and knife were too small and thin. The view from his seat was also low.

Unable to understand the situation, Ian swallowed his food and looked for his glass of wine.

Ah.

The glass contained not wine but a beverage. Moreover, reflected in the round glass was not his face, but the face of an unfamiliar boy. Ian nearly spat it out, momentarily forgetting all manners.

*Cough*!

As he grabbed a napkin with his cough, the boy sitting across him snickered.

Tsk, tsk. Look at that, acting all classy.

Chel, you should be helping your younger brother when he makes a mistake.

The boy named Chel pursed his lips in displeasure. The countess, Mary, firmly gripped Chels hand under the tablecloth and reprimanded her son.

This wasnt just a simple meal.

Sir Molrin was a civil servant sent from the central royal palace, and he was in the middle of checking whether Ian was fit to be part of House Bratz.

Displaying a friendly smile to Chel, Molrin then turned his focus back to Ian. Master Ian, Ive heard that you have been studying philosophy recently.

At Molrins sudden question, both Count Dergha and the Countess showed confused expressions.

Ian couldnt even write his name yet. As a child brought from outside the mansion by the count, he hadnt received proper education. Wasnt he the same kid who was guzzling the finger bowl¹ water just at the start of the meal?

Hes not yet at a level where he can discuss it.

The Count hastily intervened, pretending to reprimand Ian. Despite this, his eyes were unconsciously sharp as he looked at Ian.

Foolish boy. After I told you to memorize it.

There had been a crash course in preparation for Molrins questions, but it seemed the little boy had already forgotten everything. The old man did not retreat, pushing forward with a smile.

Academics are always like that. It solidifies when ideas collide. Ian-nim, what have you been learning recently? Youre already sixteen and not attending school

The old man, nearly eighty, was both affectionate and firm. It was only natural for a man who had withstood a lifetime in the central administrative office where talent was constantly drained.

With things coming to this, even the Count couldnt back down. All eyes turned to Ian.

Hmm.

Ian cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the napkin. As everyone at the table had anticipated, Ian was confused.

But not because of Molrins question, but because he realized this place was the backyard of the House of Bratz.

In the House of Bratz?

In the body of a boy hes seeing for the first time?

I suspected that Naums space-time magic might be involved, but I could not be sure. Space-time magic was about opening a passage connecting one point in time to another, inherently subject to location constraints.

In other words, it required being in that place.

But wasnt my last memory being in an underground dungeon? Moreover, I had never heard of transferring to another body.

Master Ian?

Ah. I apologize.

Prompted by Molrin, Ian answered reflexively with grace. It was a habit he picked up at the royal palace. A smile to convey his intention, even while focusing on the conversation. The Margrave and his family had never seen Ian smile like that before.

Philosophy Philosophy

Ian seemed to be pondering, murmuring a few times.

May I answer on his behalf? Administrative Officer Molrin-nim.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Chel, his stepbrother, interjected.

It was already maddening enough that Ian, who had arrived from outside, was the main character at this precious dinner. Let alone that he entered a counts house with a lowly bloodline. It was natural for him, as the young master of the house, to be upset.

In his foolish and pitiful attempt to steal the adults attention from Ian to himself, even under the sharp gaze of Lady Mary, Chel faltered.

Chel. Officer Molrin asked Ian.

The countess was silently pleading.

My son. Please keep your mouth shut. All of this is for your sake. We need to bring that wretched child of a commoner into the counts house for you to survive.

I am fond of Lord Fuhlens.

Fuhlen?

In the midst of the commotion, Ian spoke softly. Whether his appetite had fallen off or not, he had tidily set his utensils aside.

The face of Count Dergha turned deathly pale. It was a name he was hearing for the first time. Instead of pretending not to know, he should just admit it! What kind of nonsense is he spouting?

Yes. Of course, the papacy may not approve of him, but isnt the humanism that Prof. Fuhlen advocates pose a very important question? With humans at the center, pondering the truths created by humans could help sketch the image of a true monarch.

It was purely his personal preference.

To Ian, rather than philosophy or humanities, the survival of the people who could starve any day was more important. Having just enough formality in his study of philosophy, he mentioned a successful scholar he could remember.

Count Dergha rolled his eyes to catch Molrins reaction. The old man seemed quite shocked and stopped for a moment, but then he leaned towards Ian.

How do you know Lord Fuhlen?

Pardon?

But the one who answered was not Ian, but Count Dergha.

Molrin chuckled and repeatedly shook his head. Oh dear. I must have assumed that being in the countryside, news from the capital might be delayed. My apologies to you, Count Dergha-nim, and Master Ian.

No, not at all.

Molrin had realized that the Count did not know Fuhlen. If he had known, he would have furrowed his brow in apparent distaste rather than having that foolish expression.

Prof. Fuhlen is the youngest son of the Viscount of Hawkman, who just had his coming of age ceremony. Although he is young, hes an exceptional talent among talents, having entered Bariel University with top honors. Not long ago, he brought up humanism during an academic debate at the royal palace, causing quite a stir.

The news being delayed due to the change, was expected.

After all, it took a solid fortnight by carriage to get from the capital to the Counts domain. A fact that not even the Dergha, let alone anyone else, was aware of.

Everyone turned to look at Ian in surprise, and Ian himself was also secretly astonished.

Lord Fuhlen just had his coming-of-age ceremony? Didnt he seem to be over a hundred years old?

Not only was he in a strange body, but it seemed he had nearly traveled back in time by 100 years. It was a very, incredibly surprising situation, but he didnt show any outward signs. Thanks to his dignified bearing as an emperor.

So, you like Lord Fuhlens philosophy. But you just mentioned that the Vatican (papal state) does not welcome it. What does that mean?

Humanism is the view that theres nothing more important than human beings, so the Papal States, which worship God, wouldnt be thrilled with it.

My, my..

It was a perfect response.

Molrin felt the fatigue that had accumulated over the fortnight melting away.

I feel it was worth coming all this way. I didnt know the new heir of the Bratz Countdom was this intelligent. The Emperor will undoubtedly be pleased.

The fact that a noble adopted a foster son wasnt extraordinary. These noble individuals, with all their virtues, were hardly capable of keeping their pants on; bringing home illegitimate children was hardly a scandal. Whether male or female, it was just a happening that surfaced in the dull social world every so often.

However, Molrins following words were somewhat strange.

And the Cheonryeo (Heaven/Heavenly) Tribe will also welcome it.

Cheonrye Tribe?

Ian recalled the familiar name. The Cheonrye Tribe referred to the barbarians east of the border. Theyd welcome his brilliance?

If so.

It seems Ive hit the nail on the head.

A foster son to be sent to the border-adjacent Cheonrye Tribe in return for maintaining peace.

I roughly understand the situation now.

The Count, with a wicked smile, placed his hand on the back of Ians hand. Now that he understood the situation, he looked like a devil wearing the disguise of a kind father.

Ian. I have no doubt that you will become a symbol of peace.

Peacekeeping was an official agreement.

Although the custom was to send the biological child of each head, the barbarian Tribes beyond the countdom were fickle creatures that could change their minds at any time.

In fact, the Counts own second brother also died crossing the border for peacekeeping when he was young. They said it was an accident, but the truth could not be determined.

Given this, how could he send his only bloodline, Chel? He hurriedly brought in Ian, who he hadnt paid attention to before, to adopt him as an heir.

The imperial palace must have noticed this, of course.

However, no matter what, they couldnt just send anyone, so they were testing Ians intelligence through Molrin.

The smarter the child is sent, the more diplomatic deterrent power it will have, and it will be beneficial for both sides.

Of course, in the countdom, the autonomous rights of the Bratz family took precedence, so it was partially a ceremonial procedure. But it could also be seen as a half-measure to keep provincial nobles in check from the royal palace.

Aah.

Ian instantly grasped the situation.

Even before his death, the Bratz family had gone through this ritual several times, exchanging formalities.

Eventually, they were tragically wiped out by the Cheonrye tribe.

The setback (causing the event) was the fortnight it took for the central news to reach the central government. By the time other lords and the emperor during this time arrived with their armies, it was already too late.

Was he my great-grandfather?

That was the major incident involving Ians great-grandfather.

The emperor drove out the Cheonrye Tribe and divided the territory among the nobles and knights who had fought alongside him, thus concluding the incident.

Ian?

Countess Mary called Ian. Seemingly urging him to respond to the Counts words. In other words, a prompt to remember his primary duty.

Ian faintly smiled and once again moistened his mouth with water. He wasnt sure why, but he admitted one thing. Ian hadnt died. He had been resurrected in the form of a child, for reasons he couldnt fathom.

Yes. Father.

At Ians crisp response, Count Dergha seemed to smile in satisfaction. Except for Chel, everyone laughed heartily, blessing the peace that Ians presence would bring.

Alright. Lets eat.

Only then did Dergha continue with his meal in relief.

Ian looked around for a moment to feel the reality. Above all else, the thumping heartbeat was what reminded him that he was alive.

I have no idea whats happening.

If this was the result of Naums magic, there was only one way to verify it. That is, to go to the royal palaces annex and search for traces of Naums magic.

However, it was a long distance that took more than a fortnight from Bratzs countdom to the capital, and for a child soon to be sold to the desert, it was a world that seemed unreachable forever.

Yes. It was such a world.

A finger bowl is a bowl of water that dinner guests use for rinsing their fingers.[]