MBSE Chapter 04

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

A carriage that Mollin had arrived in was waiting at the main gate. As the old man removed his hat and greeted him, a servant brought over his cane. Ian also placed his hand on his chest and displayed his respect.

“Despite the mishap, hearing you say such words will greatly please my father.”

It was a formal and elegant gesture. A perfect posture without any sloppiness, like a teacher in charge of imperial etiquette. Mollin smiled once more, looking down at the child’s eyes. The deep green eyes were as clear as glass beads.

“You truly care for the marquis, Sir Ian.”

Is it sincere? No.

It was a question disguised as a compliment. A vague intention, whether mocking or probing, was uncertain. Mollin seemed to expect an answer, but Ian had no intention of satisfying the old man’s desire.

“Take care on your way.”

He merely maintained the minimal courtesy with an ambiguous smile.

Since he didn’t know the intent behind the words, he could only respond accordingly. However, Mollin seemed even more intrigued by Ian’s attitude.

“Then I shall see you next week.”

The adoption process was not something that could be completed in a single day.

Four times at one-week intervals. He would have to spend about a month with Mollin like this. Only then would a report be sent to the capital, and a dispatch would arrive again after a fortnight.

Either way, it meant that he had at least a couple of months if nothing unexpected happened. Ian confirmed the leeway given to him and let out a sigh of relief. Agile responses were ingrained in his body.

“Well then. Farewell.”

Creak.

The coachman opened the door for Mollin. He disappeared through the small window, maintaining eye contact with Ian until the end.

Only when the carriage was no longer visible did the overall appearance of the Bratz estate come into view.

‘Quite antiquated for a marcher lord.’

“Sir Ian, shall I escort you to your room?”

“No need. I think I should return to the reception room.”

When the servant standing behind him carefully asked, Ian shook his head. He needed to check how the aftermath of Chel’s incident was being handled.

Since he hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet, he couldn’t predict what consequences his power would bring.

So he had to see for himself.

He had to see with his own eyes and hear with his own ears.

“You go ahead.”

“Yes, I understand. But, Sir Ian!”

Ian turned his head at the servant’s call. Come to think of it, the nervous face looked somewhat familiar. It was the child who had endured Chel’s viciousness in the reception room.

“Is your hand alright?”

The servant held her slightly swollen hand and bowed deeply. It hadn’t been properly treated, but the heat seemed to have subsided.

“…Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

It wasn’t such a grand act of kindness.

As soon as the servant disappeared around the corner, Ian looked down at his own hand. There was something he needed to confirm.

‘I can feel mana.’

They said mana resonated with the soul, not the body. Even in an unfamiliar body, it seemed he could call upon his power. It was confusing since he had no knowledge of such cases, but…

‘At least that’s fortunate.’

It couldn’t be compared to his original body, but with training, he would be able to use mana much more easily. Even if the worst situation were to arise, as long as he had mana, he could at least avoid that fate.

Knock, knock.

Ian, who had already reached the reception room, was about to enter as he knocked on the door.

From inside, he heard not the voices of the marquis’s family but the idle chatter of unfamiliar servants. They seemed to be cleaning the messy floor.

“Oh my, what a situation this is.”

“I know, right? At the age of seventeen, no less.”

“Shh, be quiet. Milady instructed us. She said not to utter a word about it or we’ll be flogged.”

“If it had been Sir Ian who made the mistake, I would have believed it. Last time, he fainted after Young Lord nearly ripped out his hair. When they said he wet himself, I thought he had another accident from being beaten!”

The servants’ laughter rang out clearly. Ian eavesdropped through the crack in the door, concealing his presence. They seemed to have him firmly under their thumb, tsk tsk.

“But when I saw him coming out of the garden today, I was really surprised. His demeanor was so proper, he seemed even more graceful than Milady.”

“That’s because there were guests, so he was on his best behavior. Otherwise, would the marquis have let it slide? Blood doesn’t lie. Judging by how smooth his skin is, like his mother’s, he definitely has whore’s blood mixed in.”

“But I heard his mother wasn’t a courtesan. Why do you call her a whore?”

“True. If you think about it, it’s the marquis’s fault. Why mess with a well-off woman?”

“Well-off, my foot. Is sucking fingers for a living considered well-off?”

Creak.

Ian realized there was no more worth in listening and opened the door. The servants, who had been engaging in vulgar remarks, all froze.

“…Oh, um, Sir Ian?”

“Where have my parents and brother gone?”

Should they make an excuse or stay silent?

The servants were also addressing him respectfully and maintaining etiquette, but everyone knew about Ian’s lowly origins and that he would soon be sold to the Cheonrye tribe.

“Do I need to ask again?”

“Ah! My apologies! Milady and Young Master Chel have returned to their rooms, and the marquis headed to the main gate with the steward.”

If he went to the main gate, he must be belatedly seeing off Sir Mollin. He had been too flustered. Letting only Mollin and Ian see off the marquis after his grown son’s blunder.

He was undoubtedly worried about what scheme the cunning old man might have concocted.

‘We missed each other.’

“I see.”

As Ian calmly closed the door and left, the servants simultaneously let out sighs of relief and reprimanded one of the women.

“Oh, seriously! Bella! That mouth of yours is a problem.”

“Tch, what does it matter? He’ll be sold off in a couple of months anyway.”

“Watch your words. Do you want to get in trouble?”

It was a matter the marquis paid particular attention to. Wasn’t he in the midst of thoroughly cleansing Ian’s background for the sake of the truce?

Even if the palace didn’t say much since it was an internal affair, if the Cheonrye tribe found out, who knew what trouble they might stir up? There was a separate reason why all the mansion’s staff treated Ian preciously.

“Ah, Father.”

Ian spotted Marquis Derga returning from the far end of the corridor. He approached Ian with a deeply furrowed brow.

“Has Sir Mollin departed?”

“Yes. I saw the carriage he arrived in leave as well.”

“What did you talk about while walking together?”

“It was just trivial small talk. He did mention Young Master Chel’s mishap, but it was merely a worrisome concern.”

At the mention of Chel, Derga’s eyebrows furrowed even more, as if it was a blunder. Ian didn’t miss a single detail. Judging by the reaction, it was clear that Chel had kept silent about the golden eyes.

“…Go and prepare the carriage.”

The marquis instructed the steward, feeling his stress levels rise. Then he placed an ivory mouthpiece between his lips. Whether the child was present or not, he exhaled the strong cigarette smoke with relish.

Then, out of the blue.

“How did you know about that Viscount Fuhlen?”

It was a question that had lingered as he carefully recollected the luncheon. After all, a lowly bastard knew about a scholar from the capital that even he was unaware of. Ian made up an excuse without much thought.

“I overheard someone in the household mention it.”

“Whose words?”

“I’m not sure of the name.”

The child had only recently come from outside.

It was an improvised response based on the judgment that he couldn’t possibly know all the people in the mansion. It must have been quite plausible, as Derga filled in the blanks himself.

‘Chel’s tutor, perhaps? That man did say he graduated from Bariel University.’

Well, it wasn’t a particularly important detail.

Derga deliberately lowered his voice sternly.

“Next week, make no mistakes. If you gulp down the finger bowl water again, I’ll shove your head into a bucket.”

It seemed to be a mistake the child had made before Emperor Ian possessed him. Ian nodded without any additional comments. Derga took a drag of smoke and stared at Ian intently.

‘Hmm.’

He certainly took after his mother in terms of looks. When he first brought the child, he was drenched in tears and cried all day, so there was no chance to properly look at him. He didn’t particularly feel the desire to, either.

“Why are you doing that?”

If the adoption is handled well, he will surely be welcomed by the Cheonrye tribe for his appearance. Moreover, he’s only sixteen. He could even form a marriage alliance with the chief’s family. Though his fate upon crossing the border is uncertain.

Anyway, if things go smoothly, it will aid in the formality of the truce.

“Erase from your mind the mistake your brother made today.”

“Yes, I understand.”

It was already embarrassing to the lowly staff of the mansion, but if the Cheonrye tribe found out? It was obvious that the dignity of the next marcher lord would be made a mockery. By the time he had nearly finished his cigarette, the steward appeared with his coat.

“Marquis, the preparations are complete.”

“Let’s go.”

With that, the marquis turned away coldly.

Through the window, Ian confirmed him boarding the carriage. Judging by how the staff didn’t even report or see him off, it was clearly a secret outing.

“Tsk.”

He was a man of little significance. Ian thoroughly erased any thoughts about him from his mind and turned around. For now, it would be best to map out the entire mansion in his head. Or find Chel and firmly discipline him.

As he wandered around the vast mansion, he eventually reached the central kitchen. Servants and their families were gathered in groups, eating the leftover food from the back garden.

“Sir Ian?”

“Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing. I was just taking a stroll.”

How peculiar. Didn’t he usually act as if he wouldn’t come out even if a fire broke out? As the servants ate the scraps, Ian subtly furrowed his brows.

‘They’re not livestock, so why are they eating leftovers…?’

It was something that could never happen in the Bariel he was from. Who in their right mind would eat discarded food, unless they were from the lowest slums?

Separate from the overall improvement in living standards, it was a living habit that was taboo even in the slums after the outbreak of infectious diseases transmitted through saliva.

However, it seemed to be a familiar occurrence in the Bratz mansion, with no hesitation at all.

“Are you hungry? Shall I give you some?”

“Hey! How can you speak so casually to the young master?”

“Oh, my apologies.”

“No. No, it’s alright.”

The homeland of the Cheonrye tribe was in the middle of the scorching Great Desert.

The Bratz territory, which was closest to it, was also affected by its influence, so it could be considered a barren land compared to other regions. The farmland itself was not abundant.

Yet, due to being a border region, how many soldiers were stationed there? The balance between supply and demand had long been disturbed, so the lower classes were always starving.

“Then please eat.”

“Yes, please go ahead.”

Ian stepped aside to allow them to dine comfortably. But the more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed. A sense of discrepancy, perhaps? It was natural given the vast time gap between Emperor Ian’s era and the present, but even considering that, something felt missing.

‘What is it? What’s lacking…?’

“Excuse me, Sir Ian.”

At that moment, someone called out to him from behind. It was a girl around his age with braided black hair. She was one of the family members who had been eating earlier.

“What is it?”

“Well, I’m planning to go to the market in an hour.”

…Why was she telling him that? Ian diligently pondered under his kind smile.

What could it be? Could it be that Ian also handles market duties? Restocking the mansion’s supplies was a daunting task even for adults.

“Um, do you have any messages for your mother…?”

“Ah.”

As the girl fidgeted with her fingers and spoke, he understood her intention. She must have been conveying regards to Ian’s birth mother whenever she went out. Since she couldn’t read or write, she had to rely on people’s words.

‘Then that means I can’t leave the mansion.’

He was a precious sacrifice for the truce. He probably wouldn’t be able to leave the marquis’s estate on his own until the Cheonrye tribe arrived. With a single sentence, the girl reminded Ian of the shackles on his feet.