Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor

Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Ian, with his arms crossed, paced around the room, perplexed by the unfolding situation.

Beric lay half-unconscious on the floor, while an agitated Countess Merellof was restrained on a sofa, maintaining her dignified posture despite the circumstances.

What on earth is this

Romandro, squatting down, inspected the covered powder case and its contents. Given that Beric had fainted immediately upon smelling the powder, Hannah had promptly covered it with a glass lid.

Countess, it seems we have a lot to discuss.

We need an explanation from you that makes sense from start to finish. Otherwise, we both might find ourselves in a difficult position.

Its just a drug. Nothing serious, why all this fuss?

Countess Merellof questioned, showing her bound wrists. Indeed, Hannah had tied them neatly and securely.

In truth, if it were genuinely just a drug, it wouldnt have been a major issue. Drugs were a common indulgence among the decadent nobility, especially at parties, and even more so in remote areas.

This isnt a drug.

However, Hannah, crouched beside Romandro, immediately refuted.

While drugs come in various types, they usually have a yellowish hue or are coarser. But this one, at first glance, could be mistaken for fine powder because of its white and delicate appearance. Moreover, Ive never heard of anyone fainting just from smelling a drug.

That was Hannahs assertion. Ian turned to Countess Merellof, prompting her to explain. She looked at Hannah incredulously.

Who is she?

As you can see, someone who knows a lot about many things in our household.

At Ians description of her as family, Hannah beamed with pride.

Countess Merellof then fell silent again. Ian signaled Romandro and Hannah to leave the room for a moment. It seemed impossible to have an open conversation with too many people around.

Ill go get a wet cloth for Beric.

Oh? Oh, okay. Ill also step out for a bit

The perceptive pair quickly exited Lady Marys room. With the door closed, only Berics labored breathing could be heard. Ian pulled a chair in front of the Countess and sat down.

Countess Merellof. The more I think about it, the more irregularities I find.

Thats because its just

Lets talk openly. Ill go through everything that comes to mind. It seems youre aware of the Dripper. Am I correct?

Specifically, its value.

Countess Merellof bit her lip and sighed deeply, clearly hiding something. Ian carefully studied her face, then decided to take a guess.

Are you by any chance from Raza Mountain?

What did you say?

Raza Mountain was speculated to be the origin of the Drippers creation. She stared at Ian incredulously, as the implication of being from Raza Mountain meant

Im asking you if youre from the Dera tribe.

Youre insane. Do I look like a mole?

Given your knowledge of the Dera tribes appearance, it seems you are indeed from that region.

Raza Mountain was located directly opposite Bratz, relative to the central region. Before inventions like the Dripper gained attention, even locals werent aware of such a mountain. It was a place unknown and unreachable to those outside the nearby area.

I am, I am

The Countess stuttered as she glared at Ian.

I am their friend.

Friend with whom? The Dera tribe? Thats impossible.

The Dera tribe was known for being reclusive, avoiding external contact. They spent their lives underground, constantly inventing and breaking down inventions.

Its true. I was born and raised nearby. My mother was a dryad.

Ians mouth fell open slightly at this unexpected confession.

A dryad? As in the same dryads Im familiar with?

Yes. The ones bound to trees by fate.

Countess Merellof spoke calmly about her lineage from a tree nymph. Her unblinking eyes suggested she wasnt joking.

But I chose not to follow my mothers destiny. Its a blessing. The idea of consuming the body of a loved one and being rooted in one place for life is horrifying.

Dryads were known among the fae as dangerous beings. Famous for their capricious and cruel nature, they absorbed their human lovers to keep them forever, a testament to their extreme behavior.

I could never understand my mother. So, I cut down the tree and escaped. I didnt even have time to tend to my fathers petrified corpse.

The Countess reminisced, looking out the window. As she chopped the tree, the forest echoed, the ground shook, birds flew off, and animals howled. Perhaps it was her mothers screams.

Is that how you ended up here?

Yes. Theres more to it, though. I was captured by a merchant guild and sold. Ironically, the first people I met after leaving the forest were slave traders. Looking back, it might have been my mothers final curse. Could I have a cigarette, please?

The Countess gestured with her fingers. Ian, a non-smoker, opened the door and looked for Romandro. He hadnt gone far and quickly approached, startled.

Romandro, a cigarette, please.

Oh? Here, wait, I have one.

Thank you.

Bang!

The door closed harshly behind Ian. Romandro scratched his head awkwardly, though Ian was unaware of his discomfort.

Here you are.

Thank you, Lord Ian.

Countess Merellof exhaled a cloud of smoke with a sigh.

So, to answer your earlier question, yes. I was aware of the Drippers value. I didnt know its purpose, but the Dera tribe doesnt make useless things. But how did you know about it, Sir Ian?

I picked up bits and pieces here and there.

You seem to know too much for just bits and pieces.

Her decision to gift the Dripper was half impulsive, half intentional. The moment she saw it in the warehouse, she instinctively reached for it, knowing that if it was made by the Dera tribe, it must be useful.

Countess, were you also behind spreading the guilds arrival schedule throughout the territory?

Why? Is that important?

I suspect youre trying to help me.

Funny, Sir Ian. Thats not something to be suspicious of, but to be grateful for.

It depends on your intention.

At Ians words, Countess Merellof slightly lifted her skirt, revealing bruised ankles, scraped calves, and scabbed knees.

Ian frowned and looked away.

Shall I show you more?

No, thank you.

Count Merellof, or rather my husband, is not sane. Marrying a woman bought from a slave guild to be a Countess, says it all.

Hence, the marriage was kept a secret. Marys disdainful behavior towards her now made sense.

Does the Count know you have Dryad blood?

No. I resemble my father more.

Still, blood doesnt lie. Her ethereal beauty, slower biological clock, longer lifespan, and enhanced physical abilities all proved her Dryad heritage.

I cant divorce my husband, and I dont want to spend decades here. The place I end up after fleeing my mothers forest is here.

So?

Instead of answering, Countess Merellof looked at the lying Berrick. So, she needed that. Ians expression changed as he grasped her wrist.

Is it poison?

No, its a new sleep-inducing hallucinogen circulating in the Hawan Kingdom. Taken continuously for a month, it causes apnea during sleep. But I never heard of someone reacting like that just from the smell.

Youre sure about this?

I am, and so was Lady Mary. She must be having a good dream by now.

A new drug that induces hallucinogenic effects and gradually consumes the body from within. It was clear why she needed to acquire the drug secretly. If Count Merellofs death became suspicious, she needed to avoid autopsy potions.

This is insane. Lady Mary was using this too?

Im not sure if she used it. Initially, it seemed intended for Dergha. But she must have realized its better to use it on herself.

Why?

Why? Sir Ian, your very existence is the reason.

Ian, an illegitimate child brought from outside. A result of Derghas numerous indiscretions. Ian suddenly remembered Marys haggard appearance in the secret underground room. It was undoubtedly withdrawal symptoms from the drug.

Countess Merellof exhaled deeply, along with a plume of smoke.

Sir Ian, I detest the name Merellof. How is my current situation any different from my mother, who was bound to one place?

Her action of trying to kill her husband was ironically similar to her mothers. Was this the inescapable fate she couldnt turn away from?

I just want the freedom to choose my own destiny.

But the Count has a brother, doesnt he?

If Count Merellof were to die, the next heir to the estate wouldnt be her but his brother.

It doesnt matter. As long as I can choose where I belong.

Besides, at this rate, she would likely die before the Count.

Ian stared at her silently, contemplating. Their territories were neighbors, but they were essentially rivals, each eyeing the others throat for territorial expansion.

I have a proposition.

Countess Merellof made the first move, extending her bound wrists as if asking to be untied.

An enemys enemy is a friend, so theres no reason for Sir Ian and me not to join forces. If you help me, or rather, turn a blind eye, I will support you as much as I can with the tribute.

As much as you can? How much?

Its difficult to say exactly.

Outside, the day had turned to night. The time for Countess Merellof to return home had long passed, and now the question was whether sending her back would be to Ians advantage.

Bang! Crash!

At that moment, a commotion erupted outside.

Ian slowly opened the door to assess the situation. A strange man was having a dispute with the servants.

Are you joking? Why cant I see the madam?

Because shes having an important discussion with His Lordship Ian right now

I have something to say to her. Its suspicious that you wont even relay a message. Move aside.

No, you cant!

Move! What have you done to the Countess?!

Youre calling that a conversation? If anyone did something, it was your lady to us!

It was Countess Merellofs attendant causing trouble. Overdue for her return and with no word from inside the mansion, he had barged in.

Hey.

Ian called out to him quietly.

The Countess is busy right now. Please wait a bit longer.

But the attendant, heedless of the situation, charged towards where Ian was. Then, spotting the Countess with her wrists tied, his eyes flipped in rage.

What on earth is this!

Clark! Wait a moment!

Clark, rushing towards Ian. The servants tried to stop him in shock, but they were too late. Ian grabbed Clarks wrist as it reached for him and released his magic.

Zing!

Boom!

Huff!

Clark!

Countess Merellof hurried to the fallen Clark, crying out in alarm. She held the trembling Clark in her arms, worried. Everyone looked down at her in disbelief, and then Beric, still in a semi-conscious state, mumbled in his sleep.

Making a fuss and collapsing