Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Brooch
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“What is this plea about?”
“It’s been a full week since we arrived here, but aside from coming and going to the mansion, we haven’t been able to go out anywhere else.”
So? Deruga responded with his expression without realizing it. But everyone could guess what would come next. Ian bit his lower lip lightly and swallowed a cheer.
“So, if you permit it, I’d like to ask Young Master Ian to show us around the territory. I know the Count and Madam are busy, so I hesitate to ask. Haha.”
Mac and Drgor, who had been listening quietly from the side, chimed in to help. It was very natural, with perfect timing.
“That’s a great idea! Let’s have lunch together too. Sharing a meal while discussing academics will be even more enjoyable. Right, Drgor?”
“Um…….”
The Madam hesitated about interrupting but ultimately stayed silent. It was too burdensome to have three unfamiliar men guide her. Drgor replied as if he hadn’t heard her.
“Of course. Besides, didn’t Sir Ian live outside until just recently? You must know some fun things we don’t.”
Drgor’s “we” included the outsiders like them, referring to the people of Count Deruga’s household. It implied: Do you know the alleys of the common folk? This is something only Ian can do, so don’t interfere.
“Ahem.”
Deruga looked extremely flustered. He rolled his eyes, unable to even swallow the wine in his mouth, thinking of a reason to refuse.
But he wasn’t a baby anymore—what reason was there to not let a grown boy go outside? Moreover, they’d added the very wholesome purpose of an academic discussion.
“Coming to the mansion frequently isn’t proper guest etiquette. If you allow it, we’ll host you at our lodgings. The hired coachman is very kind.”
Molin put the final period on it. Ian, who had been watching the situation quietly, spoke up. They were pulling from the front, so he had to push from behind.
“Lord Molin, where are your lodgings?”
“Near the park in District 3 of Portroga.”
“Ah, Portroga?”
“You seem to know it well.”
“Well, since I was born and raised here.”
It was an ambiguous answer open to interpretation. Even if the real bastard Ian had said it, Emperor Ian had no idea what area Portroga was. But since Molin had specified “park,” he could bluff his way through.
“Then that’s even better. Strolling through the park and philosophizing sounds nice. The sunlight is so warm these days, isn’t it? I saw what looked like rowboats on the small lake, but as an old man, I couldn’t bring myself to ride one. If Sir Ian helps, I might muster the courage.”
Molin winked with a smile.
‘These guys have some ulterior motive.’
Ian glanced at the Count’s expression. Deruga wore an awkward smile, but his face was stiff. He already had no excuse to refuse, and plausible reasons kept piling up.
“Count?”
“Ian, what do you think?”
In the end, the Count played his last card. He passed the decision to Ian. His mouth smiled mercifully, but his eyes were ice-cold. It was full of silent pressure to behave properly.
‘This is fun.’
Seeing Border Count Deruga and central administrator Molin clashing over one kid. It was common in the imperial palace, but viewing it from below felt different.
“Well.”
Ian placed words on the tightly drawn string. Of course, going outside was to his benefit, but shaking things up big before the game ended wasn’t bad either.
“If my guidance is clumsy, it might just be a hindrance. Since I’m still young, I’m not sure if I can satisfy you gentlemen.”
Unexpected answer—the faces of Lord Molin’s group stiffened slightly. Deruga hid his smile behind his wine glass and nodded.
“However, opportunities to hear the insights of those from the capital aren’t common. If it’s lunch combined with academics rather than just guidance…….”
Ian glanced at Deruga. His jaw, savoring the wine, was clenched tight. Then Drgor smoothly interjected.
“Count, if you’re worried we might fall short, then we apologize for the embarrassing suggestion.”
His skill in seizing the conversation’s reins was superb. Astonishingly adept rhetoric, elevating each other’s positions to draw out a positive response.
Deruga’s answer to that question was set.
“…Of course not. Don’t say that.”
“Then we’re relieved. When would suit you?”
“Ask Ian. Ian?”
As attention focused on Ian again, Molin stepped in gracefully.
“Since the Count is ‘permitting’ it, it’d be best if the Count sets the date. After all, everything in Bratz is handled by the Count.”
Rhetoric so brilliant even Emperor Ian admired it. As expected of someone from the center—extremely sharp. Arrogant border noble Deruga could never win against them with words.
‘What’s their real intent?’
At first, he thought it was just Lord Molin’s petty check. More frequent meetings and talks would make it easier to find faults in the bastard.
But seeing the three of them tag-team, there was clearly another purpose. They were putting in too much effort for a mere side opportunity. Had Deruga noticed?
‘He has.’
His hand stroking his beard was cautious. And his rolling eyes? With no excuse to refuse anyway, he’d cooperate to probe their intentions.
“Then how about lunch tomorrow?”
Deruga asked Molin, but his gaze was on Ian. Having finished his calculations, he wore a lazy smile. His earlier stiff expression was gone.
“Oh, thank you, Count.”
“But I have a request in return.”
He said that, then looked at Chel. Everyone’s gazes followed to the child. Chel froze mid-bite of his steak.
“As Ian said, you’re from the center, so I have no doubt you’ll be excellent teachers. So, please let Chel join and share his academics too.”
Annoying, but not a problematic request.
Mac, Drgor, and Molin quickly exchanged signals. Just eye contact—no one noticed.
“But Father, I have school—”
“Very well. Young Master Chel seems exceptionally bright too. I’m really looking forward to the lunch discussion.”
“Thank you for saying so.”
Before Chel could speak, the adults concluded. Chel shot Ian a disgusted glance. Already awkward, and now stuck together all day? Outside the count’s mansion too?
“Shall we bring out dessert then?”
“Yes, it was an excellent meal.”
Ian nodded in agreement. A satisfied smile lingered on his lips. A meal where they got everything they wanted. He’d feel full even without eating.
“Today’s meal was an honor, Count Deruga.”
“We’ll meet again next week.”
“Sir Ian, I’ll send a carriage for tomorrow’s lunch.”
The rest of the conversation was utterly devoid of substance. Even the polite haha-ho-ho laughter was gone. Everyone had entered a lull, losing interest in talking. Molin and his group stood after leaving half their dessert.
“Yes, take care.”
“Madam, until next time.”
After kissing the backs of Mary’s hands in farewell, the three guests boarded their carriage and left. As the meal cleared and Ian prepared to return to the mansion, Deruga called his two sons.
“Chel. Ian.”
“Yes, Father.”
“Tell me everything they say behind my back, not missing a single word. Stay sharp.”
A perfectly natural reprimand. As Chel and Ian nodded, Deruga fixed Ian with a cold gaze.
“And you, come to my office.”
Mary and Chel looked back puzzled, but that was it. They headed to their rooms down the hall, and Ian followed Deruga’s back to the office.
Creak.
The office looked much the same as before. Maybe more documents, but not sure. Without saying to sit, Deruga rummaged through a drawer for something.
Slide.
“Hm.”
What he pulled out was a small brooch. A tiger and laurel seal inlaid with a red gem. Clearly the Bratz family crest.
“Wear this when you go tomorrow.”
Unlike tossing his mother’s pouch, Deruga approached and personally pinned the brooch to the boy’s chest. Ian knew instantly what it was.
‘A mana stone that can record and track location.’
Common in Ian’s era, but rare in the border a hundred years ago. Likely a heirloom used secretly for threats to safety.
Deruga dusted his chest lightly and warned.
“Do not lose it, absolutely. Keep it spotless. It’s dozens of times more precious than your worthless body.”
“…I’ll keep it in mind.”
Two kids’ reports had limits. Especially against three seasoned central officials. Couldn’t handle dim Chel alone? They’d ditch him and approach Ian.
“I’ll assign people too, so don’t cause trouble rashly. Come straight to the office when you return.”
But was Ian fully on Deruga’s side? The man holding his mother’s life hostage, trying to sell him beyond the border? No choice but to bring out the family’s precious mana stone brooch.
“Yes, Father.”
But Ian clicked his tongue at the mana stone on his chest. Deruga’s attitude assumed he couldn’t use written communication. Pathetic, attaching something useless and feeling secure. Laughable.
Creak.
Ian bowed politely and left, returning to his room to examine the brooch closely. Infusing mana, it blocked quickly. Meaning low capacity.
Zing. Zeeeng.
‘Lowest of the low-grade.’
Ian could control this level if he wanted.
‘Location tracking uses a matching mana stone, so no issue.’
Deruga was probably staring at a compass in his office. Made with a mana stone matching the brooch—not a needle, but it tracked direction and light intensity for position.
‘Just need to handle the recording.’
As Ian focused again and sent mana, the gem glowed redder. His golden eyes curved softly.
“Oh.”
Then he almost forgot. One reason he wanted to go out was to meet his birth mother. Ian rang the bell to call a servant.
Ding!
“You called, Young Master?”
“Bring a snack.”
A snack right after lunch?
The servant bowed, hiding his surprise. But Ian hummed happily, looking outside. He wasn’t waiting for the snack, but the person bringing it.