Margrave's Bastard Son was The Emperor-Chapter 312

“…Stop.”

“Pardon? What’s wrong, Your Majesty?”

“I said stop! Halt the carriage!”

Startled by the king’s sudden command, Timothy rapped on the coachman’s window. Since it wasn’t just four wheels rolling along, the coachman called out to the escort carriages ahead to reduce speed.

Damon leaned out the window, looking back at the street they’d passed. It happened in an instant. The spot where he’d locked eyes with the gypsy had already been pushed far behind.

Neigh!

Screech!

“Damn it.”

“Your Majesty!”

The moment the carriage stopped, Damon threw open the door himself and rushed out. He left the well-maintained central road, pushing through crowds of people, shouting for them to make way, and vaulting over cumbersome market stalls.

Timothy hurriedly followed Damon’s frenzied movements, feeling as if he were seeing an illusion. Wasn’t this the man who always maintained his composure?

Even when the previous king died, even when new mines were discovered, he had never shown such raw emotion.

“Make way! Clear the path!”

“Kyaaah! Stop pushing, fuck!”

“All the stalls are falling over, you, you damned bastard!”

“Who is that? A foreigner? Looks like they came from the palace.”

“Don’t block the way! Move aside! Damn it! Your Majesty!”

“Forbid that title! Keep your mouths shut!”

It was chaos. Conflicts erupted between soldiers following Damon and citizens, while Timothy prohibited the disclosure of the king’s identity.

Though it might spread through word of mouth later, there was no need to announce right now that this was the King of Burgos, was there?

Clop clop!

Though his breath reached his throat, Damon didn’t stop running.

He’d known this would happen. He’d foreseen this situation since first entering Bariel. An arrogant gypsy would appear before those searching for her, offering greetings that felt like mockery.

Damon reached the spot where he’d seen the gypsy and looked around.

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“Huff, huff…”

“Your- no, Master!”

“Please move aside for a moment! Please!”

“This fell over! You need to compensate us!”

“Fine, damn it. Master, where are you? Please stop for a moment!”

The crowd was so thick he couldn’t even see the soldiers nearby. A child sitting on some steps spoke to Damon.

“Looking for the grandmother?”

“…What?”

“She went that way saying ‘I better run.'”

The place the child pointed to was a gloomy alley. A narrow, dark path barely wide enough for two or three people. Though the festival was so bright, there were always places untouched by light. Ȓά₦őꞖĚṥ

Swoosh.

Damon stepped inside without hesitation. But after turning a couple of corners, he realized he’d been tricked. He faced a dead end. Not a single branching path or even a hole in sight.

Damn it.

Damon stood there, clutching his forehead. He couldn’t dismiss it as a mistake or mere wishful illusion. The child sitting on the steps had confirmed the gypsy’s presence.

But…

Something was strange. Ian Hielo of the Magic Department had asserted that the gypsy had moved to another country, showing not a shred of doubt.

Though the gypsy was extraordinary, did she have enough ability to deceive the eyes and ears of mages and disappear? Did Ian Hielo truly believe the gypsy had fled abroad?

If so, it was both disappointing and fortunate. It made clear the limitations of those said to possess power close to gods, while suggesting they were still manageable opponents.

If they didn’t know – if they truly didn’t know, it would be pathetic, but what if they did know? What if they knew the gypsy was in Bariel but didn’t report it to Burgos?

Whoosh.

Wind whirled through the narrow alley.

Damon frowned, leaning against the wall. If the gypsy and Ian Hielo had made some sort of contact and were hiding this from Burgos, the situation would become serious.

The methods to find out were limited, and there was only one thing Damon could do now. Using the distant festival clamor as a shield, he whispered quietly.

“I am-“

If he returned to the palace, the portrait would hear, and he might fall under the mages’ surveillance. Only this shabby alley, product of impulse and chance, could receive Damon’s secret.

“Damon Runkvis. Living two lives.”

Damon unconsciously covered his mouth and leaned against the wall. It felt as if his heart had stopped.

To think he could speak the secret. That the secret he’d sold to the gypsy could be conveyed by his own will. This couldn’t be possible. How could this happen when the gypsy wasn’t even dead?

…Gave away the secret? To whom?

Just as he had given up his secret and obtained his parents’ secret, someone else had done the same.

Damon felt nauseous from the shock. The unpleasant sensation of wanting to retch made it difficult to stand properly.

“Your Majesty!”

Just then, Timothy’s call from behind. He was approaching with an extremely troubled expression.

“Your Majesty. What’s wrong?”

“You…”

“One moment. Here! Found him! Have everyone wait with the carriages!”

“Yes, understood! The Bariel guards have arrived!”

Even as Timothy directed the situation to his subordinates, Damon’s thoughts grew increasingly tangled. Timothy had spent months pursuing the gypsy.

Should he tell him?

Should he mention seeing the gypsy in passing?

“Your Majesty. What’s happened? You look unwell.”

Damon looked up at Timothy, his mind razor sharp.

The strange connection of ‘coincidentally’ meeting Ian Hielo during a mission before returning home. His immediate understanding of the gypsy’s whereabouts at the banquet.

And in his previous life, abandoning his country…

“Do you perhaps have something to instruct? Though the guards have arrived, I’ll handle it well.”

Though Timothy asked worriedly, Damon shook his head.

“It’s fine.”

“Pardon? But-“

“I said it’s fine.”

For now, the only place he could consider his secret might have flowed to was the palace’s core – specifically, the Crown Prince and those like Ian Hielo.

If it was the imperial family, it wouldn’t be strange for them to possess something massive enough to exchange for his secret.

…And above all, Timothy.

Having pursued her directly, he might have heard the secret from the gypsy and let her go.

He couldn’t be certain of anything. The more he counted possibilities, the more infinite they became.

Damon passed by Timothy, who was watching him with concern, and left the alley. The child who had been sitting on the steps had vanished without a trace. The street was in complete chaos from the disruption he’d caused.

“Let us through! Please?”

“No, wait! Or go around that way!”

“Why are there so many people! Move aside! Just need to turn that corner there.”

The guards used their bodies to create a path through the crowd, and Damon boarded the carriage as if nothing had happened.

Timothy arranged the carriages while requesting something from the guard captain.

Neigh!

Clop clop!

Damon’s carriage continued on its way. Though Timothy, sitting opposite him, kept making puzzled expressions, he remained silent, watching outside.

How could he tell someone he suspected about seeing the gypsy? Especially someone who had mocked him with nonsensical claims about her crossing the Bariel border to another country.

“Your Majesty. Have I made some mistake?”

“Has the palace departure schedule been set?”

“Ah? Well, His Highness the Crown Prince ordered that Burgos Kingdom should leave first, so we’ll likely depart tomorrow afternoon. Clifford and Ruswena will follow in that order.”

“After finishing business and returning to the palace, we’re going to the Magic Department. Send word ahead that I wish to meet with Minister Ian Hielo.”

“Why Lord Ian…?”

It was an innocent question. As an advisor and delegation representative, shouldn’t he know why the king was meeting a foreign minister in order to help?

The magic stone trade could be finalized with Director Akorella, so there was no need to meet Ian specifically. The accompanying mage would report anyway.

Moreover, given their currently unfavorable position in the palace, it would be more appropriate to strategically plan even small matters…

“Your only response should be ‘I shall obey.'”

Damon rebuked Timothy with a chilling gaze. It was an overtly hostile look warning him not to speak further.

Why was he acting this way? Though something had seemed off since he jumped from the carriage, this seemed excessive. Timothy bowed his head, feeling both awkward and worried as he replied.

“…Yes, Your Majesty. I shall obey.”

Though it was a well-paved stone road, the carriage somehow felt like it was shaking violently. Damon frowned even more at the rising nausea, while Timothy nervously turned his gaze to the window.

While the festival crowds looked so happy, what was he doing here? This was a moment when he just wanted to finish his duties and return home to see his wife and children.

***

A mage turned into the corridor, carrying thick documents against his chest. The office door was half-open. The mage made his presence known loudly while poking his head in.

Knock knock.

“Are you here?”

“No. Go away.”

“But you are here. We have matters to deliver.”

Romandro greeted the mage. His cheeks had grown hollow from handling the parade aftermath in Ian’s stead.

Department Chief Hale and Beric were sprawled on the sofa. While Hale’s state was understandable after giving magic power to Ian, it was unclear why Beric was lying there.

“Matters to deliver? From where?”

“From the Prime Minister.”

“Hmm. Wait a moment. They won’t give us a break. The appointment ceremony just ended – wouldn’t it be nice to drink and celebrate? Right?”

“How is Lord Ian? Is he alright?”

“Fortunately the bleeding has stopped. How about the other mages?”

Romandro nodded while turning the first page. Through the half-open inner door, Ian’s profile was visible, having collapsed after receiving Hale’s magic power. From his neat lying posture to his even breathing sounds, everything appeared orderly.

The mage whispered with a shrug, apparently realizing his voice had been too loud.

“They say they overdid it, but it doesn’t seem too serious. Lord Ian suffered the most. He was bleeding alone while everyone else was dizzy and drooling. Should I relay that message again?”

“Hmm? Wait, let me see.”

Romandro, reading the text intently, stroked his chin worriedly. Beric, lying upside down on the sofa, tugged at his trouser leg and asked.

“What is it? Your expression makes you look like someone who lost their house deed.”

“Well, um. Crown Prince Jin has cancelled all afternoon schedules and…”

“His Highness must be tired too. Yaaawn. I’m sleepy as well.”

“He requests we organize his belongings as he’ll be moving his quarters from the Magic Department to his previous palace.”

“Palace? Where? That completely destroyed palace?”

“I’d heard the repairs were almost complete, so I figured he’d return sometime, but isn’t this too early?”

Just a bit further in from the office was Jin’s quarters. As Crown Prince, he naturally couldn’t keep his residence in a specific department.

But it was too regrettable. Though there were sad and unfortunate events mixed in with the memories, hadn’t there also been times of laughter and joy? Romandro sniffled as if sending off a child.

“Ah, he’s crying again. There’s nothing to cry about.”

“Aren’t you going to miss him? You fool, His Highness the Crown Prince is moving to another palace.”

“What’s there to miss? It’s not like he’s going to another country – we’ll keep seeing him coming and going. Anyway. Is there anything else on the next page?”

Romandro glared at Beric while checking the memo. This was added by the diplomat in charge of Burgos.

“The King of Burgos will come to the Magic Department and wants to meet with Ian. Though they said they left for matters regarding magic stones.”

“I heard something happened on the way.”

“Something? What happened?”

“I’m not sure. They say the street was controlled, perhaps due to carriage trouble. That’s just what I heard, so. We should be able to confirm the details when they enter the palace.”

What should they do? Given Ian’s poor condition, it would be better to postpone the meeting. While Romandro was deeply considering this.

Ian, who had been lying quietly, opened his eyes.

So you’re leaving.

His consciousness, which had been vaguely awake, became clear from the moment he heard about Jin’s quarters being moved. Deciding he couldn’t fall back asleep, Ian called for Romandro. Though his head throbbed and rang, it was bearable while lying down.

“Lord Romandro.”

“Oh? Ian. You’re awake? Ah, that Beric’s voice was too loud.”

“Wow, that’s hilarious. Lord Romandro was talking the most!”

“Shut it! Be quiet!”

“…Both of you stop and hand me the report.”

“Here it is!”

Ian checked the memo while lying down. The King of Burgos personally requested a meeting. Though he didn’t know the intention, there was no reason to refuse. Ian nodded and spoke.

“…It would be good to handle some work before King Damon returns.”

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