Chapter 18. Preparation

To meet the Cheonryeo tribe, but not join them?

Molin's face was a sight to behold. A mix of bewilderment and absurdity. He stroked his beard, mouth opening and closing, trying to grasp Ian's intentions.

Meeting the Cheonryeo meant crossing the border. For Ian, wasn't that a death sentence?

At his hesitation, Mac and Dregor also leaned in, peering at the parchment. Their expressions shifted to match Molin's.

Do you not understand what it means to meet the Cheonryeo tribe?

I understand perfectly. But if the Imperial Palace sends investigators, my father will undoubtedly suspect me. Among the central nobles in the Bratz territory, you are the only ones, and I am the one who has been close to you in the mansion. Even if he has hidden eyes and ears, it is obvious that I will be the first to be suspected.

It was the natural course of action.

If the Imperial Palace had sent an investigator after nearly half a month's journey, it meant they had solid evidence, and that evidence likely originated from the Bratz mansion.

He won't leave me alone. I don't know what will happen when the investigators arrive. Knowing my father's personality, he'll interrogate me with a blade. So, I will cross the border.

The three men exchanged glances.

Truthfully, they didn't care what happened to the child. Whether he died at his father's hand, became a slave, or crossed the border. What they wanted was the downfall of the Bratz family and the value of the territory they would gain from it.

You may never return.

Ian was well aware of this.

Even with the peace treaty in place, his safety couldn't be guaranteed. What would happen if his family was gone? It might be better to hide somewhere.

Then.

Ian, piercing through their thoughts, continued to write.

Will you hide me and my mother?

Molin remained impassive, his gaze fixed on the parchment, but Mac and Dregor's discomfort was evident.

Bringing down the Bratz family, a lineage spanning generations, was a time-sensitive and dangerous task. Protecting a bastard child and his mother was an added burden, especially since they were outsiders.

The Bratz territory is in my father's grasp. I know it's impossible. So, I will cross the border as my father wishes. That alone is enough.

As long as Derga remained in power, Ian's bones were destined to be buried beyond the border. Even if he ran, he had nowhere to go.

But what if the Bratz family was annihilated? No. At least, what if Derga, the head of the family, was gone?

Ian could return.

And live as he had before.

'Risky, but maybe not a bad choice.'

Mac thought, stroking his brow.

If he stayed here, he would either die by his father's hand or become a slave. But if he left...

'There's hope. Later, when time has passed and memories have faded, he could blend in with the villagers and live among them.'

He silently applauded Ian. He brought the pen and wrote at the edge, his handwriting almost lying flat.

A truly fate-defying choice! Teacher. I think this is acceptable. With Ian's help, securing evidence immediately is our priority, isn't it? That Derga, he's not one to be underestimated. We don't have time to waste.

Molin nodded in agreement.

And above all, if the peace treaty proceeds...

As Mac was about to write further, Dregor stopped him, shaking his head lightly with a scolding look.

Realizing his mistake, Mac turned to Ian, his gaze apologetic as he assessed his expression. Instead of answering, Ian completed the sentence.

If the peace treaty proceeds, it will be beneficial in many ways.

With the central investigation and Derga's conflict, the territory would be in turmoil. It would be troublesome if the Cheonryeo tribe took advantage of the chaos. It was safer to proceed with the agreed-upon peace treaty. Even if the head of the family changed later, they would be in a favorable position for negotiation.

"Lord Ian. Let's go outside often. We'll leave when the flowers are in full bloom, but before that, you must take in the beauty of the Bratz territory."

This meant that everything would proceed as planned in the spring, without any setbacks.

Molin drew his family's seal on the paper with his fingertip. It was a gesture made by those who valued honor when making a vow. An absolute promise, invoking the family name. He seemed grateful for Ian's sacrifice, though it wasn't truly a sacrifice.

'The seal is peculiar.'

Just as Ian was observing his hand movements without much interest...

Knock. Knock.

A knock came from outside.

"We'll bring in the dessert."

"Come in."

Fortunately, it wasn't Countess Mary. It was the servants carrying trays filled with teacups and a teapot. As they busily entered the room, Mac stuffed the parchment into his pocket and asked.

"I'd like to smoke a cigarette, Lord Ian."

"You may. Just open the window."

"Thank you. Hey, bring an ashtray with a lid."

"Yes, sir. I'll bring it right away."

"But the Countess is a bit late, isn't she?"

If Countess Mary was delayed, he planned to burn the paper along with the tobacco. Click. Click. Mac habitually flicked his lighter as he asked, and the servant smiled awkwardly.

"Countess Merellophe sent many things over."

"Do they often interact like that?"

"Yes? Um. The servants go back and forth a couple of times a week."

The servant respectfully presented a golden ashtray. Mac, who was opening the window, suddenly noticed a familiar flower pot.

"That's the flower pot we bought at the park that day."

"It's a strange flower. It stays in full bloom for a long time."

"Do the people in the mansion not know what it is?"

"No. Everyone says it's a plant they've never seen before. We were worried it might be poisonous, but fortunately, it doesn't seem to be."

Hmm. Mac exhaled a puff of smoke and shifted his gaze. Once the servants left, he crumpled the carefully folded parchment into the ashtray. He then pressed the burning end of his cigarette against it, watching as faint smoke drifted out the window.

Knock. Knock.

This time, the door opened without waiting for an answer. It was Countess Mary. She covered her mouth and laughed, looking embarrassed.

"I'm sorry I'm late. It's not polite to keep guests waiting."

"Not at all, Countess. It seems Countess Merellophe sent some precious gifts."

"Since they're close to the Hawn Kingdom, they get a lot of interesting things."

"Is that so? There must be many items not even seen in the central region."

Mac asked with a hint of wanting to see them, but Countess Mary awkwardly smiled and changed the subject.

"They're women's things, so you probably wouldn't be interested. Anyway..."

She took a deep breath, about to savor the aroma of the tea, but then paused.

"What's that smell?"

"I apologize, Countess. I smoked a cigarette."

"Oh, you did."

The glare she was about to give Ian softened. She had momentarily thought the room wasn't being managed properly. Mary smiled brightly and brought up more gossip.

One hour.

That's how long it took for Molin and his party to leave after lunch. Moreover, most of that time was spent with Countess Mary, except for the beginning. As a result, the time to check the brooch was much shorter.

Derga took out a gemstone from the mana container and asked.

"There's a gap here. Explain."

Especially before the Countess entered.

Derga sharply scrutinized Ian, who stood at attention. He didn't seem particularly nervous or flustered.

"I was just listening to Sir Mac and Sir Dregor's conversation. The weather was so nice that I was looking outside. Overall, it was a peaceful and quiet atmosphere."

Clink. Clink.

The sound of Derga rolling the brooch was the only sound in the room. His expression was full of suspicion, but Ian knew it was just a threat to intimidate and control him.

"If you're done checking, may I go downstairs? The tutor is waiting."

"You said you'd write a personal letter today, didn't you?"

"Yes. I'll do my best, though it may be inadequate."

He had already prepared what to write. It would be full of meaningless content, other than verifying his handwriting, about fostering harmony between the Bratz family and the Cheonryeo tribe.

"You may leave."

"Father."

Even at Ian's call, Derga didn't raise his head. He simply raised an eyebrow, a silent permission to speak.

"Has Mother received the letter?"

"...You're asking useless questions."

It wasn't useless. He was consciously reminding Derga that Ian's leash was his mother. Making him complacent, believing he had a firm grip on the leash. But at the end of that leash, there would be nothing.

"I apologize. Then."

Ian bowed his head and left the office.

What Sir Molin needed was a clue to embezzlement. The Imperial Palace investigator would uncover the details, so even a minor detail with a seal would suffice.

'The brooch is in the middle drawer of the desk. There was no separate lock. That can't be right.'

Due to the angle, Ian couldn't see inside the drawer from his position. But it was where valuable mana stones were stored, and more importantly, there was no apparent safe in Derga's study. Even if there was a safe, it was likely connected to the desk.

As he pondered how to search the desk...

"Lord Ian."

"Hana?"

As he came down the stairs, Hana peeked her head out. Her cautious voice and the way she looked left and right indicated something was amiss. She was checking to see if anyone was watching.

"What is it?"

"Do you know someone named Beric?"

"Beric?"

Of course, he did. As Ian nodded, Hana whispered as if she had expected it.

"There's a man named Beric causing a disturbance at the front gate, demanding to see you, Lord Ian."

He could imagine the scene, and a chuckle escaped him. Even his mother couldn't see him, so why would they let a vagrant, expelled from the soldier's unit, meet him?

"I'll go see him briefly, so please tell the tutor."

"Yes, Lord Ian."

Hana quickly ran to the annex, and Ian headed for the front gate. The atmosphere among the gardeners and gatekeepers was indeed unsettled. As Ian approached with quick steps, a guard awkwardly bowed his head.

"What brings you here?"

"I heard my guest has arrived."

"Well, that is-"

The gatekeeper scratched his nose and explained.

"He claims to be a former trainee, but he seems to have a grudge against the mansion, so we turned him away."

So, they had misjudged that he wasn't here to see Ian but merely using him as an excuse to enter the mansion. That's why the report had ended at the mid-level manager.

"How impudent."

"Pardon?"

Ian frowned. The guard blinked at the sudden scolding.

"Do the underlings dare to arbitrarily filter the master's guests? If he said he came to see me, you should have consulted those above and proceeded accordingly. Who are you to decide?"

'Those above' referred to Derga, but it didn't matter. It wasn't something to hide, nor could it be hidden. To use Beric as a subordinate meant to take him in.

"...I, I apologize."

Ian glared and gestured with his chin.

"Open the gate."

"But..."

"I won't go out."

At Ian's firm words, the gatekeeper opened the main gate.

Creak.

A short distance away, Beric was sprawled on the ground, almost lying down. It seemed like he was planning to eat and sleep there until he met Ian.

"Hey!"

As soon as Beric spotted the golden hair, he sprang up reflexively. The gatekeeper's spear blocked his path. But Beric treated them like they were invisible and shouted.

"You! What are you!"

He must be referring to the golden eyes and the mysterious power from that day.

Ian smiled brightly and stood in front of the gate. As he had told the gatekeepers, he hadn't stepped outside the mansion.

"You've become quite impressive."

The whip marks, lined up in rows, were clear. Ian gestured for him to come closer, and they faced each other at the boundary between the mansion and the outside world.

"Everyone, step back for a moment."

"But-"

"Shall I call the butler?"

It wasn't Derga but the butler who directly managed them. If it became known that the report had been cut off midway, they would surely be scolded severely.

And it was someone who had come to see Ian, of all people. Whatever else they might overlook, there was an order to manage even the smallest things regarding the bastard son.

"Just for a moment."

The gatekeepers moved back a little. They were close enough to respond quickly if a problem arose but far enough not to hear a quiet conversation. Ian pulled Beric's ear.

"You. You look like you need my help."

"Stop with the small talk and tell me what that was back then-"

"I need you too."

Ian cut off Beric's words and whispered.

"So, from now on, follow me."