Ian the Illegitimate Son Was an Emperor

Chapter 2

The Bastard of House Vratz

“For an aristocratic family, House Vratz is quite uncouth.”

Such was the reputation of House Vratz in high society. Perhaps it was because the Vratz Margravate lay adjacent to the lands of a tribe that did not belong to the empire. In the olden days, the forces of the empire and the tribe had been engaged in endless wars. However, they had recently reached an armistice, albeit superficially, and had been on friendly terms ever since.

“Lord Ian, your table manners are excellent.”

Focused as he was on eating his steak, the old man’s compliment brought Ian back to the present.

Is he being sarcastic? In my hunger, did I eat too greedily?

Becoming self-conscious, Ian cleared his throat, but soon found that the old man was sincere.

“Your son possesses admirable grace. I am sure it is thanks to your superb teaching, Margrave Vratz.”

“Oh, no. Not at all, Sir Mollin.”

Margrave Derga Vratz, the head of House Vratz, managed to uphold the formalities between host and guest even though he was quite bewildered by his bastard son, whose attitude had changed drastically in only a matter of seconds.

Casting a sideways glance at Ian, the margrave answered, “It is a matter of course, since the blood of House Vratz flows through his veins. I hope you will put in a good word with the emperor.”

“Of course, Margrave Vratz.”

Mystified by their words, Ian stopped chewing for a second.

The emperor? Are they talking about me? No, wait. Did they just mention the name Vratz? Come to think of it…

The hands holding the fork and knife were smaller and skinnier than they should have been, and the vantage point from where he was seated seemed lower than usual. Puzzled, Ian swallowed his food and looked for his wine glass. His glass appeared to hold some beverage other than wine. Furthermore, the face reflected in the round glass was not his, but that of a stranger. Shocked, Ian nearly forgot his manners and almost spewed out his drink, managing to swallow before bursting into a cough.

Watching him coughing and reaching for his napkin, the boy seated opposite him taunted, “Would you look at that? I knew he was faking it.”

“Chel, be nice to your brother.”

Disgruntled, the boy called Chel pouted. Margravine Mary Vratz grasped his hand under the table to keep him in check, since this was no ordinary occasion. Sir Mollin was an aide from the capital who had come to confirm whether Ian was qualified to become an official member of House Vratz. The aide smiled indulgently at Chel before focusing again on Ian.

“Lord Ian, I hear that you are learning about philosophy.”

Mollin’s sudden question unnerved the margrave and his wife, for Ian could not even write his name. As the son of a commoner whom Derga had violated, Ian had not been properly educated. Only a few moments ago, he had carelessly drunk from an ornamental bowl used for washing hands.

“As yet, it is not something to boast of.”

The margrave quickly stepped in and tried to speak on Ian’s behalf, his casual dismissal belied by his sharp glance at his son.

The fool, did I not tell him to learn it by heart?

Derga had made his son cram for Mollin’s questions, but apparently, the lowborn idiot had forgotten everything. Rather than backing down, the old man pushed ahead with a smile.

“Such is learning. It can only grow through the meeting of opinions. Lord Ian, what have you learned recently? I heard that you do not go to school, even though you are sixteen.”

The almost eighty-year-old man was kind but firm. After all, Sir Mollin had worked his whole life at the capital’s administrative office, where new faces replaced the old as often as not. The margrave could no longer deflect questions for his son. Every eye was now turned toward Ian.

Ian cleared his throat and wiped his mouth neatly with a napkin. As expected by all, he was flustered, but not because of Mollin’s questions. Rather, he had just realized that he was in the back garden of the Vratz Manor.

Why am I at the Vratz Manor? And in the body of a boy I have never seen before?

Ian guessed that it had something to do with Naum’s time and space magic, but he could not be sure. Since that kind of magic opens a portal connecting two points in time, it necessitated spacial restrictions. In other words, one would end up in the same place but at a different time. However, Ian had been in the dungeon during his final moments. More importantly, he had never heard of such magic sending someone into another person’s body.

“Lord Ian?”

“Oh, please excuse me.”

At Mollin’s prompting, Ian automatically answered with his usual dignity and grace, a habit he had acquired at the palace. He smiled to show that he had been listening to the conversation. The margrave and his family had never seen the boy smile like that before.

“Philosophy? Philosophy…” Ian murmured a few times, as if in thought.

“May I answer instead, Sir Mollin?”

Losing patience, Ian’s half-brother Chel stepped in. Although an outsider, Ian was not only the focus of this important luncheon, but he was also being considered as an official member of House Vratz. It was no wonder that Chel was infuriated. He was acting childishly to shift attention from Ian to himself. However, Margravine Mary’s glare at her son’s foolishness caused him to trail off.

“Chel, Sir Mollin asked Ian, didn’t he?”

Silently, Mary was begging her son to get it together.

Son, please keep your mouth shut. This is all for your own good. The only way for you to survive is to bring that lowborn child into House Vratz.

“I like Master Phyllen.”

“Phyllen?”

Amid the commotion, Ian answered softly. He had placed the cutlery neatly to one side, as if he had lost his appetite. Derga’s face blanched.

I have never heard that name before. If Ian did not know anyone, he should have said so! What the hell is this nonsense?

“Well, I know that the Papal Office is not that fond of him, but Master Phyllen’s humanism poses an important question, does it not? When you consider human-centered truths as determined by humanity, you can work out the qualities of a true sovereign.”

It was a matter of personal preference. To Ian, the daily life of his people was more important than philosophy or the humanities in general. Still, he had studied philosophy for form’s sake, so to satisfy the aide he had quoted some “renowned” intellectual whose beliefs were similar to his own. The margrave glanced sideways to check on Mollin. The old man, clearly surprised, leaned toward Ian.

“How do you know Sir Phyllen?”

“Pardon?” Derga, not Ian, answered.

Mollin guffawed and shook his head.

“Oh my. It was arrogant of me to think that news from the capital would be slow to reach the border region. My apologies, Margrave Vratz and Lord Ian.”

“No, that is all right.”

Mollin realized that the margrave did not know who Phyllen was. If he had known, he would have furrowed his brow in displeasure instead of looking so dumbfounded.

“Sir Phyllen is the youngest son of Viscount Hochman. He only recently came of age. Although he’s still young, he is a genius who entered Variel College at the top of his class. During an academic debate recently held at the palace, he turned the world upside down with his delivery on humanism.”

It was true that news was slow to reach the border region. After all, it was a fortnight’s ride from the capital to the Vratz Margravate. No one, not even the margrave himself, had heard the news. Everyone looked at Ian in surprise, but Ian himself was also flabbergasted.

Master Phyllen just came of age? I thought he was over a hundred years old!

It seemed that he had not only ended up in a stranger’s body, but he had also traveled back in time one hundred years. Although he was completely amazed, no one could have discerned it by looking at him. As an emperor, Ian had learned to maintain his composure.

“So, you like Sir Phyllen’s philosophy? But you said that the Papal Office is not fond of it. What do you mean by that?”

“All I meant was that humanism places humanity above all else. As an institution serving god, the Papal Office would not welcome it.

“I see.”

It was the perfect answer. Mollin felt a fortnight’s worth of exhaustion melt away from his body.

“It was certainly worth my time to come here. I was unaware that the new son of House Vratz was so intelligent. I am sure that the emperor will also be pleased.”

In truth, it was nothing out of the ordinary for a nobleman to bring his illegitimate son into the family. To the high and mighty nobility, indulging their carnal desires and siring bastards was not even worth the gossip—in such tedious high society, it was a common enough occurrence both for men and women. Mollin’s next words were somewhat strange.

“And I am sure that the Chunryeo tribe will be pleased as well.”

The Chunryeo tribe?

Ian racked his brain in search of the familiar term. The Chunryeo were the tribe east of the border. Why would the Chunryeo be pleased with his intelligence?

Does that mean… Am I the hostage?

Ian was the bastard son who was to be sent across the border to the Chunryeo to maintain peace.

I understand what is going on now.

With an evil grin, the margrave covered Ian’s hand with his. Given the situation, Derga seemed like a devil wearing the guise of a benevolent father.

“Ian, I do not doubt that you will become a symbol of peace in our land.”

The armistice was an official agreement between the empire and the Chunryeo. It was the custom for the heads of both parties to send their sons, but the tribe beyond the borders was fickle, prone to changing their minds at any moment.

Derga’s second son had died at a young age while crossing the border for the armistice. Although his death was said to be an accident, no one knew what happened. How, then, could Derga send Chel, his only heir? Therefore, he had made all haste to bring Ian, whom he had ignored until now, into the family.

It seemed the palace was well aware of his efforts.

Since they could not afford to send just anyone as a hostage, the palace had tasked Mollin with testing Ian’s intelligence. The more intelligent the hostage was, the more diplomatic deterrence there would be, which would be beneficial to both sides. Of course, it was merely a formality, since the autonomy of House Vratz was prioritized in the border region. At the same time, this system also served as the palace’s effort to keep the rural nobility in check.

Ian figured out the situation at once. Even before his time, House Vratz had continued to maintain the peace by sending and receiving hostages. In the end, they had been annihilated by the Chunryeo because it had taken the messengers a fortnight to reach the capital. By the time the other feudal lords and the then-emperor arrived with their armies to defend House Vratz, it was already too late.

Was that my great-grandfather?

That event had occurred during the rule of Ian’s great-grandfather. In response, the emperor had waged war on the Chunryeo. Once they were driven out, the margravate was divided among the nobles and knights who had fought with him.

“Ian?”

Mary called his name, prompting him to answer his father and thereby fulfill his duty. Ian smiled and took a sip of water.

I do not know what is going on, but I do know one thing—I am not dead. I have come back to life as a strange boy.

“Yes, Father.”

Ian’s clear answer brought a pleased smile to Derga’s lips. Everyone except Chel smiled and blessed the peace that Ian’s presence would bring.

“Well then, let’s carry on,” the margrave proclaimed.

With his heart finally at ease, Derga began eating once again. For a short moment, Ian looked around to get a better sense of his new reality. More than anything else, the beating of his heart told him that he was indeed alive.

I do not know how this has come to pass.

If it had been the result of Naum’s magic, there was one way to find out. Ian had to go to the palace annex and look for the traces of Naum’s magic. The capital, however, was a fortnight’s ride away from the Vratz Margravate. To a boy about to be sent to the Great Desert as a hostage, the palace was a world he could never hope to reach. Yes, such was that world.