Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Did the meal suit your palate?

Count Dergha asked as he set down his utensils. The luncheon that lasted for a couple of hours was finally drawing to a close. The sun that had hung high in the sky had long since begun its descent towards the mountains.

It was absolutely splendid. Its of a quality that would not be out of place even in the imperial palace.

Ian, who had been silently tidying up the napkins, paused in surprise.

Such a statement, comparing anything to the imperial palace the center of the world and the epitome of dignity would have been shocking in Ians era. However, as he looked at Count Derghas people, none of the Counts household members reacted.

Is this considered normal?

If so, it implied that the influence of the imperial palace might not be as strong as he assumed. Even disregarding the short-reigned emperors from 100 years ago, one would have to go back seven generations to find a comparable era.

Ill have the dessert prepared.

Thank you, Countess.

As Ian wracked his brains, the atmosphere in the room suddenly shifted. Countess Mary looked at her two sons with an elegant and gentle smile.

Chel. Ian. The adults have matters to discuss. The two of you should go to the next room and have some tea.

No doubt they will gossip about Ians adoption. Even excluding the very person involved.

While the progression of the adoption was almost a foregone conclusion, the unusual scrutiny and objections due to their unusual distance from the palaces influence was anticipated.

Yes, Mother.

As Ian answered crisply, the corners of Countess Marys mouth trembled slightly. It seemed no easy task to even feign affection towards such a pitiful creature. With a soft pat on his cheek, she managed to express a semblance of affection. However, the more she did this, the deeper the scorn in Chels eyes became.

Over here, Sir Molrin.

Oh my, quite impressive indeed.

They entered the main building, leaving the backyard behind.

The large reception room at the heart of the mansion was not just luxurious, but to a degree that was almost mind-boggling. The golden foil adorning the room glittered in the sunlight, illuminating the area.

Squeak.

As the adults went into the inner reception room, only Chel and Ian remained. The two sat opposite each other, each taking the measure of the other. To be exact, Chel glared, while Ian observed.

The young master does resemble Count Derghas quite a bit. Any passerby would know theyre of the same lineage.

His fiery red, curly hair and freckled nose. Despite his youthful age, his rotund belly unmistakably showed Ders lineage.

The reflection in the mirror, Ian, with his blonde hair and absinthe eyes, seemed to have heavily inherited features from his unknown mother. He was pretty, with no similarity to Chel whatsoever.

Master Chel. Master Ian. Ill serve the tea.

The servant approached politely and set down the tea and cookies. Chels eyes hardened, and he smacked the servants head.

Smack!

Ah!

Hot tea spilled from the servants hand. Ian reflexively searched for a handkerchief, but he, a lowly servant, had none to offer.

Say that again.

Pardon?

The servant looked taken aback as he rubbed his scalded hand on his apron. Luckily, the burn was minor.

Who gave you the audacity to call me by my name?

Aa I apologize, Young Count.

This term acknowledged him as the Counts only legitimate offspring, essentially publicly declaring him as Derghas successor.

Ian, well-versed in etiquette, was aware of this, but he too found Chels aggressive response a bit strange.

Since you spilled the tea, youre responsible.

Ill bring a fresh pot.

Ian grabbed Chels hair and looked him straight in the eyes. His absinthe1-colored eyes changed to gold and his magical power erupted. It was a reaction that happened involuntarily, as if blood was surging up.

You foolish child.

Ian let out a sigh, feeling the magic power with his whole body. It was miniscule compared to when he was the emperor, but it was not a level Chel could withstand. Moreover, wasnt he, the brightest star in the history of magic?

No matter how young you are, the weight of words is the same. A three-inch tongue is not too short to change a life. If youre not careful, it could be cut off.

A century ago, the current Bariel Empire had virtually no recognition of magicians compared to when Ian ruled. Even the capitals nobles could only connect with them if they were lucky, let alone Chel, who didnt have a trace of it.

Ah

Thus, even when faced with a strange phenomenon, he had no idea what it meant. Chel was on the verge of fainting, his face turning pale white.

Thump.

He fell onto the sofa with a slump, wetting himself out of sheer shock. Ian withdrew with a grimace, clicking his tongue internally. With his back against the direct sunlight, Ian looked like a manifested angel. Chel continued to make mistakes without stopping.

This is driving me crazy.

He thought he should call a servant when suddenly the door to the reception room swung open.

Dear guests. Please enjoy the tea

Molrin paused while walking in with a gentle smile, as he faced Ian bathed in sunlight. For a brief moment, he could see Ians golden eyes transformed into an absinthe hue.

Just now?

Was it an illusion caused by light reflection? Something felt odd.

Molrin studied Ians eyes, replaying that fleeting moment until the Countesss fuss broke his concentration.

Chel! What is this!

Countess Mary had found Chel, who was standing there in a daze. The child stumbled as he looked at Ian, but his face remained calm.

It wouldnt be good to speak nonsense.

The warning conveyed through silence seemed to have reached Chel. The child almost cried as he stammered his excuse.

I, I, I spilled the tea.

Oh dear. Oh dear. In all the world!

Finally noticing Chel, Molrin turned away, coughing awkwardly as if embarrassed, and Dergha tightly shut his eyes.

What a disgrace! A seventeen-year-old, grown son committing a faux pas in the reception room! If rumors spread, it would be unbearable to show my face.

Is there no one outside? Anyone would do, quickly!

Whats going on? Egmont!

Bring clothes, towels, and something to wipe with.

While the Countess was bustling about calling for a servant, Molrin quietly asked Count Dergha for permission to leave. While it wouldnt be surprising for a Central Bureau employee who urgently came down to oversee the change, it was also hard to keep standing like this.

Count, I have an urgent matter. For now

Oh! Of course. It was an honor today.

Same here. If its alright, may I request Master Ian to escort me out?

Dergha, too flustered, let his thoughts slip out before he could stop it, especially when Chel started sobbing.

Thank you for your permission, Count. Master Ian, the mansion is quite large, could you please assist this old man?

Of course. Sir Molrin. I will gladly guide you.

Although he had no idea about the layout of the mansion, leaving with Molrin was a far better choice than staying here. He could just catch any passing servant and ask them to hold Molrins coat.

Lets go.

Ian, with a wide smile, guided him out.

Once again, facing those absinthe-colored eyes, Molrin scrutinized the child with a gaze filled with wisdom of the ages.

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