Episode 13

“Are we there yet?”

Chel wiped the sweat from his brow and asked. Despite the cool weather and the relatively short walk, the boy kept lagging behind, clearly exhausted.

In contrast, Ian felt lighthearted, enjoying the fresh air after such a long time indoors. The unfamiliar streets and scenery were a pleasant change.

“We’re almost there.”

“If it’s too much, should Master Chel head back?”

At Mac’s kind offer, Chel shook his head firmly.

If Deo were here, maybe. But if he went back alone now, he wouldn’t be able to follow his father’s orders. He had to remember as much as possible of the conversation between Ian and the others to bring back.

“Oh, here it is.”

“Portroga’s landscaping is beautifully suited to its level. The lake is crystal clear, too. On a clear day, the mountains reflect perfectly on the water’s surface.”

Mollin’s praise wasn’t empty words. Even Ian, who had seen the grand gardens of the royal palace, found it quite impressive.

But that feeling didn’t last long. Ian glanced around, trying to hide his unease.

“How big is this place?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t explored it all.”

“If you walk slowly, it should take about thirty minutes.”

The park was larger than expected.

Since they hadn’t specified an exact meeting spot, finding the child’s mother was uncertain. Even while talking with Mollin, Ian kept his senses alert to every passerby.

‘Ah.’

Then, in the distance, he spotted a ragged figure covered in cloth, setting up a stall. No hair was visible, making it impossible to tell if the person was male or female. But among the scattered items on the ground, one familiar thing caught Ian’s eye.

‘It’s the same.’

A potted plant of the same kind as the dried flowers his mother had given him was there. Ian stopped and looked back at Chel, who was sweating profusely, his hair a mess.

“Chel, you look really worn out. Let’s rest here for a bit.”

“Shall we?”

“If it’s okay, could you get us something to drink?”

“Just a moment. Li!”

Mac called to a servant behind them to bring drinks, and the group settled on a nearby bench to catch their breath. Ian kept glancing toward the stall, waiting for an opening.

“While the servant is coming, I want to take a quick look over there. Chel, would you like to come?”

“…No, I’m fine.”

Panting, Chel waved his hand. Ian looked silently at the three men, seeking their consent. Since the stall wasn’t far from where they sat, Mac nodded lightly.

“Very well. Though I doubt there’s much to see.”

“Thank you.”

Ian crouched in front of the stall, examining the items. The ragged figure barely reacted, almost lying down. Hopefully, they weren’t unconscious. Ian turned his head away and gathered his magic. His absinthe-colored eyes shifted to gold, and the brooch on his chest glowed red before going dark.

“Mother.”

The figure flinched at the voice and slowly lifted their head. Golden hair, like desert sand, shimmered beneath the black cloth. Green eyes, just like the child’s. Ian’s mother.

“…Ian.”

“Please don’t react too strongly. Just listen.”

Ian’s mother, Philia, was strikingly beautiful—no wonder she had caught Derga’s attention.

Philia started to raise her head but hesitated at Ian’s words. The cloth covered her face, so only her chest was visible.

“Ian. Ian…”

“Mother, I’m doing well. I received your letters. Please don’t worry about me.”

Drops of tears fell silently, and Ian watched quietly. Sorry, but there was no time. The men behind him wouldn’t take their eyes off him.

“Please understand that I can no longer send greetings through Hana as before. And I have a favor to ask.”

Ian pulled a gold coin from his pocket.

“Did you put this in?”

“What? A gold coin?”

Philia looked completely unaware. As expected, the count was still supporting her materially—a subtle reminder.

Ian smiled gently and placed the coin in her hand.

“Prepare well to hide yourself with this money. I’ll let you know the timing through Hana.”

Whether she liked it or not, Philia was currently Ian’s biggest obstacle. To take down Derga, it was best to eliminate all predictable variables.

The woman held the coin quietly and looked up, clearly confused by what the child was saying.

“Ian. Your eyes…”

“Promise me. Promise you’ll do this for me.”

His golden eyes shone like a lion’s. Startled, Philia blinked, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Ian, if you want to run away, you can.”

“Mother, I’m sorry, but…”

“Ian!”

The servant arrived, placing drinks and snacks on the table. Mac called to Ian, but the boy couldn’t look away. He couldn’t show his golden eyes to these people.

“I’m sorry for sending you away like this. If you want, don’t hesitate to run.”

Mac approached slowly, his expression growing more puzzled the closer he got. It seemed the woman had come to convey her resolve to Ian. She didn’t dare take his hand, only gripping his sleeve tightly.

“I won’t run.”

Ian added quietly, as if making a firm decision.

“Whenever you can, gather Gula seeds. They’ll surely be of great help later. And forget the song you used to sing to me. The lyrics I send in letters from now on will be a code.”

Mac stood right behind him. Ian released his magic and smiled faintly. His golden eyes and the red glow of the brooch faded instantly.

“I’ll take the plant. That should be enough.”

“Ian? Is something wrong?”

“Sorry, Lord Mac. I took a while deciding whether to buy it or not.”

Ian picked up the potted plant with a smile. Mac studied his expression carefully but saw only calmness. He glanced at the ragged figure and then led the boy away.

“Master Chel is weaker than expected.”

He whispered, chuckling as he teased Chel. Ian smiled and glanced back briefly. Philia lay down completely, covered by the cloth. A woman who knew how to cry silently.

“You bought the plant, Ian.”

“What kind of plant is it?”

At Dregor’s question, Ian just smiled. What did it matter? He wasn’t knowledgeable about plants, but from the letters, it was clear it was the one the child had been tending.

“I don’t know. I just thought the flowers were beautiful.”

“I’ve never seen it before… Mac! You know it, right?”

“How would I?”

“Aren’t you the expert on bouquets?”

“Dregor! Really!”

Surprisingly, no one there seemed to know the plant’s identity. The red petals, like a watercolor painting, were so vivid they were unforgettable.

Ian carefully hugged the pot and looked back. The woman had already disappeared.

---

Click.

“We’ve arrived.”

The coachman opened the door, and Deo staggered out, still clearly drunk. At the gate, servants holding lanterns waited for them.

“Master, you’re back?”

“You must be tired. Please come inside.”

“Master Ian, please come to the study first.”

They efficiently took their coats and handed out wet towels. Ian entrusted the plant to a servant and headed upstairs.

Knock knock.

“Come in.”

The door opened almost immediately. They must have been waiting a while. Inside, Derga stopped moving his quill.

“The brooch.”

Before any greetings, he checked the brooch. Ian approached the desk and took off the brooch from his chest.

“What did you talk about?”

“Nothing special. Lunch was in the manor’s parlor, mostly about the capital. Afterward, we went to a nearby park for an academic discussion.”

“Is that all?”

Derga brushed his mustache and picked up the brooch. Next to him was a glass container filled with a clear liquid—a potion to activate the magic stone.

Splash.

The magic stone submerged in the liquid glowed. The voice echoed slowly, like waves spreading from a drum.

[…Is this the manor?]

[An official from the capital… sent here… It’s clean… feels like home…]

“What did it say about ‘feels like home’?”

“It seems to mean they’re living comfortably.”

The voice was unclear, probably due to the low-grade magic stone. Ian sighed inwardly.

‘So this is how they meticulously check for inaccuracies.’

He was tired and seriously considered just blasting the stone to pieces. Just then, footsteps approached. It was Lady Mary, the countess.

“May I have a moment?”

“What is it?”

Her stern expression was full of anger. Derga frowned as he took the brooch, and the countess strode forward, glaring at Ian. She clearly hated the situation.

“Do you plan to keep Chel under surveillance every time that lowborn wanders outside? Skipping classes just to follow and watch him!”

“Where are you yelling now!”

“Does it look like I’m not going to do it?”

Chel’s state upon arrival was pitiful—soaked in sweat, staggering like a drowned pig.

Mary declared she would never send the child to a watcher again, and Derga raised his voice. Tensions, already high, flared like a spark.

“Listen.”

Ian watched them quietly for a moment before stepping in. He had no reason to listen to another ear-piercing marital fight.

“I’ll take my leave first, Father. I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

With that, he slipped out of the office as if melting into the shadows. It seemed to be a common occurrence—servants hurried past, shrinking into themselves as they moved down the corridor. Hastily descending the stairs, Ian ran into Hana.

“Ian.”

“Master Ian. I’ve placed the potted plants in your room.”

“Thank you. Thanks to you, everything went smoothly.”

He meant that his meeting with his mother had gone well. Hana followed behind him, chattering away.

“Now that I think about it, the park is really huge. So I told them that Portro, where the guests stay, is closest to Gate 3.”

Ian opened the door and glanced back at the girl. No wonder it had gone so smoothly—Hana had handled everything perfectly. She was sharp and truly helpful.

“Good. Thanks. Let me know if there’s anything you want to eat.”

“Yes, Master Ian. Thank you!”

After tidying up the lantern, Hana bowed politely and left.

Though not as utterly exhausted as Chel, Ian’s legs were numb and he felt worn out. He collapsed onto the bed with a sigh, muttering to himself.

“This isn’t good… Maybe I should take Chel with me and head to the training grounds.”

It was time to start moving again, to build up his strength. A turbulent time was surely coming.

For the first time in his life, Ian fell asleep face down, completely drained.