Episode 88
Marib showed no sign of surprise at Gale’s sudden visit. He had expected it, so his reaction was calm, though clearly not pleased.
“What’s the matter? You didn’t take a wrong turn, did you?”
“Who in their right mind would tell a servant to announce their arrival and then get lost?”
Marib finally looked up from the documents he’d been reading. As always, Gale’s blue eyes gleamed fiercely, like a wild animal’s. The servant standing behind Gale shrank back slightly at the intensity.
“I’m busy. Get straight to the point.”
“Have you decided what to do about Ian Molin?”
“That’s an interesting way to put it. What Ian does is none of my concern.”
Without permission, Gale flopped down on the sofa, crossing his legs arrogantly as he glared at his half-brother.
“Even the lowest clerks know you’re pushing that lowborn brat. Don’t pretend you don’t.”
If Marib weren’t backing Ian, there’d be no way he’d hand over a lordship to him. There were dozens, maybe hundreds, scheming for that position. Yet here he was, giving a title to someone he’d never even met.
“So?”
“When Ian moves up to the capital, it’d be best if Molin and his group accompany him fully.”
“That sounds pretty harsh. To me, it sounds like a threat.”
“Not at all. You just want to hear it that way. Once Ian’s title is officially granted, he’ll be under the jurisdiction of the Magic Department. You know what that means.”
“Ah, yes. That means he’ll be under your lover Wesley’s command, right?”
It was a veiled warning: if Molin and his group died on the way, Ian would quietly fall under the same fate. But if Marib didn’t fully recognize Ian as his own, the warning was meaningless.
Marib removed his glasses and pressed the bridge of his nose lightly, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips.
“I’m surprised, Gale. You care so much about Molin and his group? Honestly, I hadn’t given them much thought, but now you’ve piqued my interest.”
He decided then and there: they had to be eliminated. He hadn’t cared before—his duties kept him busy, and Molin’s group wasn’t important enough at court to warrant attention. But Gale’s attitude changed everything.
“You’d be wise to drop this.”
“Why?”
“I just came from Father’s palace.”
Gale shifted the topic, having stopped by the Emperor’s court first. The mention of ‘Father’ made Marib frown instinctively. Every time the Emperor and Gale met, something unpleasant inevitably happened to him.
‘Just like now.’
“You know there will be discussions about appointing a new Chief Justice at the New Year’s assembly.”
Of course. If the Magic Department and parts of the executive branch were Gale’s power base, then the judiciary and legislature supported Marib. The Chief Justice was the head of the judiciary and, excluding the royal family, held the fourth highest authority in the palace.
“I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
“Have you seen the list of potions the Magic Department recently developed? They call it the ‘Truth Serum.’ It’s made by extracting abilities mostly seen in gypsies. Drink it, and you can only tell the truth.”
Marib, who had been sitting, finally stood up.
“Gale, you bastard…”
“They suggested using it as a demonstration during the Chief Justice’s confirmation hearing. They said it would be perfect—there are so many snakes with forked tongues spouting lies. It’d be quite a show to see them swear oaths and make solemn promises under its influence.”
The problem wasn’t discerning truth from lies. The problem was that the potion was made by the Magic Department. Who knew if it would force people to lie instead, or make them say whatever the creators wanted?
In theory, it was a potion the empire needed, but it was premature. At least, it should only be used after purging any impure intentions from the Magic Department.
“It seems you’ve already set your sights on Sir Hailot as Chief Justice. If that’s the case, you’d better bring Molin and his group to the assembly. Otherwise, you’ll have to find someone else.”
“Gale, what you’re doing is dragging the empire backward. Don’t you realize that?”
“No, I don’t. Fire is dangerous, but it’s necessary. The truth serum is the same. There will be chaos at first, but over time, its value will be undeniable. And I suspect Sir Hailot will be at the center of that chaos.”
Gale smirked, and Marib felt an overwhelming urge to throw everything on his desk. More than any other provocation, the involvement of the Magic Department was the real problem. They were so independent and powerful that there was no way to keep them in check.
‘Even if the potions are garbage, there’s no way to verify it. Damn it. Gale, you’re a pain in the ass every single time…’
Their expressions were always inversely related: when one smiled, the other’s face tightened. Marib swallowed a sigh, trying to keep his composure.
“Do you really think this will pass?”
“Some ministers will resist, for various reasons.”
Some, like Marib, would point out fundamental flaws; others would oppose it to hide their own dark motives.
“But the overall decision to check the judiciary will come from the executive branch. That means Father’s opinion carries the most weight.”
Reluctantly, Marib admitted the Emperor’s favor always leaned toward Gale. It was a legacy of the unbalanced love from their mother.
“Ridiculous. You’re the one who’d suffer the most if you drank that potion.”
“Me? Oh? You think so? I’d guess you’d be the one in more trouble.”
Gale’s cheeky reply left Marib momentarily speechless. Of course, Gale’s confidence came from having Wesley, head of the Magic Department, on his side.
“Anyway, think carefully.”
“Stop pretending to give me options. Whether Molin lives or dies, Hailot will have to drink that truth serum at the hearing.”
If that’s the case, it’d be better to just kill Molin. There was still time to figure out the potion issue.
Gale put on his coat and chuckled.
“This is why you and I are so different.”
“…What?”
“You’d do it your way, no matter what kind of man Hailot is.”
Hailot was rare—highly competent, with an excellent reputation and achievements. Taking him down as revenge made no sense, especially considering Bariel’s future.
“I really don’t like your way of thinking. You act like everything was handed to you at birth, so you don’t appreciate anything. People, or anything else.”
“Shut up! What do you know?”
Marib couldn’t hold back and shouted. Handed everything at birth? What nonsense. That guy just never shuts up…
“Well, I’ll be going. Hopefully, no bad news comes your way.”
With that, Gale stormed out of Marib’s office. The aide cautiously stepped inside, but Marib lowered his head, pressing his temples.
“Your Highness, are you alright?”
“Enough.”
Judging by Gale’s behavior, if Molin died, an additional investigation team would likely be dispatched. Gritting his teeth, Marib gave orders.
“Call an emergency council meeting immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
The aide placed a letter from the border on the corner of the desk and left. It was one of many reports regularly sent to Romandro. The section asking about Molin’s fate appeared repeatedly, but Marib could only reply with ‘pending.’
‘Damn it.’
A deep crease formed between Marib’s finely arched brows. He felt like plunging a sword into Gale’s throat right now.
“Why? Are you still worried about Molin? I sometimes forget he even exists since he’s always underground.”
Romandro’s words made Ian shake his head. No, he wasn’t worried. He was just trying to understand why they couldn’t decide on the administrator’s fate.
‘It seems Gale’s side must have intervened, ordering a hold. Interesting. In other words, Gale is trying to save Molin.’
Was Molin really that important? Ian wasn’t sure. Though he was in charge of Bratz, he seemed sidelined even in the executive branch. Loyal, yes, but too old and limited in overall performance.
Maybe Molin had hidden value, or Gale was just the type to look after his own family properly. Or maybe…
‘Is it because it’s Bratz?’
Among all the border regions, why Bratz? Ian suddenly realized he’d overlooked something. He guessed there were covert operations underway to secure troop deployment bases in other border regions, but he had no way to confirm.
‘Merellof seems unresponsive.’
Romandro’s visit was the first from the capital in a long time. While Ian pondered, they arrived at the parlor where Lady Rien was waiting.
“Madam?”
“Oh, are you done with your work?”
She was half-reclined on the sofa, looking bored to the point of restlessness. Her hair was slightly tousled—whether from her posture or the count’s doing, Ian couldn’t tell.
“No, I’m still moving things.”
“At this rate, it’ll be dawn before we finish.”
“If you like, I can show you around the estate.”
“If I did that, our lord husband would probably throw a fit again, so I must politely decline.”
The lady blew on her nails and muttered her exciting plans for the future.
“It’d be best to start counting the days from today. In just one month, we’ll finally get to see what we’ve been waiting for.”
“One month? What are you talking about?”
“Oh, darling.”
Lady Lien greeted her husband with a bright smile, as if nothing was amiss.
Count Mereloff shot suspicious glances between Ian and his wife. The young man, close to his wife’s age, was a handsome figure—objectively good-looking enough to get under the count’s skin. Perfect conditions for ruffling his nerves.
“In a month, we’ll be able to cultivate Gula. That’s what I was saying. Is that so hard to understand? I’m really exhausted—I can’t wait any longer.”
One month. That was exactly when the side effects of the hallucinogenic sleeping pills would kick in. The day the count might stop breathing in his sleep. Ian caught on to his wife’s meaning but pretended not to notice, nodding casually.
“From what I saw earlier, it still seems far off.”
“Ah, Sir Ian, it’s not about that. I just got word from Hyman Bank here in Mereloff.”
“Yes? Please, go on.”
“Lately, bandits have been rampant in other regions, and I don’t know if you’re aware, but with winter coming, crossing the mountain ranges has become extremely difficult.”
“And?”
Hmm? This sounds fishy. Romandro snorted, bracing himself to give a sharp retort.
“The problem is, we’ve run out of check paper, so I’m hoping you could delay the payment date by just one day.”
“No, Count, that won’t do. The ink on the contract isn’t even dry yet.”
“Then what? Should I come to your estate and haul the rest of the gold coins over by carriage?”
The remaining 2,500 gold coins. Moving even a thousand was a nightmare, and now he was expected to move two and a half times that? Romandro flinched, but Ian stepped forward.
“Count, this is clearly a breach of contract. We agreed to receive payment by check, as stated in the contract. We expect the remaining balance to be paid as agreed.”
“Ahem. I’m just asking for your understanding here.”
“I’m not interested in a losing deal.”
Ian’s firm stance made Count Mereloff scowl deeply. He had hoped to brush this off quietly, but Ian was more resolute than expected. The count glanced at his wife and said,
“Wife, why don’t you put up what you’re wearing as collateral? The necklace, earrings, rings—something like that should do.”
Caught off guard by the sudden command, the lady barely suppressed a bitter laugh. What choice did she have? If ordered, she had to comply. One by one, she removed her jewelry and placed them on the table.
‘Huh?’
Then Ian’s eyes caught a ring—the one on her left index finger. The gemstone looked incredibly familiar.
‘Is that amber? Or…’
The same jewel he had found on the necklace in his flowerpot?
He stepped closer and picked up the ring.