The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 1.2

Everyone’s gaze was directed at different places. But in the end, they were all united in the fact that it was his body. Some gazed at his flushed face, some at his bulging belly, some at his snow-white hips, some at the slender calves beneath them, some at his salivating mouth, but none of it bothered him. Getting the water out of his backside was all Yernen could think about.

There was no protection behind him, and whenever he was distracted, the dirty water would gurgle out. Sitting cross-legged, Yernen could barely resist the urge to defecate.
‘What?!’

Yernen’s voice trembled with rage, but it was futile. His outburst fell on deaf ears.
Naturally so.

Yernen Helio, once adored by the Emperor and Empress, once destined to be the cherished consort of the Archduke of Beltimore, was now nothing more than a prisoner on a remote island within the Imperial Palace. Once treated as royalty, he had now fallen to the status of a plaything, no more than a mere sex slave, at the mercy of those who now controlled his fate.

“Time is running out, so let’s proceed to the next step.”

“What…? No, stop…!”

One of the knights grabbed Yernen by the ankle as he crouched in the corner. In one rough movement, he was lifted off the ground, exposing the private and vulnerable parts of him that he desperately wished to hide.

“No, no, no…! Stop! No… Ugh!”

Suddenly, his body flinched, and the shock caused a gush of dirty water to escape his body, the result of an earlier humiliation.

Drip, drip, drip.

The sound of the falling water was deafening in the silence.

“Hmph, hmph…”

But Yernen already understood. This was only the beginning of what was to come.

“Spread him open. Right here.”

A chilling voice echoed through the room.
“Stop, please!”

No matter how hard he tried to resist, the knights relentlessly flipped Yernen’s body over. In moments, a hand slipped between his now-wet thighs and buttocks.

“Ah…!”

“Young Master! Are you alright? Another nightmare?”

‘Was it… a dream?’

Yernen looked down at his hands. His pale, unblemished hands were free of scars. Yes… it was just a dream.

The moment he realized this, the few tears that had trickled down earlier turned into heavy drops falling from his eyes.

He turned toward the voice. It was Tommy, the one who had always been by his side, the shadow that never left him from the Portnum family. Seeing Tommy’s face, Yernen understood where he was. This wasn’t the imperial palace. This was the Portnum estate.

“…It seems so.”

Yes, he was no longer trapped on that isolated island. This place… was safe.
“Are you alright? Oh, what a shame… You haven’t been having nightmares lately, but of all days, today you had one like this.”
He was surrounded by warm people, people who cared for him—people who would make sure he’d never go through that again.
“Seems that way.”

But Yernen felt like he still hadn’t fully escaped the horror of that dreadful nightmare.

“…I want to wash.”

As he trembled slightly, he thought about why he had that particular dream today.

‘…It’s probably because Lyle is coming today. That’s why.’

“Please… come save me….”

That day, the first time he had been violated by those men, after everyone had left, Yernen had gone to the lakeside to wash his tainted body. It was the dead of winter, but he couldn’t stop scrubbing himself, even as his body grew colder like ice.

On that day, Yernen let go of his pride, of everything, and sobbed uncontrollably as he cried out for Lyle. Begging him to come and save him.
Perhaps that’s why he dreamed of it today.
At Tommy’s call, the nanny arrived, her eyes filled with concern as she gently helped Jernen to his feet.

“I’ll assist you with your bath,” she said softly.

“Alright,” Yernen replied, his steps unsteady as he slowly made his way to the bathroom.
The warm water, rich with the scent of rose oil, embraced his skin as he lowered himself into the bath. Although it was early summer, the morning air remained chilly, and the hot water brought immediate relief, easing his tension.

Yernen glanced down at his body, narrowing his eyes. His pale, slender frame looked smooth and delicate, lacking any sign of muscle. Yet he knew the truth—how far this frail body had come.
It had been two years since he had awakened in the body of his nephew, Yernen Portnum Helio, and those years had been nothing short of grueling.
‘It was hell,’ he thought bitterly, a shudder of disgust running through him.

The day he first woke up in this body had been a nightmare. As soon as he tried to stand, he had fainted.

The reason was simple: this body had never once stood on its own. Even lifting his upper body had caused a drastic pressure change, something the weak form couldn’t withstand.

This body had been as fragile as a worm.
The past two years—spent forcing this worthless body to stand, walk, speak, and even write—had been nothing short of a tear-filled ordeal.
His sister, desperate to save her only child, had done everything she could. She hired a priest to continuously channel divine energy into him, keeping him alive. But that only extended his life, nothing more.

The body had been so weak that it hadn’t even developed the muscles needed for speech.
When Yernen regained consciousness after fainting, he could do nothing but blink, lying there like a lifeless doll.

Had he acted out in his typical fits of anger, as he had in his previous life, he would have instantly revealed his true identity, putting himself in an impossible situation.

Fortunately, the weakness of his voice gave him time to think, time to process. It allowed him to understand the reality of his situation.
By some cruel twist of fate, he had reincarnated into the body of his nephew, the eldest son of the Duke of Portnum and the Southern Admiral.
The entire situation was nothing short of ridiculous.

In his previous life, Yernen had been born as the youngest son of the late Emperor Beynon Helio.
At birth, the temple confirmed his secondary gender as omega, and he was raised accordingly.

It was only natural that such a cherished child of the emperor would be paired with the strongest alpha. From a young age, Yernen had been betrothed to Lyle Beltimore, the only son of the powerful northern family.

However, Yernen never manifested as an omega, and the engagement fell apart.

In a cruel act of humiliation, Yernen’s eldest brother forced Lyle into an engagement with the unconscious child of the Portnum family—Cecil’s only son, who shared Yernen’s name and had been in a coma since birth.

Now, Yernen found himself in that very body. No longer just Yernen Helio, but the omega heir to the throne, engaged to Lyle Beltimore.

It felt like a twisted joke played by fate.

‘How strange… Five years ago, I never imagined things would turn out like this.’

“Young Master, are you warm now?” came a gentle voice.

“Yes,” Yernen replied quietly with a nod.
Two attendants began to wash him with care, their touch tender and thoughtful.

As they worked, his mind wandered. If he was now in this body, where was his real nephew?

For two years, Yernen had questioned what had happened to the real heir, waiting for any sign of his return. But even after all this time, there had been no trace.

‘Time is running out,’ he thought, feeling the soft fabric of the robe as it was draped over him before he stepped out of the bath.

“Melissa!” a voice called.

“What is it, Tommy?” the nanny asked.

“His Majesty has already arrived!” the young servant announced, his voice rushed with urgency.

“Already?” Melissa’s surprise was evident.

“Young Master, His Majesty has arrived early. What shall we do?”

Yernen frowned.

“Tell him to wait.”

“B-but…!”

“Are you going to ignore what I just said, nanny?”

Yernen’s eyes flared up in anger.
‘Oh my goodness…!’

The nanny was startled. She knew all too well how volatile her young master could become when he was upset.

“No, of course not, my lord! Oh, my dear, calm down. Here, have some warm milk tea to soothe your nerves,” she said, quickly offering a cup.
Sip.

But the nanny hadn’t spent the last two years idle. She always carried a cup of strong black tea with milk, doubled in sweetness, knowing it was the only thing that could calm Yernen when he was angry.

As the sweetness entered his system, the sharp edge in Yernen’s expression slowly softened.
‘Phew.’

The nanny let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Tommy, go explain the situation to His Majesty, and Andrew, hurry up and dry the young master’s hair.”

“Yes, ma’am!” they both responded in unison.

As soon as the door to the drawing room opened, a smooth voice greeted them.

“Running late?”

It had been a while since Yernen had seen that smirking face. He ignored Lyle’s greeting and sat down opposite him, resting his hand on the armrest of the sofa.

“What do you want?” he asked bluntly.

“Hah.”

Lyle let out an amused laugh.

“Still not in the phase where you speak politely, huh?”

‘Interesting.’

Yernen raised his chin slightly, as if daring him to continue.

“The wedding date has been set. It’s in October.”
Four months away.

It had been five years since their engagement and two years since Yernen had awoken in this body. That meant Lyle had been solidifying his position as emperor for two years as well. It was about time they prepared for the state wedding.

“A wedding?”

“Yes, marriage. You do know what that is, don’t you?”

A wedding with Lyle Beltimore.

There was a time when Yernen had desperately longed for that day. He had begged the former emperor to arrange the marriage quickly, and when his pleas weren’t granted, he had even gone on a hunger strike like a stubborn child. It had been the one thing he had wanted more than anything.

Yernen picked up the milk tea that the nanny had discreetly placed in front of him. With a graceful gesture, he took a sip, savoring the warmth that spread through his body. His slightly chilled skin began to warm again, and as he enjoyed that pleasant sensation, he finally spoke.

“Declined.”

“…What?”

Lyle’s smug expression froze, as if he’d been turned to stone.

“I’m rejecting the state marriage.”

“What…?”

“Lyle Beltimore.”

“…?”

Lyle stared at Yernen, utterly baffled.

“You said I haven’t learned respect, didn’t you?”
“I did, yeah.”

A smirk tugged at Yernen’s lips.

“And why exactly should I respect someone like you?”

“What…?”

Lyle, stunned, could only repeat himself as if he couldn’t process Yernen’s defiance.

“The people of the Empire don’t serve the emperor. They serve the Helio family, the bloodline that has produced emperors for generations. And you…”

Yernen set his cup down with a sharp clink and continued.

“You only sit on the throne because you’re my fiancé, the last heir of the Helio family. No matter how heroic your conquests of the North or how powerful you are, it’s my blood that keeps you in power.”

Lyle gaped, too stunned to respond.
“But I don’t like your attitude.”

With those final words, Yernen stood up to leave.
“W-wait,” Lyle stammered, trying to stop him, but Yernen was already walking away.

“Nanny.”

“Y-yes?” The nanny’s face was a mix of confusion and panic.

“Send a formal letter to the palace tomorrow, announcing the annulment.”

“D-dear lord…!”

“And escort him out.”

“Ah!”

Tommy, who had been nervously trailing behind, seemed shocked, his mouth dropping open in disbelief.

The state marriage.

It would happen eventually—it was a necessary step to complete the grand plans he had before his death. In fact, awakening in this body had given him the chance to see everything through.