The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 12.1

A bl00d-soaked helmet was removed, revealing pitch-black hair underneath.

Lyle gazed over the battlefield, letting the cold winter wind cool his heated body. The scene before him was one of utter ruin, with corpses strewn across the crumbling fortress walls as if a calamity had swept through.

“Your Majesty, so here you are.”

Stephan approached Lyle briskly. Lyle hadn’t brought him along for this battle, having assigned him to a different task, which seemed to be completed now.

“Is it finished?”

“Yes.”

Stephan took Lyle’s helmet, looking down at the desolate fortress alongside him.

“This marks the end of it all.”

“Yes.”

Lyle counted the time since he had left the capital.

Has it been about three weeks?

With this, the annihilation of all rebel forces, excluding those in the eastern direct territory, was complete. This also meant that the preparations for the final assault on the supposedly impregnable fortress had been concluded.

The eastern stronghold, renowned for its formidable defenses, was notorious for being nearly impossible to capture. Positioned strategically, it would be even more challenging with enemies at their rear. Hence, Lyle had decided to isolate the direct territory by subduing the surrounding regions first.

The strategy had succeeded more easily than anticipated, trapping the rebels like rats in a cage. Now, it would take less than two weeks to defeat the remaining rebels and return to the capital.

Others might have scoffed at such a claim. To conquer an impregnable fortress filled with rebels in just two weeks? The task of taking over that massive fortress, equipped for complete self-sufficiency and with walls towering sky-high, was something that could take at least six months.

But for Lyle, it was an achievable task. He was practically a god of war, having never lost a battle he commanded.

After over a decade of fighting in the brutal northern war zones, the eastern rebels seemed like nothing more than a ragtag group of misfits to him. Moreover, unlike before, he now had well-trained soldiers, an established chain of command, and timely, flawless supplies.

Being an emperor has its perks.

The difference from before was like night and day.

Yet, despite the success of the battles, Lyle’s mind was in turmoil.

“……”

Once the civil war ended, he would have to return to the palace. And when he did, there would be no avoiding it this time—the confrontation with his empress and… the conversation with his former fiancée, whom he had thought dead for two years.

It was absurd to believe that someone could return from the dead. Yet, he had no choice but to believe, because it was true. With a conflicted expression, Lyle opened the pendant he always wore around his neck.

Inside was a portrait of a young Yernen.

He had tried countless times to discard the pendant… but never could. Just as he couldn’t rid himself of the feelings he harbored for Yernen.

The night he discovered Yernen’s true identity, Lyle had sat beside the sleeping Yernen, staring at that delicate neck, consumed by relentless thoughts. Thoughts of wanting to strangle him.

That was the essence of Lyle’s feelings. A searing hatred that made him want to kill Yernen that very moment. And yet, he couldn’t.

It was a deeply twisted emotion. Some would call such a feeling a blend of love and hate—a paradox known as obsession.

“…….”

But no matter what emotions he harbored, the Yernen in the photograph remained serene and unaffected. The young Yernen, not frowning or expressing anger, looked only radiant and beautiful.
“It was like this when I first saw him too.”

That first encounter—when Yernen was even younger than in the photograph—came to mind. On that day, Lyle had the exact same thought: that Yernen was the most beautiful, luminous being he had ever seen. It was then that a pure affection had taken root in his heart.

“…Hah.”

Lyle let out a chuckle filled with self-derision.

“Yes, that’s how it was.”

There had been a time, unlike now, when things were different.

At the age of five, Lyle Beltimore was a proud and stubborn child who would not bow his head to anyone, not even his parents, unless he chose to. He was also a child who harbored a strong resentment towards the imperial family.

When he thought of the imperial court, he would mutter:
“Disgusting.”

The reason was simple: he had been summoned to the capital by imperial command, under the pretense of being evaluated as a potential fiancé for the youngest prince.

It was an absurd reason. It wasn’t even to formally propose an engagement, but simply for the prince to see him and decide if he was suitable. The whole situation was intolerable for Lyle’s pride. Yet, his parents had taken him to the capital as if following the emperor’s orders was the most natural thing in the world.

For young Lyle, this was a profound shock.

The House of Beltimore was essentially the royal family of the north. The north had only recently become part of the empire, and Lyle’s great-grandfather had once been the king of that region. After being incorporated into the empire, the House of Beltimore was granted the title of Grand Duke in recognition of their autonomy over the north.

The Beltimore family was the only house to receive a grand duke’s title, making it the most powerful family next to the imperial one. His retainers always reminded Lyle that even the imperial family could not treat them lightly.

Yet here were his parents, practically the rulers of the north, obeying an imperial order that wasn’t even an engagement proposal but just a chance for the youngest prince to meet Lyle. The fact that they immediately prepared for the journey to the capital stunned Lyle.

“What is the emperor, to dare give orders like this?”

Arriving at the imperial palace with a heart full of resentment, Lyle seized the first opportunity to slip away while his parents were momentarily distracted.

It was outrageous, truly. Lyle hadn’t even seen this youngest prince, Yernen, whose approval would determine if he had to engage without choice. It was unthinkable.

Determined, Lyle set out to escape the palace and return to the north.

But there was one thing Lyle, visiting the palace for the first time, hadn’t considered: the palace was vast.

“It just goes on and on.”

After walking for what felt like an eternity, Lyle had to admit it—he was lost.

The idea of sneaking out unnoticed was a mere fantasy. The palace was structured so that without guidance from someone who knew it well, escape was impossible.

Quickly assessing the situation, Lyle scanned his surroundings and headed for the nearest location. He just needed to find someone who could guide him out; it didn’t matter who. His choice turned out to be both fortunate and unfortunate.

He heard voices nearby, which was promising—it meant people were around. But as he drew closer, the sounds weren’t exactly welcoming.

“If you say that to Dave again, I won’t let it go!”

A young, sharp voice rang out.

It was the type he loathed: spoiled children who threw fits just because they were born of noble bl00d.

The worst kind.

Crash!

“Great.”

A thrown teacup. The kid seemed to have all the makings of a true brat.

Lyle felt a slight curiosity stirring in him. What did this ill-tempered child look like? It might have been wise to avoid the scene and find another way out, as anyone there would be too occupied pacifying the child to help him.

Yes, that’s what he would normally do. But an odd impulse drew him forward. Was it because the high-pitched voice didn’t bother him as much as he expected? Or was it because the refined cadence in the voice was a dialect he’d never heard before, elegant and captivating?

Lyle took a step toward the source of the voice.

“Yernen, don’t be too harsh on Lizzy. After all, we are going to be one family.”

“Ugh, so annoying. Tell him to break the engagement!”

And when Lyle parted the low hedge and arrived at the scene, he saw—

“Ah…”

An angel.

“Who are you, to dare emerge in my garden?”

“Ah…”

Lyle struggled to speak.

The sunlight caught the delicate golden hair, giving it a soft glow. The fine, flawless face framed by elegant features, the graceful posture, even the angry expression—it was all…

“…….”

For young Lyle, the sight of the child was utterly overwhelming.
The woman standing beside the child, who shared the same shade of hair, spoke.

“Are you Lyle, by any chance?”

Lyle snapped out of his daze at her words.

“…Yes.”

Finally, his mind started working, and he understood.

Golden hair tinged with ash—it was a color unique to the royal family. That meant the two before him were royalty. And… there was only one royal his age.

Yernen Helio. The youngest prince, and potentially his future fiancé, who the emperor cherished above all.

“Come to think of it, the Grand Duke of Beltimore’s son was named Lyle, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, Lyle Beltimore. I remember Father mentioning an imperial command for an engagement prospect for our little one, so it’s today.”

“Oh, so the candidate for my subordinate has arrived.”

Lyle’s heart pounded with certainty. The angelic-looking child was indeed the emperor’s youngest son, Yernen Helio. And judging by his expression, Yernen didn’t seem particularly fond of him.

“I don’t take fools as my subordinates…”

That meant his chances of being chosen were slim. This couldn’t happen. Lyle stood up straight, assuming a composed posture.
In that moment, the reason he was here—his plan to refuse the engagement and escape—vanished from his mind.

“Are you Prince Yernen?”

“Yes.”

Yernen’s voice was firm.

For some reason, Lyle thought that confident demeanor suited him well. The poise and self-assurance.

Lyle grinned and reached out a hand to the prince on the chair, following the graceful manners of the central region. Yernen, seemingly pleased, extended his own hand in response, looking mildly impressed.

Lyle confirmed that Yernen had descended safely before dropping to one knee and kissing the back of Yernen’s hand.

“Lyle Beltimore of the Grand Duchy of Beltimore greets Your Highness.”

“So, you wish to be my subordinate.”

“How could I not?”

That day, for the first time, Lyle learned what it meant to fall in love at first sight. He understood what it felt like to yearn for something, and perhaps, for the first time, he realized just how vivid and beautiful the world around him was.

‘… That’s how it was.’

From that moment on, Lyle fell helplessly for Yernen. At first, it was his appearance that captivated him, but as time passed and he got to know him, Lyle became infatuated with Yernen Helio—the person, not just the prince.

So, the proud Lyle, who would have scoffed at anyone else, became a simpleton in Yernen’s presence, ready to do anything he wished, even to the point of sacrificing everything for him.
And in return for that devotion… he was discarded.

At some point, Yernen began to avoid him, maintaining distance and filling Lyle’s empty place with others. Those who pretended to be meek around Yernen dropped their masks when he wasn’t around, approaching Lyle to taunt him.

“Do you really think he’ll marry you? You’ll soon be discarded like a broken kite.”

Though Lyle knew those words were driven by petty jealousy, he found it increasingly difficult to ignore them. He could sense that something between them was off.

In an effort to mend their relationship, Lyle constantly tried to reach out to Yernen. But Yernen avoided him, refusing to speak and pushing him away. Just when Lyle finally managed to arrange a private meeting with Yernen, devastating news arrived from the Grand Duchy.

His parents had died suddenly.

The news shattered Lyle, leaving him unable to think clearly.
It didn’t make sense. His parents, who had been perfectly healthy the last time he saw them, weren’t old enough to succumb to sudden illness.