The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 2.3

“Yernen, why are you so upset this time?”

With a bright smile, Lyle sat casually on the edge of Yernen’s bed, speaking to him with the ease of familiarity. Yernen shot him a look filled with annoyance—it was the face of Lyle, his ever-smooth fiancé, whom he often found irritating.

Yernen, sulking, said nothing and turned away.
Lyle, still playful, gently ran his fingers through Yernen’s soft ash-blonde hair.

“You need to see the princess soon; there’s not much time left,” Lyle reminded him.

“Why does she have to go to the South?!” Yernen grumbled.

Lately, Yernen had been in a foul mood. A skirmish had broken out in the southern region of the Empire, and while it was technically a small-scale conflict, everyone knew how persistent the raiders from the small continent across the sea could be. This war had disrupted Yernen’s peaceful life.

The Helio royal family, unlike other royal families rife with internal strife, had always been close, and they were Yernen’s whole world. His loving parents, siblings, and the nobles who doted on him made his life perfect.

But ever since the war began, his father, the emperor, had become so busy that Yernen only saw him briefly at mealtimes. His eldest brother, Harriet, who had once spent time with him, had also become distant, preoccupied with other matters.

Yernen had never cared much for his second brother, Illian, who was always out socializing with noble heirs and playing the leader among them. But that didn’t bother Yernen because he still had Lyle and Cecile.

Now, however, Cecile was leaving too.
Yernen, who adored his sister and insisted on seeing her at least once a day, was in no mood to accept this.

“This is all Ethan’s fault,” Yernen muttered.
He had even thrown a tantrum in the hallway, lying down and refusing to let anyone take his sister to the South. He had shouted for them to postpone the wedding, insisting no one could take her away. But nothing changed.

Ethan, Cecile’s fiancé, was the only heir of the Portnum Duchy. The Portnum family, with its vast southern estates and control over maritime trade, was wealthy and influential, but they were primarily a military family, with generations serving as commanders of the Empire’s navy. With the outbreak of war, Ethan had to remain in the South to defend the Empire, and Cecile, who had just turned twenty, chose to accompany him, as required by imperial law for adult royals.

Yernen’s father, who usually granted his every whim, gently but firmly told him this time that Cecile had to leave. Furious, Yernen had refused to eat dinner and breakfast, staging his protest.
“But Yernen, it’s the duty of the Portnum family to protect the South,” Lyle said, blowing on a spoonful of soup and offering it to Yernen.

Still pouting, Yernen opened his mouth and took a bite, despite his sour expression. The truth was, he was hungry.

Having been pampered all his life, Yernen had never experienced real hunger. His meals were always prepared with care, and his attendants constantly brought him snacks and tea. The idea of skipping a meal was something Yernen only used as a protest tactic, knowing it would throw the palace into chaos, with both the emperor and empress deeply concerned for their youngest son’s health. When Yernen missed two meals, the emperor himself would visit his room.

Lyle, who was used to Yernen’s sulking, was always the one to coax him into eating.
After his third spoonful of soup, Yernen looked at Lyle with a troubled expression—one so endearing it was almost unbearable.

“What if something happens to her? How long will the war last? I looked through the history books, and whenever there’s a conflict in the South, it takes at least three years for things to settle down. Does that mean I won’t see her for that long?” Yernen asked, his voice full of worry.

“She’ll probably be able to come back once things calm down—maybe in six months,” Lyle replied.
“Six months?!” Yernen exclaimed, horrified by the idea of being without his sister for that long. He knew Lyle, as the heir to the Duke of Baltimore and a member of a military family, would understand the situation better than most.
“Do you think she’ll come back to live with us after six months?” Yernen asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Lyle said, though he knew it wasn’t likely.

In truth, Cecile had other reasons for not returning to the capital immediately—chief among them being her health. Cecile, who had inherited her mother’s southern blood, often fell ill in the colder climate of the capital, especially during winter. Lyle suspected that even after the war settled, Cecile would only return during the warmer months.

“That’s why we should go see her now. She said today is the last day to check the wedding gifts. You should help her pick,” Lyle suggested.

“Well… if it’s that important, I guess I should help,” Yernen agreed, finishing the bread Lyle had torn for him. He slowly got out of bed and brushed the crumbs off his clothes. Though he had made a mess of the bed, Yernen didn’t care—he knew it would be perfectly clean by the time he returned.

Watching from the doorway, Dave, who had been waiting anxiously, wiped away tears of relief and called in the attendants to help dress Yernen.
In no time, Yernen transformed from a boy in rumpled pajamas into the regal youngest prince. Lyle, who had been sitting nearby, stood up and offered his hand.

“Shall we go, Your Highness?” Lyle asked.
“Yes,” Yernen replied, taking his hand. He straightened his back and lifted his chin, his earlier tantrum forgotten. The sulking child was gone, replaced by the proud young prince.

Cecile’s large dressing room was filled with cream-colored fabrics, luxurious gowns, glittering jewels, and wedding gifts.
Yernen had visited Cecile’s dressing room before, but today it was far more extravagant than usual—busier than even during the Empire’s founding festival.

“Sister…” Yernen called out, his voice trailing off. Cecile, who had been holding up a piece of jewelry, turned around in surprise.

“Yernen…!”

She quickly crossed the room, weaving through the attendants, and pulled Yernen into a tight embrace. Her elegant gown brushed the floor, causing the wardrobe mistresses to fuss nervously, but neither royal paid any attention.

“My sweet boy,” Cecile whispered, holding him close.

Yernen, who almost never cried, felt his eyes sting with the threat of tears as he hugged his sister.

“Are you feeling better now?” she asked gently.
Cecile asked gently, and though Yernen hesitated, he eventually gave a small nod.

“Do you really have to go?” Yernen asked as he clung tightly to her neck, his grip almost suffocating. Despite the strong embrace, Cecile’s expression softened significantly—she could tell that Yernen was slowly preparing himself to say goodbye.

As Cecile tried to lift Yernen, she staggered slightly, prompting Ethan, who was nearby, to pick him up instead.

“Don’t worry, Yernen. I swear on my life that Cecile will be safe,” Ethan reassured him.

“Ugh…” Yernen grumbled, lightly punching Ethan’s chest in irritation. Still, despite his frustration, Yernen didn’t tell Ethan to leave—he liked him too much for that. Had it been Harriet’s fiancée, Lizzie, Yernen wouldn’t have hesitated to demand her dismissal and even arrange a breakup.

“You two look like parents with a child,” a voice came from the doorway.

“Father! Mother!” Yernen exclaimed.

Ethan gently set Yernen down and knelt on one knee, as did Lyle and the other attendants. Meanwhile, Yernen darted over and wrapped himself around one of Roxy’s legs.

“Everyone, rise,” the emperor, Beynon, commanded.
“Are you feeling better now, Yernen?” Roxy asked.

“Yes…” Yernen muttered, still sulking.

“And did you eat your meal?” she inquired.

“I did,” Yernen replied, though his tone was a bit pouty.

“Hmm?” Roxy teased, lightly tapping Yernen’s nose with her finger as if she didn’t quite believe him.

“Lyle, did Yernen eat his breakfast?” she asked with a smile.

“I fed him myself,” Lyle confirmed.

“I told you I ate!” Yernen yelled, frustrated that his word wasn’t being trusted.

“Alright, alright. But last time you said you ate, and you hadn’t, so can you blame me for worrying?” Roxy reasoned.

Unable to argue, Yernen turned his head away, avoiding eye contact.

“You promised me, remember? No skipping meals, even if you’re upset,” Roxy reminded him gently.
“Yes, skipping meals is a bad habit,” Beynon added sternly. “If you do it again, you’ll have to sit on my lap in the office for three hours as punishment. No more skipping meals.”

Yernen’s lips puckered in a pout, but he stayed quiet.

“Now, let’s have you help Cecile choose her wedding gifts. And if anything catches your eye, let me know. Summer is approaching, and it’s about time I got my youngest some new accessories to match his clothes,” Beynon said with a grin as he scooped Yernen into his arms and headed toward the center of the room. Roxy watched them with an exasperated smile.

“He’s always so soft with Yernen,” she said with a hint of amusement.

“As are you, Your Majesty,” Ethan remarked with a laugh.

“Well, that’s true,” Roxy chuckled.

Turning to Lyle, she asked, “Will you help us choose as well?”

“With pleasure,” Lyle responded, extending his hand like a little gentleman. Amused by his charm, Roxy smiled and took his hand.

“I like this platinum cufflink set. Oh, and the sapphire pendant we looked at earlier!” Yernen said excitedly.

“Is that so?” Roxy responded.

Immediately, the head attendant of the emperor’s palace retrieved the platinum cufflinks, while another servant prepared the sapphire pendant.
Yernen had a habit of picking out every item that caught his eye, keeping the attendants busy wherever he went.

“The sapphire matches Lyle’s eye color. I want two of them—one for me and one for him.”
“Two, huh?” Beynon asked with a laugh.

“I want to share with Lyle,” Yernen explained.
“Then I’ll have another made just for you. We’ll have it delivered to the palace soon,” Beynon said with a grin.

“Great!” Yernen exclaimed, planting a kiss on Beynon’s cheek, causing the emperor’s face to light up with a wide smile.

“His grin is practically touching his ears,” Roxy whispered softly to Lyle, who chuckled at the sight.

“What will we do with him? If he hears that Yernen is to have a honeymoon at the Baltimore Duchy, he might faint on the spot,” Roxy added, her own face showing a bit of sadness as she gently stroked Lyle’s hand.

“But that’s a worry for the distant future. For now, let’s focus on the present. Lyle, after we finish selecting the gifts, we’ll be having tea with His Majesty. Will you join us?” Roxy asked.

“It would be an honor,” Lyle replied smoothly, accepting the invitation with grace.

“You’re quite the charmer,” Roxy said with a smile, playfully tapping Lyle’s nose.

As Yernen sipped his tea, loaded with sugar and milk, he suddenly asked, “Does my sister really have to go to the South?”

“Hmmm,” Beynon hummed, stroking his well-groomed beard thoughtfully. It was a heavy question for a child, but Yernen was sharp enough to understand. Beynon felt that the time was right to begin sharing some of his broader plans.

The emperor had always hoped that Yernen would succeed him, and he decided now was the moment to plant the seeds of that idea.

“Yernen, you’ve probably noticed how many new officials I’ve been appointing recently, haven’t you?” Beynon began.

“Yes,” Yernen responded.

“Are you aware that the Empire, which was once decentralized, has gradually been governed by officials chosen through examinations, starting from my great-grandfather’s time?” Beynon asked.

“Yes, I know.”

“And you understand that this has strengthened the central government’s influence?” Beynon pressed on.

Yernen, sensing that his father was about to embark on another lecture, sighed and sipped his tea, his expression growing bored.

“My plan is to establish a perfect hierarchy with the royal family, the bearers of divine blood, at the center,” Beynon said firmly.

“…?” Yernen’s curiosity was piqued, and he looked up from his tea.

“Though things have improved, there are still far-flung regions where lords take half of the peasants’ harvest as taxes or treat them like slaves,” Beynon explained.

“What?!” Yernen exclaimed, visibly upset.