The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 2.4

“Are they insane? How can they do that? The land belongs to the royal family, the descendants of the gods. The nobles only manage the land by the royal family’s grace. How dare they impose taxes or exploit the people?”

“Haha, that’s right,” Beynon chuckled. He could tell Yernen was about to start reciting royal law, as he often did.

“Poor peasants fear the wolves near them more than the distant sun. That’s why I plan to tame the wolves and reassert the sun’s authority,” Beynon said.

Yernen now understood. Beynon wanted to train more officials, strengthen the administration, weaken the nobility, and solidify the power of the crown. It was his vision as emperor—a vision he hoped Yernen would continue.

“This is why Cecile’s marriage to Ethan, and your engagement to Lyle, are politically significant,” Beynon added.

The nobles, of course, wouldn’t willingly give up their power to strengthen the monarchy. No emperor before had succeeded in this. But Beynon had an advantage—he had four children, allowing him to form strategic marriage alliances with the most powerful families.

With the divine blood of the royal family came a unique power, and the nobility revered that bloodline. Marrying into the royal family was considered the highest honor, and no noble could refuse Beynon’s offer to secure their place by aligning with the crown. Marrying royal blood into their line promised prestige and power.
“So that’s why my sister has to go to the South?” Yernen asked.

“Yes, Cecile’s descendants will continue the Portnum legacy in the South,” Beynon explained.
Yernen was pleased with what he heard. This, he thought, was the mindset of a true ruler. For the first time, his often gentle father appeared impressive.

“Well, if this is your decision, how could I, a mere child, stand in the way?” Yernen said, respectful for once.

“Yernen…” Beynon’s voice trembled with emotion.
‘He called me “Your Majesty,”’ Beynon thought, moved. It was the first time Yernen had addressed him that way. The great emperor felt a deep sense of pride, as if he had finally earned his son’s respect.

“Well spoken,” Beynon said, beaming.
“Yernen, will you carry on my vision?” Beynon asked, barely containing his joy.

“Of course!” Yernen replied enthusiastically.
Overcome with emotion, Beynon clenched his fist in a small, triumphant gesture that Yernen didn’t see. Roxy and Lyle, who had been quietly observing, exchanged glances, amused by Beynon’s efforts to pass the throne to Yernen.

“I thought I might stay in the capital after the wedding, but now I see I was wrong. If this is your vision, Your Majesty, I will follow it and govern the North with Lyle by my side,” Yernen declared proudly.

“…?”

But his statement left everyone surprised.
“Wait… that’s not what I meant…” Beynon stammered.

Beynon let out a sigh of defeat.

“What is it?” Yernen asked in a sharp, irritated tone.

“Never mind,” Beynon replied, resigned. ‘There’s still plenty of time,’ he thought to himself.
Once again, Beynon had been outwitted by his youngest son. Watching the exchange, Roxy smiled warmly and began serving slices of lemon pound cake to everyone.

Lyle took a bite of his slice. The first taste was sharply sour, almost making his mouth water, but as he chewed, the sweetness that followed was so rich it nearly numbed his tongue.
It reminded him of Yernen.

Roxy smiled gently at him, while Yernen continued his playful argument with the emperor. This scene, more familiar now than the sights of his own family’s estate, felt comforting. It was a peaceful moment he cherished deeply.

“Yernen, are you not going outside today either?” Lyle asked.

“I don’t want to,” Yernen replied, his voice heavy with sadness as he stared out the window.
Lyle sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through Yernen’s soft, ash-blond hair.

“Winter will be here soon, and it’ll be harder to practice swordplay outdoors.”

But there was no response.

Unfortunately, Yernen was still just a child. Even though he understood things intellectually, there were limits to how much he could emotionally accept.

Yernen had bid his sister Cecile a heartfelt farewell in August, when she married Ethan in a beautiful ceremony. Though he tried to carry on as usual, the absence of his sister during their regular tea times left a larger void than he had anticipated.

Even the emperor, the empress, and his second brother Illian, who was rarely around, had been doing their best to lift Yernen’s spirits. But comforting a sulking child, especially one as heartbroken as Yernen, was far more challenging than dealing with his usual tantrums.

For two months, Yernen had become so withdrawn that he stopped eating regularly, casting a gloom over the palace.

“Tenes has been waiting outside for a week in the cold. Are you really going to leave him out there forever?” Lyle asked.

“…I just don’t feel like going anywhere,” Yernen muttered, his voice laced with melancholy.
As Yernen’s mood darkened, Lyle found himself busier than ever, doing everything he could to cheer up his fiancé.

Lyle, who was known for his composed and refined demeanor, had tried countless ways to brighten Yernen’s spirits, but nothing worked. After two months of failure, even Lyle, usually calm and collected, was showing signs of frustration.
The palace servants, who had been subjected to Lyle’s icy glares, tiptoed around nervously, fearing they might make a mistake and worsen the situation.

Having exhausted all his ideas, Lyle threw his hands up in defeat.

“If you miss her so much, why not go visit her?” Lyle suggested.

“Visit her?” Yernen finally turned to face Lyle, showing a flicker of interest for the first time in weeks.

Seeing the look on Yernen’s face, Lyle quickly pushed his frustrations aside. Even though he had been stressed and exhausted, the sight of his lovely, albeit frail, fiancé gave him a renewed sense of purpose.

“Yes. Ethan told my father that most of the fighting has settled down. It takes about a month to travel to the South, so by the time we arrive, it should be safe.”

“Really?” Yernen asked, slowly sitting up. His frame had noticeably thinned over the past two months.

‘First, I need to make sure he eats,’ Lyle thought, slipping back into his role as both a fiancé and caretaker.

“I’ll speak to His Majesty about it. Since it’s winter, we can tell him we’re going to spend some time in the warm South,” Lyle suggested.

“Really?!” Yernen’s face lit up with excitement.
“Of course,” Lyle replied, though he knew the chances were slim. The emperor, who doted on Yernen like a precious jewel, wouldn’t easily allow his youngest to make such a long journey.
“But first, let’s go eat. You barely touched your dinner last night,” Lyle added.

That was a concern for later. For now, the priority was getting Yernen back to his usual self.

“Okay! Dave! Dave!” Yernen shouted excitedly as he jumped out of bed.

Lyle watched with a warm expression as Yernen ran off. That tender look was reserved for Yernen alone. The palace servants, upon seeing Lyle’s softened gaze, finally breathed a sigh of relief.

“Be safe and come back soon, alright?” Roxy said gently.

“Do you think I’m a child?” Yernen asked with a pout.

“At seven years old, yes, you’re still a child,” Roxy replied teasingly, tapping Yernen’s nose.

“Try to return before the New Year’s banquet.
I’ll miss you very much,” she added.

“Yes, Mother!” Yernen replied cheerfully, striding confidently toward the carriage. Lyle watched him go with a fond smile but was stopped by Roxy before he could follow.

“Lyle.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I know you’re still just a child yourself, but I’m so grateful that you always take care of Yernen. Please look after him again this time. He’s barely been outside the palace, and he’s never spent the night away from here,” Roxy said, her voice full of concern.

“And his picky eating habits… Even though we’re sending the royal chefs along, I’m not sure they’ll be able to get all the ingredients he likes…” she added, clearly worried.

It was an almost ridiculous concern, considering that three full carts of food supplies were being sent along, including enough tea to last Yernen three years.

“I’ll take good care of him. Please don’t worry,” Lyle assured her.

“I trust you, Lyle,” Roxy said, smiling warmly.
Lyle gave her a respectful bow.

“Thank you for being such a good fiancé to our Yernen.”

Lyle, who was usually as proud and independent as Yernen, found few people he respected or admired. But Roxy was one of them. Not only because she was the mother of his beloved fiancé, but because he genuinely liked her as a person.

Even when she patted his head, Lyle, who would normally scowl at anyone else, responded with a gentle smile, pleased by the affection.
“Take care,” Lyle said, bowing again before heading toward the carriage. As he approached, a commotion caught his attention.

“I’m sorry, Yernen, really!”

“Forget it!”

Harriet, sweating and clearly flustered, was apologizing profusely to the small figure of Yernen, who was barely visible among the carriages.

“What’s going on here?” Lyle asked, curious.
Lyle, curious about the situation, grabbed a nearby attendant and asked what was going on.
“The Crown Prince came to see off Prince Yernen, but the prince is upset, saying the Crown Prince hasn’t visited him in a long time and that he doesn’t even consider him a brother anymore.”
“Ah, I see,” Lyle replied, nodding slowly, understanding the situation.

It was true that recently Harriet hadn’t visited Yernen, almost as if he was avoiding him. It had been that way since the start of the year.

Although Harriet was now seventeen and busy with his duties, even the emperor, who was the busiest man in the empire, managed to visit Yernen every couple of days. Lyle found it odd, and he could only imagine how much this would have upset Yernen, who was particularly sensitive to such slights.

“Even though your brother brought you flowers as a peace offering?” Lyle asked, curious.
“…Flowers?” Yernen asked.

“Yes, this flower,” Harriet said as he handed Yernen a bouquet of flowers Lyle had never seen before.

‘What is that…?’ Lyle thought, feeling a vague sense of familiarity with the flower, though he couldn’t place it.
“Why the flowers?” Yernen asked, though he took them anyway, looking pleased. He sniffed them once, commenting that they didn’t smell particularly nice, but accepted them all the same.

“I found them while visiting the East on an inspection. They made me think of you, so I brought them,” Harriet said with a bright smile.
The silver-budded flowers, small yet elegant, were as beautiful as Yernen himself, which made Harriet’s gesture fitting.

“So, do you forgive me now?” Harriet asked.

“Well… I suppose I’ll forgive you this time,” Yernen said, his tone much softer than before.

“Thank you,” Harriet replied. After exchanging a few more words with Yernen, Harriet took his leave, bowing to him before he walked away.
“…?” Lyle stared, feeling something strange in the atmosphere.

“Oh, Lyle,” Harriet said, noticing him.
“It’s been a while, Your Highness,” Lyle greeted the Crown Prince politely.

“Yes, you’re going to visit Cecile with Yernen, right?” Harriet asked.

“Yes.”

“Safe travels.”

“Thank you,” Lyle responded as Harriet left completely.

‘Did I imagine it?’ Lyle wondered. For a brief moment, he thought Harriet’s expression seemed… off.

“Lyle Baltimore, are you just going to stand there daydreaming?” Yernen’s voice snapped him back to reality.