The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 3.2

Yes, it was foolish pride, he knew that. But at that moment, it was the only thing keeping him together.

He didn’t want to see Lyle again. He didn’t want to hear him declare the engagement over. And he certainly didn’t want to see Lyle get engaged to someone else, treating them the way he had treated Yernen.

Someday, they’d have to face each other again, but not now. Not like this.

Yernen watched as Ainz led Lyle away. Lyle looked as though he were on the verge of breaking, screaming in frustration as he tried to rush back to Yernen. But Yernen, his hands growing cold with dread, simply closed the book he had been pretending to read and walked back inside the palace, feigning composure.

As soon as he reached his room, he collapsed.

‘I wish all of this was just a lie.’

It would have been better if he had died back then, during that accident on the way to see Cecil in the south. At least then, he wouldn’t have to endure all of this. Back when everything was perfect—when the emperor and empress were still alive.

Back then, Yernen had been the treasured youngest prince, adored by everyone in the palace. Even when he acted like a little tyrant, everyone loved him.

But after their deaths, everything fell apart. Harriet, hearing the rumors swirling about Yernen, assigned Ainz as his personal guard. Yet, even Ainz couldn’t silence all the whispers.

Now, even the palace servants cast suspicious glances at Yernen, whispering behind his back. No matter how much he pretended it didn’t bother him, deep down, it hurt. The weight of all those stares was too much for a child to bear.

Yernen crawled into bed, wishing it was all a bad dream. He prayed for sleep to take him away from it all.

“Yernen.”

“Brother…?”

Yernen rubbed his eyes and looked toward the voice. In the darkness of the night, he could barely make out Harriet’s face.

“Lyle came to see you.”

“…”

“You didn’t meet with him.”

Yernen turned away, not wanting to talk about it.
“What do you want to do?”

Harriet’s voice was gentle, waiting patiently for Yernen to speak.

But Yernen stayed silent, hoping his brother would leave. Yet Harriet remained by the bedside, watching over him quietly, so Yernen finally said something he didn’t mean.

“I don’t want to see him. Tell him to go back north.”

In truth, he missed him terribly.

“Alright. If that’s what my precious little brother wants, then I’ll make it happen.”

After coughing several times due to the smoke, Yernen wiped his face with a practiced ease and made his way to the kitchen to inspect the basket of supplies.

“Sigh…”

A deep sigh escaped his lips. Not that sighing would make more food appear, but it was a reflex at this point.

All that was left in the basket was a single shriveled carrot. This meant that after today, he would have to survive on nothing, hoping for the next batch of supplies to arrive, which could be days away.

“I shouldn’t have eaten so much at the start.”
Yernen bit his beautifully colored lips as he took out the last carrot, washed it, and put it in the pot.

“I should probably check the forest again or… maybe try fishing.”

Neither option was promising. He had explored the forest yesterday and tried fishing the day before, both times returning empty-handed.
As the pot bubbled and boiled, Yernen held his rumbling stomach. For the past few days, he had subsisted on boiled carrots and carrot-flavored water. He still despised carrots, but his circumstances left no room for being picky.

‘Of course, I always save it for last because I hate it…’

But when it came down to it, even a shriveled carrot became precious.

Impatiently, Yernen stared into the pot with longing eyes, waiting for the carrot to cook. He knew how pitiful he looked, but what could he do? No one was around to see him, and manners certainly didn’t fill an empty stomach.

The quiet of the cabin was broken only by the crackling of the fire, the bubbling of the water, and Yernen’s soft murmurs to himself.

“I wish I had some bread.”

A loaf of hard black bread sounded heavenly right now. Even soaked in water, it would at least feel like a real meal.

Though Harriet had no intention of letting Yernen starve to death, the supplies were irregular, arriving roughly once a month. They consisted of a single set of clothes, bedding, some dried black bread, potatoes, carrots, salt, and a few spices. Just enough to survive, but only if rationed carefully.

During spring, summer, and autumn, Yernen could supplement his meager meals with berries from the forest or fish from the lake. But winter was different. Winter was brutal. This was Yernen’s sixth winter on the island, and each one had brought him to the brink of starvation.

This winter, in particular, had been especially harsh. Last month’s supply delivery had been delayed by a full week. Yernen had already eaten every last scrap of food and endured four days without any before the supplies finally arrived. The moment they did, he devoured everything in sight—bread, potatoes, carrots—without rationing properly. As a result, here he was, two days shy of the next delivery, and already out of food.
“I hope they’re not late again this time…” Yernen muttered nervously, biting his nails. If the supplies were delayed like before, he’d be forced to go almost ten days without food.

Ten days. He’d barely survived four. He knew he couldn’t make it that long.

“I have to go to the forest.”

With a grim face, Yernen took the pot off the fire. The carrot floating inside looked a little bigger now, thanks to the water soaking into it.
“Ugh.”

No matter how hungry he was, he still hated carrots.

“This tasteless thing…”

Yernen almost cursed but restrained himself, his body trembling with frustration.

‘Calm down. Calm down.’

Even if he tipped the pot over in a fit of rage, all that awaited him was the harsh reality of starvation.

“Today, I have to find something, no matter what…”

With a renewed sense of determination, Yernen began to eat the carrot slowly, savoring every bite despite his dislike for it. As small as it was, it disappeared quickly. After finishing the carrot, he drank the watery broth, hoping to fool his stomach into thinking it was fuller than it was.

“Of course, you feel full. You just drank all that water,” he muttered sarcastically.

Grumbling under his breath, Yernen took out all the clothes he had, layering them to keep warm. He slipped on an oversized, worn-out pair of shoes and slung his basket over his shoulder. His ragged appearance was pitiful, yet somehow, because it was Yernen, there was a certain dignity to it, as if his tattered clothing held a story.

Just as he was about to leave the cabin, Yernen paused by the door and instinctively reached for the locket around his neck. Inside was a small portrait of someone who had once been his betrothed.

The locket was the only thing Yernen had managed to keep when he was dragged from the royal palace that fateful night.

“Maybe I’ll draw again today,” he mumbled to himself.

Since being confined to the island, Yernen had been busy with tasks he’d never had to perform before. He had to light the fire himself, cook his own meals, fetch water for bathing, clean the perpetually dusty cabin, and wash his clothes. On top of that, he often searched for food in the forest.

But once all the chores were done and before the day darkened completely, Yernen would have some free time. During those moments, he would pull out an old parchment book and a piece of charcoal he had found in the cabin and draw.

It was an outdated method, using parchment and charcoal, but they had been left behind in the old cabin, likely by a royal long forgotten.

At first, Yernen used them frequently, but as the charcoal ran low, he started saving it for special occasions. Today, though, he felt the urge to draw Lyle’s face again.

“Imagining what he looks like now… It’s fun.”
Yernen’s mental image of Lyle was still that of a youthful boy, but he knew that wasn’t the case anymore. Just as Yernen had grown into an adult, Lyle surely had too. When he missed Lyle, Yernen would sketch what he imagined him to look like now.

Lost in thought, Yernen closed the locket and tucked it back under his clothes.

“I wonder how he’s doing.”

In the Helio Empire, it was customary, especially among the nobility, to be betrothed at a young age and married as soon as the younger party reached adulthood. Yernen, now an adult, figured Lyle must be too—and most likely, he had already married.

“I shouldn’t have acted that way back then.”
If he had known that would be their last meeting, he wouldn’t have run away. Looking back now, it would have been better to swallow his pride, admit he hadn’t manifested, and say a proper goodbye.

“…But it’s too late now.”

Yernen stepped out into the biting wind, heading toward the forest. As he walked, he silently called out Lyle’s name in his heart.

‘Lyle… are you doing well? I feel like everyone has forgotten about me… but do you still remember me?’

As Yernen tugged in shock, a couple of buttons, barely holding on to the frayed thread, popped off.

“What are you doing!” he shouted, shoving Lizi away in a panic. She stumbled back as if dazed but kept that unsettling smile on her face.

Yernen immediately recognized it. It was the same smile she would wear whenever she got too close, pretending her touches were harmless affection.
Cecil had once reassured him that Lizi acted that way because she adored him, but Yernen always felt a strange unease whenever he saw that smile. It made his skin crawl.

“Your Highness,” Lizi said softly.

“…What?” Yernen gripped his collar and blanket as tightly as if he were an omega fearing an alpha’s assault, trying to pull away and press himself against the wall.

“Do you know?” Lizi continued, ignoring his visible discomfort. She signaled to the knights, and before Yernen could react, they grabbed him roughly by the arms.

Thud.

His heart pounded violently, an animal sensing impending doom.

“Let go of me! What are you doing?”

The knights ignored his cries, forcing him to his knees, binding his legs and arms without a word.
As Lizi approached, she began pulling his clothes away, exposing his pale, delicate skin.

“I had such a hard time convincing His Majesty.”

“What?!” Yernen’s face twisted with disbelief and fury. The mention of Harriet’s name stung him to his core.

“Are you telling me… that Harriet allowed this madness?!”

“Of course,” Lizi replied, her hand slipping toward Yernen’s waistband.

“…!” Yernen thrashed, struggling violently, but the knights tightened their hold.

“Even after starving you for four days, you’re still so lively,” Lizi remarked with a wicked grin.

“What?!”

Yernen stared at her in shock. This month’s food delivery had indeed been delayed, but only by two days.

“How do you know about that?”

In reality, Yernen had barely survived on water alone for four days. His confusion deepened as Lizi smirked.

“Because that palace over there,” she said, pointing toward a small building, “is mine.”
“…What?”

It made no sense. The queen’s palace was far from here, and the northern part of the royal city, near the lake, was isolated and desolate. Yet Lizi claimed the small palace by the lake was hers.

Chills ran down Yernen’s spine.

“I told His Majesty I wanted that palace so I could always keep an eye on you,” Lizi continued with a sickening sweetness.

“What…?”

“Hold him tight, he’s still putting up a fight,” Lizi ordered.

“Let go of me! Ugh…!” Yernen tried to protest, but the last knight joined in, pinning him down even harder.

In the end, Yernen was stripped naked and bound, while Lizi looked at him with satisfaction, running her hand over his exposed skin.
“Don’t touch me!” he screamed, the only resistance he could muster. The humiliation of being the only one stripped and vulnerable in a room full of people clothed in fine garments filled him with despair. Tears welled in his eyes as he glared at Lizi.

“Oh, Your Highness, the way you look at me like that… it sends shivers down my spine,” Lizi said, her voice laced with deranged amusement.

Yernen had always known Lizi was unhinged, but now her madness was on full display.

“You crazy…! Don’t touch me!” he shouted, writhing in disgust as her touch lingered on him.
Lizi breathed heavily as she spoke again.

“To think that the proud, untouchable prince would one day be brought this low, looking at me with those tear-filled eyes. I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long. You couldn’t possibly understand.”

Yernen’s fierce gaze only fueled her as she continued to speak. She called out to Ainz, the knight who had once been assigned to protect Yernen.

“Ainz,” Lizi said, her hand wandering over Yernen’s trembling form.

Seeing Ainz reach for something at his waist, Yernen flinched instinctively.

“What… what is that?” he stammered.

“Ah,” Lizi said, revealing a vial, shaking it before Yernen’s eyes.