The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 6.3

Yernen watched him disappear, shaking his head in disbelief. Did Noah even know where Russell was?

The boy probably doesn’t know the first thing about staying by his master’s side.

In any case, Noah’s absence was a relief, and Yernen decided it was better for his sanity to let the matter rest.

Though the ceremony honoring the late emperor had concluded, Yernen still couldn’t return to the palace, as an urgent issue had arisen in the eastern provinces. Lyle and several others were now in a long discussion about it.

Meanwhile, nobles eager to court Yernen’s favor swarmed around him, but he had no energy to entertain them. This frail body of his—thin, without much muscle or stamina—grew tired easily. Even with the sun still high, Yernen was already exhausted.

As a result, a secluded area of the cathedral’s greenhouse had been prepared for him to rest while Lyle attended to matters. Yernen wrapped himself in a soft blanket and looked down at his hands.

Hands free of scars or calluses, smooth and delicate. On the surface, this body seemed ideal—far better than the body he had in his past life—but he knew it was weak.

What a fragile body.

In his previous life, he hadn’t been in great health toward the end, but this body was shockingly delicate. If he ever had to fend for himself again, he would need to rebuild his strength, but with this frail body, he doubted it was possible.

Then again, I might die again before that even matters.

After all, inhabiting this body was a twist of fate. He could die tomorrow or even right after giving birth.

The thought was unsettling, but there was another persistent figure adding to his irritation.

Lyle Beltimore—the unpredictable nuisance.

What am I going to do about him?

Yernen had already decided that any further entanglement with Lyle was dangerous. However, Lyle showed no signs of returning to his quarters. No matter how often Yernen wished him away, he stubbornly stayed, sharing Yernen’s quarters and insisting on sleeping beside him each night.

What was even stranger was that Lyle, who had initially acted casual, was now questioning him whenever Yernen met with Tennes, growing increasingly suspicious. Whenever Yernen prepared to step away, Lyle would confront him with subtle accusations, as if he were determined to uncover a hidden plan.

Lately, Lyle had taken it upon himself to limit Yernen’s outings, citing his “delicate health” as an excuse. Left with few options, Yernen arranged to slip out and meet his loyal knights at the upcoming Harvest Festival, hoping to avoid Lyle’s obsessive scrutiny.

It was infuriating. Am I really going out of my way just to avoid him?

A surge of frustration washed over him. Who does Lyle Beltimore think he is, making me tiptoe around?

With a scowl, Yernen resolved that he would find a way to send Lyle packing the moment they returned to the palace.
A gust of night air swept in from beyond the open doorway, tickling Yernen’s hair and carrying with it a faint, sweet fragrance.

What’s that scent?

It was unfamiliar, yet enticing. Following the source, Yernen caught a whiff of Lyle’s distinctive, earthy scent, just as a firm arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close.

Yernen’s vision blurred, and a feverish warmth spread across his face. It must be the beginning of a cold, he thought. He hadn’t been feeling well since morning.

“Where were you going?” Lyle’s gaze shifted briefly toward the garden, his voice low and possessive. “The only thing out there is… the garden.”

“What’s it to you?” Yernen snapped, looking up in irritation, his expression quickly shifting to surprise.

Lyle’s face was close, his nose pressed against the side of Yernen’s neck, as if absorbing his scent. Yet, what startled Yernen even more was the hint of frustration lurking behind Lyle’s twisted smile.

“What’s going on? Is there some reason to go into the garden alone?”

Suddenly, Yernen felt his body grow heavy, his head hazy. He’d only had one sip of wine earlier, but it felt like more.

One sip was enough?

The warmth he’d attributed to a cold must have been something else entirely. Yernen glanced at Tennes’s shocked expression, but soon found himself lifted into Lyle’s arms, his surroundings shifting as Lyle carried him.

“Ha…”

As Lyle moved, Yernen instinctively clung to his robe, pressing his face against Lyle’s chest. It was strange; he had often caught Lyle’s scent, especially since Lyle frequently released his pheromones in their shared quarters, but today it felt overwhelmingly pleasant.

Yernen shifted closer, pressing himself into the warmth of Lyle’s arms.

“…It’s nice…”

In his haze, he murmured something he would never have uttered in his right mind.

“Damn,” Lyle muttered under his breath, quickening his pace.
Each step Lyle took made Yernen cling more desperately to him, trying to keep himself steady despite the hazy warmth coursing through his body.

Eventually, Yernen blinked awake, his mind momentarily clearing before a strange sensation from below made him freeze.
What… was that?

There was no mistaking it. A slick warmth had started to pool in a place he’d rather not mention.

“Uh…” Yernen stiffened, the sudden clarity cutting through his fog.

“What’s wrong?” Lyle’s voice came softly, as he laid Yernen down onto the bed.

“N-nothing,” Yernen stammered, trying to find a way out of this situation.

“…Bring a healer or cleric. Just… someone.”

“A healer?” Lyle asked, his tone laced with doubt.

“Yes, a healer!” Yernen snapped, trying to keep his voice steady. “Why so many questions?”

He hoped Lyle would go, allowing him a moment to escape to the washroom and handle this himself. However, Lyle’s response shattered that hope.

“No.”

“What…?”

“Why would I let someone else in now that we’ve finally rid ourselves of those other alphas?”

“What are you even talking about?” Yernen demanded, thrown by Lyle’s strange tone.

“Do you really not know, Empress?” Lyle murmured, his patience visibly fraying.

“You’re in heat,” he said softly, enunciating each word with a surprising gentleness that made the truth impossible to ignore.
Heat…?

Yernen’s eyes widened, and the realization hit him. He had been aware of his omega status but had always suppressed it, convinced it wouldn’t affect him.

He’d forgotten, having lived as a beta for 25 years. He had dismissed the faint, sweet scent he now emitted as a temporary quirk, refusing to acknowledge it. But now, in this moment, he could deny it no longer.

He was in heat—and he knew exactly what his body would need to find relief.

‘calm down.’

But Yernen knew best that no matter how much he told himself to calm down, it wouldn’t work.

Because it was like that in the past too.

‘Damn.’

He bit his lips tightly.

Yernen didn’t know how other people related, but he had a vague sense that not everyone had relationships as painful as Yernen had. So his relationship with Lyle… wouldn’t be as painful as before.

But no matter how much he thought about it, the trembling did not subside. For Yernen, it was already a lesson that being in a relationship meant enduring terrible pain.

I couldn’t even imagine that I would get into a relationship so suddenly without any mental preparation, so I couldn’t calm down.

But even then, my body was slowly starting to lose control. No matter how hard I tried to control it, the pheromone gland wouldn’t listen to me as if it were broken, and the pheromones that had been flowing out faintly like a leaky dam before I entered the room were now so thick that they filled the entire room.

Her senses became so sensitive that she lost her sense of reason. However, the realization that she was horny was poison to Yernen.

Once I realized that, the approaching sensation no longer felt ticklish.

The heat that tingled somewhere inside my body, the feeling of the sheets brushing against me, Lyle’s gaze. They all came at me violently.

My body will be forced open again, and a terrible night will begin.

But it was something that had to be endured. It was the path I had chosen, and it was the way it had to be done. However, contrary to my thoughts, my head began to become dizzy with the increasing fear.

“empress.”

Then, Lyle spoke up.

“…!”

Yernen looked up, startled by the sudden address. Lyle was looking down at him.

“…why.”

Yerunen barely managed to clear his scratchy throat and let out a blunt voice.

Lyle’s hand lightly tapped Yernen’s lips.

“…what?”

“Will you open your mouth?”

“… … .”

I wasn’t naive enough to not know what it meant to ask someone to open their mouth. However, I couldn’t figure out why I had to open my mouth. I wondered if it was necessary to do something so violent to establish a relationship. However, isn’t establishing a relationship something that you can’t refuse no matter what the other person does?

Yernen hesitated and then reluctantly opened his mouth. Then Lyle sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully held Yernen’s trembling chin, and kissed him.

It was a very polite and gentle kiss, just like the one Lyle had put his hand on Yernen’s lips a moment ago. It was… completely different from what he had expected.