The Tyrant's Happy Ending - Chapter 7.3

“You should be careful,” Eden Petra’s words echoed in his mind. Lyle raised his glass and downed the remaining wine in a single gulp.

“Hah.”

The low-proof wine barely registered, the quantity so meager it did nothing to dull his senses.

And yet, his mind was burning as if he were intoxicated.
Just then, he saw the Empress walking alongside Tenes, ignoring the gazes of the gathered nobles, as if the two of them were the only people present.

He followed them, his instincts tracing their path to its inevitable end.

The garden.

Descending the stairs swiftly, he watched as nobles hurriedly parted, clearing a path before his resolute advance.

“Where were you going? Out there is…”

A gust of wind swept through, carrying the scent even stronger than before.

“…Only the garden.”

“What?” She looked up, startled, as he lowered his face to her neck, inhaling deeply. A sweet scent wafted up, as though enticing him.

It was undeniable now—his Empress was in heat.

And Tenes Trisia… he must have known, leading her to the garden with that knowledge, as if Eden Petra’s warnings had been true.

“Is there any reason for the two of you to be alone in the garden?”

The thought was intolerable. Without hesitation, Lyle wrapped his arms around her, sending a sharp glance at Tenes before sweeping her out of the hall.

“Damn,” he muttered.

Clinging to him, the Empress buried her head against his collar, her soft, fumbling touch stirring him, testing his patience.
‘She was really going to the garden with him in this state?’
If he’d been even a moment later, anything could have happened.
The scent of a heat-driven Omega filled the hall, overtaking the reserved presence of pheromones from the surrounding Alphas. And Lyle could see the rising tension in the eyes of those Alphas, drawn toward the delicate figure in his arms.

“Damn it…!”

The frustration was unbearable. Lyle cast a menacing gaze around the room, his eyes holding an unspoken threat to gouge out anyone’s eyes who dared look too long, before storming out of the banquet hall.

The path to the Empress’s bedchamber felt like an arduous journey—a parched traveler trudging toward an oasis in the desert. Several times, he had to suppress the urge to lay her down right there on the bare floor and tear apart their clothes.
It was as if the Empress had a knack for driving him mad, performing some small, reckless gesture just when he’d barely regained his composure.

“Good…,” she murmured.

“…Ugh.” Lyle gritted his teeth. “This is… maddening.”
As he climbed the stairs two at a time, he felt slender, pale fingers clutching the hem of his coat. Lyle glanced down at her hand, his eyes darkening.

“Damn it.”

She seemed intent on testing his limits.

Though he managed to rein in his desires, Lyle finally realized the answer to the question that had been lingering in his mind.
He’d never been able to understand his feelings toward this person in his arms.

It wasn’t just about satisfying his own desires—there was a deeper urge, a need to protect her well-being above all else. He wanted to keep her close forever, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything she disliked. And, if she stubbornly refused, he’d want to yield to her wishes, no matter what they were.
He didn’t expect anything in return; he only wished for her to stay by his side.

In truth, Lyle already knew what this feeling was.

He simply hadn’t wanted to admit it. He hadn’t thought he’d ever love someone again.

“Ow…!”

“What’s wrong?”

The Empress, lying limp in his arms, shuddered. Lyle gently placed her on the bed and met her gaze. Her face was flushed red, though this was different from the feverish flush he’d seen before.

‘When she has a fever, she doesn’t look this… alluring.’

“Summon a physician or a priest. Anyone.”

“A physician?” she asked incredulously.

What a laughable thought. He’d endured the banquet’s chaos, dragging her away from the gazes of those lecherous Alphas to get her here, only to summon someone again?

“No, that’s out of the question.”

“What…?”

“I just went through all the trouble of getting you away from those Alphas. Why would I call someone else now?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?”

“Empress, are you seriously unaware?”

It seemed his Empress truly didn’t understand her current state.

‘Oh.’

Lyle had a theory: perhaps the spirit inhabiting the body of Lord Fortnum was originally a Beta.

She knew far too little about the biology of Alphas and Omegas. For the first time, things began to make sense.

‘So she hadn’t intentionally planned to spend her heat cycle with Tenes Trisia.’

Thinking it over, his earlier suspicion seemed absurd, almost like he’d been possessed by a momentary madness. Whatever Tenes might feel, his Empress was innocent—she simply hadn’t known.
An absurd situation, but the realization lifted his mood.
To feel this elation over something so trivial… He felt as if he were some lovesick, teenage fool.

“You’re in heat,” he said quietly.

“In… heat?”

“Yes, a heat cycle.”

“…!”

Her eyes widened in shock. Clearly, she hadn’t been aware.
But the relief Lyle felt quickly turned sour. A look of shock, tinged with fear, flashed across her face—the same look she’d worn on their wedding night.
Even her breathing had changed. It was shallow, quick—like the frightened breaths of a small animal trapped by a predator.
Her head dropped, and he could only see the golden-blonde crown of her hair.

‘Damn it.’
Lyle realized that, caught up in his own emotions, he had overlooked the Empress’s state. His feelings now were entirely different from what he’d felt when he first saw her like this.
Back then, he’d thought only of finding out her identity and dealing with those who had wronged her. But now… now, the idea of his former self felt laughable.

He wanted to go back and shake his past self, slap him senseless. He’d been so wrong. Beating those men was not enough. They deserved to be put through hell.

Once her heat cycle was over, he’d carefully coax her into revealing her identity and then hunt down those responsible for harming her.

‘Who am I kidding?’

Prideful and secretive as she was, she’d never willingly reveal anything. Asking would only drive her further away.

There was only one option left: he would have to uncover her identity himself.

It was the same conclusion he’d reached before, though now his motivation had entirely changed.

“Empress,” Lyle spoke softly, drawing her attention. Slowly, she looked up, her eyes filled with trepidation.

“…What?”

Her voice was rough with tension.

It had been nearly half a year since Lyle had first met this enigmatic Empress. In that time, he had learned a few things about his partner, whose real name remained unknown.
She had received an elite education and grown up with a high social standing. She valued cleanliness and had a fondness for tea, particularly black tea, much like other nobles of the central regions. Though her demeanor was often prickly, she was kind to her servants. She possessed an iron will and an unbreakable pride.

And… in moments like this, she was vulnerable.

Lyle lightly touched her lips, which were reddened from where she’d bitten them.

“…What are you doing?”

“Could you open your mouth?”

Unlike usual, her gaze was dim, as though the light had gone out of her eyes. After hesitating for a moment, she opened her mouth, resigned.

Seeing her like this stirred a sense of defiance in him—he wanted to erase that resignation.

He perched on the edge of the bed, gently held her trembling chin, and pressed his lips to hers. Her large eyes filled with surprise.

“If I may teach you a bit of etiquette in adult relationships… closing your eyes during a kiss is customary.”

He sensed her hesitation.

He didn’t want to push her too far, to say something unnecessary that might disrupt the moment. So he waited patiently.

“What happens… next?”

“Next?” he asked softly.

“What’s supposed to happen next?”

“With the kiss.”

Her voice was laced with worry, though she tried to mask it.

“Is it… always like this?”

At the end of his patience, Lyle heard a question that unmistakably bore the scars of past trauma.

The feeling that washed over him was… nothing short of abhorrent.

“It doesn’t have to be anything different.”

His rebellious body was ready to burst, straining painfully against his clothes. Yet, he was certain he didn’t want to act on his desire, not with her. All he wanted was to comfort her.

And by the time he buried his head in the nape of her neck, Lyle could easily tell by the rapid breathing of the one beneath him that his empress was still haunted by the ghosts of her past and not by him.

I guess you’re afraid of being forced into a relationship.

‘Then it’s simple.’

Lyle lifted the man below him lightly and placed him on top of me.

“what are you doing…?”

“Touch it yourself.”

“What?”

“Touch me.”

“… … .”