The Tyrant’s Beloved Doll - Chapter 25

Raytan didn’t respond immediately. He simply looked at her with an unreadable expression before standing up from his seat. “It’s late. We should head back,” he said curtly.

“Wait, but—” Setz tried to protest.

“Your maid must be worried by now,” Raytan interrupted, already walking towards the exit. “It’s almost dinner time.”

He didn’t even look back at her as he spoke, his tone final, as if dismissing the entire conversation. Setz glanced out the window and noticed the sky had already started to dim. Evening was indeed settling in.

“Wait for me! I’m coming with you, Brother!” Setz called out, quickly getting up and scurrying after him. For a moment, Raytan paused as if waiting, then resumed walking at a slower pace when she caught up to him.

“Brother, do you really know the ancient language?” Setz asked again, her curiosity refusing to die down. “I mean, truly? Can you explain how you knew?”

Raytan’s silence stretched on, his face as impassive as ever, but this time Setz wasn’t about to give up so easily.

“Please tell me, how did you know what that word meant?” Setz persisted, beginning to wonder if he was just making things up after all.

“Brother,” she said, almost pleading, drawing out the word to make her impatience known.

“Quiet,” Raytan finally said, sounding mildly irritated.

“But I’m really curious,” Setz insisted.

“Always so nosy,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head slightly.

“I know, I know,” Setz said quickly, not denying it. “So, would you mind satisfying my curiosity just this once?”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Raytan replied, but there was a slight smirk in his voice this time.

“Still…” Setz mumbled, giving him a hopeful look.

“Think whatever you like,” Raytan started to say, but he stopped abruptly, his gaze sharpening as he stared ahead.

Setz followed his line of sight, expecting to see their brother, Bern, or maybe another familiar face, but what she saw was entirely unexpected.

“Wait, is that…?” Setz murmured, puzzled. “That’s someone from the book.”

Standing before them was the current Grand Magician, one of the figures whose name and portrait Setz had seen while flipping through the pages of The Magicians of Denhelder Empire. She had never met the man in person before, as she had never attended any of the grand ceremonies at the temple or visited the place itself.

What is he doing here? Setz wondered, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Your Highnesses,” the Grand Magician said, bowing with impeccable grace. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

Raytan said nothing in response, his eyes fixed on the man with a steady, almost scrutinizing gaze. Setz, on the other hand, felt awkward and out of her depth, unsure of how to properly address someone of his stature.

“Uh, good evening,” Setz managed to stammer out, feeling a little flustered.

“Yes, indeed, a very good evening,” the Grand Magician said, his eyes briefly flicking to Raytan before settling back on Setz, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze. “I hope this evening finds both of you well.”

Setz awkwardly nodded to the Grand Magician, feeling the strange tension in the air as she tried to maintain her composure. The old man’s piercing eyes remained fixed on Raytan, even as he spoke to her. His demeanor seemed calm and polite, yet there was something unsettling about the way he was looking at Raytan, like he was examining him under a microscope.

“Yes, yes, of course,” the Grand Magician said, a slight smile curling on his lips. “Safe travels to you both. And take care, Princess Setz.”

His overly courteous tone felt insincere, and Setz couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his presence than he was letting on. Still, she managed a small, forced smile before quickly turning to follow Raytan, who had already begun walking away without looking back.

As Setz hurried to catch up to Raytan, the chilly evening air seemed to bite at her skin. She couldn’t help but feel relieved to be moving away from the Grand Magician’s intense gaze. Once she was beside Raytan again, she glanced at him nervously.

“Brother,” she began hesitantly, trying to gauge his mood, “do you know that man? The Grand Magician?”

Raytan’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes were sharper than usual. “He’s not to be trusted,” he said bluntly, his voice as cold as the evening air.

Setz swallowed hard. She had never seen Raytan react to anyone quite like this before. Normally, he kept his emotions well hidden, even in the face of people who clearly disliked him. But there was something different about the way he had looked at the Grand Magician, a wariness that Setz didn’t fully understand.

“Why do you say that?” she asked, unable to suppress her curiosity. “He seemed polite enough, didn’t he?”

Raytan let out a short, humorless laugh. “Polite? That man is full of hidden motives,” he said. “He didn’t just happen to pass by here. He was watching us.”

“Watching us?” Setz echoed, her eyes widening in surprise. “But why would he—?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Raytan interrupted, his tone growing even icier. “There’s no reason for someone like him to be interested in me, unless he’s looking for something.”

Setz fell silent, processing Raytan’s words. If the Grand Magician was indeed keeping an eye on them, it only made her feel more uneasy about the situation. She recalled how the old man’s gaze had felt so penetrating, like he could see through their very souls.

“Do you think it has to do with the ancient language?” she ventured, remembering how effortlessly Raytan had read the name “Sharhwina.”

Raytan’s eyes flickered, but he didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he glanced up at the darkening sky, as if searching for something hidden in its depths.

“Possibly,” he finally said, his voice softer but no less serious. “Or it could be related to something far more dangerous.”

Setz’s heart skipped a beat at his words, and she felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold air. She wanted to ask more, to understand what Raytan meant by “something far more dangerous,” but the look on his face told her that now was not the time.

“Come on,” Raytan said, this time his tone a bit gentler. “Let’s get you back to your room before you really do catch a cold.”

Setz nodded, clutching her bag a little tighter as she walked beside him. She knew she still had a lot of questions—about the Grand Magician, the name “Sharhwina,” and Raytan’s mysterious knowledge of the ancient language—but for now, all she could do was follow her brother’s lead and hope that the answers would come in time.

The Grand Magician stood there, his eyes still fixed on Raytan’s retreating figure, deep in thought and frustration. He had come here hoping to uncover a clue, a sign, anything that would explain the strange events surrounding the young prince. But to his dismay, there was nothing—Raytan appeared to be exactly as he had always been.

“He’s just the same as before… no different at all,” he muttered to himself, his brow furrowed with confusion.

Despite his years of experience and knowledge, the Grand Magician couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that he was missing something critical. He had believed that if Raytan truly possessed the ability to control fire, it would be unmistakable. Even with his own limited magical capabilities compared to the great mages of legend, he was confident that he would sense such a powerful force.

And yet, there was nothing. No trace of the kind of high-level magic that manipulating fire would require.

“I should have been able to sense it,” he murmured, his weathered face twisting with frustration. “If he truly wielded fire, that kind of power… there’s no way I could overlook it.”

The Grand Magician had never encountered a true fire-wielder in his lifetime, a type of magic so rare and advanced that it was almost mythological in its difficulty and danger. The very idea that someone as young as Raytan might possess it seemed impossible. Yet the rumors persisted—claims that Raytan had somehow set fire to Lillien’s hair, that the source of that magic was unnatural and frightening.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was happening here, something beyond his understanding. If Raytan had nothing to do with the fire, then who—or what—was responsible? Was it even possible that the boy was suppressing his own powers, hiding them so thoroughly that even a trained magician could not detect them?

“Just what in the world is going on here…?” he whispered, his voice filled with a sense of dread.

The more he thought about it, the more the pieces didn’t fit. The puzzle of Raytan was growing more complicated by the day, and the Grand Magician couldn’t help but feel like he was staring at the edge of something much larger, something ancient and dark that he wasn’t prepared to face.

As he watched Raytan disappear into the distance, the Grand Magician’s face grew even more troubled. The sight of the boy’s black hair and crimson eyes haunted his mind, a constant reminder of a legend long thought dead and buried.

“I must find out the truth,” he said to himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “Before it’s too late.”

With one last, lingering look at the path Raytan had taken, the Grand Magician turned away, his steps slow and heavy. He knew that if he failed to understand what was happening now, the consequences could be dire—not just for the palace, but for the entire empire of Denhelder.

***

It was a faint dawn.

“……”

Lize’s eyes, which had been closed, slowly opened. Her emerald-green eyes, staring at the ceiling adorned with a grand chandelier, were utterly empty.

It was always like this. She would drift into a light sleep, only to wake up again at dawn. Occasionally, she managed to sleep deeply, but whenever she did, she was plagued by terrible nightmares.

The potent drug was gradually but surely destroying Lize’s body and mind. There were moments when her mind would clear, but those moments grew fewer and farther between.

Sometimes, she couldn’t even distinguish anymore—whether this was a dream or reality… So, whether she slept, it wasn’t truly rest, and when she was awake, she wasn’t really awake.

But it was inevitable.

After all, this was something Lize had chosen for herself.

Lize struggled to sit up. A chill seemed to seep through her body, and her long, silver hair kept tickling her face. She slowly turned her head to look out the window. There, she saw the open window with the curtains fluttering in the night breeze.

And… beyond the fluttering curtains, she caught a glimpse of someone’s silhouette sitting by the window.

“Oh my….”

Lize slowly parted her lips.

“What on earth is this about?”

In the silent room, Lize’s soft voice echoed gently… and soon, emerald eyes met with eyes as red as blood.

“……”

The gaze of Eaton, who was looking at Lize, trembled slightly.

He thought he was mistaken. But he wasn’t. Eaton realized it then—the reason why that man, Raytan, resembled that woman so much…

The order had been reversed. The one who truly resembled that woman was Lize before him. Her silver hair, shining luminously under the moonlight, and the air of melancholy that surrounded her.

But her eye color was different.

And despite the presence of a stranger, she didn’t blink an eye; that bold composure was different too.

“Everyone speaks with one voice, saying that the mistress of this palace is extraordinarily beautiful and has impeccable manners. And yet…”

It was Eaton who broke the silence.

“In reality, it seems different. Given that an outsider has come here, and you don’t even bat an eye.”

Lize laughed softly.

“…But I’ve seen much worse things, you know.”

Eaton’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“A woman engulfed in flames, burning yet not dying. A man with his head smashed in. Monsters so grotesque that I could neither imagine nor have ever seen before. Many such things often visit me in my dreams.”

“……”

“At least, today, you don’t look like any of those horrid sights, so I suppose I have no reason to be startled.”

Lize’s emerald eyes wavered slightly. She wore an expression as if she were dreaming. Perhaps she truly believed she was. Eaton gazed steadily at Lize for a while before slowly stepping away from the window ledge. He reached out toward the table beside the bed.

What Eaton picked up was an empty medicine bottle.

“This… is poison.”

Instead of answering, Lize blinked her eyes.

“A poison that destroys the mind and ruins the body.”

“But its effects are remarkably potent,” Lize replied.

“Better to die early than to carry an unnecessary child?” Eaton sneered.

“Emperors are always like that. They never care about a woman’s feelings. As long as they are satisfied, that’s all that matters.”

Despite all the time that had passed, nothing had really changed. Was it that such people were always destined to hold that position, or did the throne itself change them? Disgust flickered across Eaton’s face.

“And the women those emperors choose are always… the same,” he continued.

“……”

“No matter what their initial emotions were, no matter the circumstances, they inevitably change. They get more to hold in their hands, the food they taste becomes different, the places they lay down to rest are no longer the same, and the power they wield changes. What makes you any different? How long do you think you can keep pretending to be different?”

“You talk as if you’ve been hurt by those kinds of women before,” Lize said, her tone dripping with irony.