The Tyrant’s Beloved Doll - Chapter 34

She probably just said it because she felt sorry for me since I can’t even attend the debutante, Setz thought, half-believing and half-doubting her own conclusion.

But the most unbelievable part was that Raytan, of all people, had agreed to be her escort. He had always shown disdain for such events. Four years ago, during the Founding Festival, he had dismissed it as “foolish things done by foolish people.” To Raytan, an extravagant ritual like the debutante ball was likely no different. Setz knew better than anyone how much he detested those kinds of gatherings.

Besides, just like with the Khazaki language lessons that Lize had commanded him to give, Setz assumed Raytan had agreed this time only because he couldn’t refuse his mother. While she wasn’t completely against attending the debutante ball, she didn’t want to go if it meant burdening Raytan.

On their way back from Lize’s palace, Setz couldn’t help but glance at Raytan repeatedly, trying to gauge his mood. She almost wished he would scold her, telling her how foolish it was to go to such a place. At least then, she’d have an excuse to drop the matter. But he remained silent, his expression stoic. Finally, Setz gathered the courage to break the silence herself.

“Um, Brother Raytan…” she began hesitantly, her voice small.

When Raytan turned to look at her, his face was colder than usual, causing Setz to shrink back even further. See? I knew it. He’s definitely angry. She hesitated a moment longer, then spoke in a voice as tiny as a whisper.

“I… I really don’t mind if I don’t go to the debutante. I never even thought I’d have the chance to attend in the first place. It’s not like it’s meant for someone like me…”

“…….”

“I’ll talk to Lady Lize and explain. She probably just said that because she felt sorry for me. So, please, don’t worry too much. Alright?” Setz said, her head bowed as she anxiously waited for Raytan’s response.

When no answer came, Setz dared to sneak a glance at him. Raytan’s expression was unreadable, one she had never seen before. His brows were slightly furrowed, but he didn’t look angry. His lips were pressed tightly together, but he didn’t seem irritated in the way he usually did.

Something felt off.

And when he finally spoke, it was even more surprising.

“…Enough.”

“What?”

“I said enough. Stop worrying about it,” Raytan said, turning his head away from her and walking ahead without another word.

Setz stood there, dumbfounded by his unexpected reaction. After a moment, she shook herself out of her daze and hurried to catch up to him.

“Brother…?”

“…….”

“But you said before that you didn’t like those kinds of events— Ah!” Setz’s words were cut off by a startled yelp as she tripped over her own feet, falling to the ground with a thud.

Raytan halted at the sudden sound, turning back to see Setz sprawled out on the ground in a rather undignified position.

“Ouch…” Setz groaned, wincing at the pain as she noticed blood trickling from her scraped knee. What a day this has been… She was scowling at her own clumsiness when she noticed a shadow fall over her.

Raytan knelt down and inspected her injury, pulling out a handkerchief. Setz tried to wave him off, insisting she was fine, but he ignored her and wrapped the handkerchief firmly around her knee. A dark stain quickly spread across the black silk fabric.

“You didn’t have to go this far…” Setz mumbled, feeling embarrassed.

“…It’s my choice,” Raytan said softly.

“What?” Setz blinked in confusion.

“It’s not because of any other reason. At the very least… I can do this much for you,” he murmured, his voice steady yet quiet.

Setz remembered hearing once that the debutante ball was a significant event for young girls, a memory that suddenly echoed in her mind. Her assumption about Raytan had been right—he did consider the ball to be nothing more than a foolish spectacle.

So, naturally, she thought that he wouldn’t care about it at all. And yet, here he was, kneeling beside her, doing something so unexpectedly kind that she found herself at a complete loss for words.

Several years ago, when Lilien had been making a grand fuss about her debutante ball, Raytan had seen and heard it all. He remembered clearly the look on Setz’s face back then—how she had mumbled, “Must be nice,” to herself and how her shoulders had slumped in defeat.

Even now, Raytan hated events like that. He didn’t want to blend in with those people or be part of their world. But he could do this. He could be there for Setz. It irritated him to no end, the idea that something as trivial as a debutante ball could make an already timid girl like Setz feel even more wretched and insignificant.

He would have gone even if Lize hadn’t asked him to.

But the irony of the situation gnawed at him. That he would end up attending the debutante ball not for Setz, but because of Caroline Regent. And if he succeeded in winning Caroline’s favor, he would no longer need to stay close to Setz. He wouldn’t have to waste his time or deal with the complications of their relationship.

[It’s probably for the best. After all, you’ll have to discard the princess eventually. Escorting her to the ball is just a final act of kindness, nothing more.]

…Was it really any different from a parent spoiling their child with fancy clothes and sweet treats just before abandoning them, to ease their own guilt? You’re doing this of your own will? Not as some cheap act of pity?

It almost felt like he could hear a mocking voice somewhere, laughing at his hypocrisy.

I’m going to the debutante ball of my own choice. It’s not just because of my mother’s command, Raytan thought, swallowing the words before they could slip out.

“…….”

Setz looked at him with a puzzled expression. Raytan’s face held a look she had never seen before—fragile, like a leaf that might crumble at the slightest touch. It was such an unfamiliar expression on someone as tough as him that it left Setz speechless. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more.

****

“Your Majesty, the Grand Mage has arrived.”

The ornate doors opened with a flourish, and the Grand Mage entered the emperor’s chamber, bowing his head slightly before formally greeting the ruler.

“…Peter,” the emperor said, addressing the mage in a weary voice. He looked at Peter from where he sat on the edge of his bed, his face lined with wrinkles and etched with worry. It was a stark contrast to the young and confident man Peter remembered from the day of the coronation, the day he had crowned the emperor himself.

“Is something troubling you, Your Majesty?” Peter asked gently, sensing the emperor’s unease.

The emperor was silent for a moment, but Peter could tell that something was weighing heavily on his mind. He knew the emperor well—whenever he was anxious or faced with uncertainty, he always summoned Peter in this manner.

“I think… it’s time to talk to Bern,” the emperor finally said, his voice trembling with a hint of resignation.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” Peter asked, his tone cautious.

The emperor opened his mouth as if to speak but was overtaken by a dry cough. He doubled over, the harsh sound filling the room, his face contorted in pain.

“I will summon the physician immediately,” Peter said, stepping forward.

“No… no need,” the emperor managed to say, weakly waving his hand to dismiss the idea. His cough continued, and a shadow fell across Peter’s face as he watched.

Peter had known for some time that the emperor’s health was failing. The cough that had plagued him since last winter showed no sign of letting up, but he hadn’t realized just how severe it had become.

“Peter,” the emperor said, his voice hoarse and his eyes haunted by fatigue.

“You saw it yourself… I’m not getting better, no matter what we try. For now, we’re keeping it a secret, but my condition… it’s not improving.”

“…….”

“That’s why I need to speak to Bern about the seal… We must prepare him,” the emperor insisted.

Peter knew that discussing the seal before the proper time was against tradition. It was customary to reveal such secrets only after the new emperor ascended the throne, as a way to ensure absolute confidentiality. Revealing the truth too soon risked inviting rebellion from those who weren’t chosen, like rival princes or distant relatives with a claim to the throne.

His heart has grown weak, Peter thought.

The emperor had always been a man of fragile disposition, but now his fear and uncertainty seemed to stem as much from his frailty of spirit as from his aging body.

“Your Majesty… it’s still too early to speak of such things. With all due respect, please consider this: since your days as a prince, you’ve often fallen ill during the winter, only to recover as spring came. This time will be no different.”

“Peter…”

“When Prince Bern ascends to the throne, I will ensure that he knows everything he needs to about the seal. There is no need for you to worry about this now,” Peter said, his voice gentle yet firm.

Peter stopped short, wondering if he could really promise that. Could he truly be so sure?

His thoughts drifted to Raytan, the shadow that had haunted his mind for years. The Grand Mage had been closely monitoring Raytan all this time, watching for any sign of trouble. Nothing unusual had happened—no mysterious incidents like the one with Lilien’s hair catching fire, and he had detected no trace of magic from Raytan at all.

Should I tell him about the empty sarcophagus? Peter pondered, conflicted. He was the only one who knew that the sarcophagus was empty. But would revealing that now only cause more harm? He hesitated, his eyes filled with uncertainty as he looked at the emperor.

“I’m worried,” the emperor said, his voice trembling.

“…….”

“I’m afraid that while my bloodline still lives, something terrible might happen. You know what I’m talking about. It’s not just the seal… it’s them. I fear that they might—”

“They are all dead,” Peter interjected, shaking his head with determination.

“Your Majesty, that matter was settled long ago, back when you were still a prince. The late emperor ensured that every last one of them was dealt with. Not a single one survived.”

The emperor was revealing fears he had never voiced before, and Peter realized just how deeply his ruler’s spirit had withered.

Peter spoke again, this time with a voice that was both resolute and gentle, like a guardian offering reassurance to a frightened child.

“There is nothing for you to fear. I will protect you, Your Majesty, and I will safeguard Prince Bern. I will not allow anything like that to happen.”

Peter couldn’t bring himself to say what truly weighed on his mind. He kept silent, hiding the deeper truths that might shatter the emperor’s fragile sense of security.

The emperor gazed at the Grand Mage with clouded eyes, his face etched with a weary resignation. Slowly, he let his eyes close, as if even the effort to keep them open was too much. Seeing this, the Grand Mage clenched his lips in frustration and then, with a gentleness born of loyalty and sorrow, he reached out to hold the emperor’s trembling hand, trying to offer some small measure of comfort.

As he did, his thoughts drifted to the image of Raytan.

The young man with hair as black as the night, eyes as red as blood…

He bore an uncanny resemblance to the one spoken of in legends—the one whose existence had been both feared and revered.

A figure from a prophecy, long thought to be nothing more than a myth, a relic of ancient warnings. Yet, with each passing year, and each glance at Raytan’s piercing red eyes, the Grand Mage felt a chill of recognition—a dread that perhaps those old stories were not just stories after all.

***

Two days later, Madame Pauline’s dance lessons began. Setz, who had never danced a step in her life, struggled from the very start. She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to control her body in such precise movements. Madame Pauline sighed repeatedly throughout each lesson, clearly frustrated by Setz’s lack of progress. Despite being an excellent teacher, it seemed even she found it challenging to instruct someone who was naturally uncoordinated.

What surprised Setz the most, however, was Raytan. Despite also being a beginner, he picked up the dance steps with remarkable speed and received praise from Madame Pauline in less than an hour. Setz couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed by how easily he seemed to grasp something that was causing her so much trouble.

Luna, upon hearing the news, was overjoyed. She seemed especially relieved by the fact that Lize had promised to take care of everything. Setz had never owned a decent dress in her life, so finding an outfit suitable for the debutante ball was a concern, not to mention the various other preparations that came with a significant costs. Knowing that Lize was willing to provide all the necessary support was a great comfort.

Despite the meticulous arrangements Lize made, Setz’s heart remained uneasy. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was imposing on Raytan. Luna did her best to reassure her, saying that although Raytan didn’t enjoy attending such events, the fact that he was willing to escort Setz proved how much he cared about her. Luna urged her to trust Raytan, emphasizing that since he had already agreed to go, Setz should try to relax and enjoy it.

True to his word, Raytan did not withdraw his offer to escort her. But the unease in Setz’s heart wasn’t just about inconveniencing him—it was the strange expression she had seen on his face that day. Even while lying in bed at night, she tossed and turned, unable to shake the memory of how he had looked.

He almost seemed… sad, she thought.

She had never seen Raytan make that kind of face before. It was unsettling and unfamiliar. She had always known him as a stoic figure, his expressions unreadable and distant. Part of her wanted to ask him if something was wrong, but she was too afraid that he might make that face again if she did.

Setz couldn’t bring herself to share her worries with Luna either, and so she kept her thoughts to herself, feeling isolated and confused. If only Itten were still around, she thought wistfully. At least then she could have confided in him, even if it was just to share her frustrations. Maybe, as a fellow man, he might have some insight into what Raytan was feeling.

But Itten had disappeared four years ago, and there had been no sign of him since. Every now and then, Setz would visit his old room, hoping to find some clue of his return, but it remained empty. There was a growing sense of dread that he might never come back. The thought always left her feeling heavy-hearted, and now, with her plans to leave the palace soon, that feeling was even stronger.

And then there was Luna. In her previous life, Luna had died a month from now, killed in a carriage accident while returning to the palace after visiting her family. Knowing that, Setz was determined to find a way to prevent Luna from leaving the palace, at least until she herself had safely departed. If she was lucky, maybe they could leave the palace together. If she could just get through that hurdle, all she had to do was stop Yerna from poisoning Lize. I can do this. It will be okay, Setz told herself repeatedly, trying to smother the constant fear welling up inside her.

The weight of everything was overwhelming—Raytan, Lize, Luna’s impending death, Itten’s absence, and now the unexpected chaos of the debutante ball. Her mind was in turmoil, filled with so many worries and uncertainties. Feeling lost in the confusion, Setz resolved to tackle the tasks in front of her one by one. She couldn’t afford to disappoint Lize, who had gone to such lengths for her.

Setz threw herself into her daily routine. She spent her mornings learning the Khazaki language from Raytan and her afternoons practicing dance with Madame Pauline. Within days, Lize sent over several dresses and accessories, and the whirlwind of preparations left Setz with little time to dwell on her worries.

Before she knew it, the day of the debutante ball was almost upon her.

***