Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 289
Chapter 289: Blades Between Hearts
[Training Ground—Later—Osric’s POV]
Steel clashed in rhythmic bursts—sharp, clean, and controlled.
The sound guided me through the corridor until I reached the archway of the private royal training yard. Frost bit at the stone beneath my boots, sunlight glinting off every surface like the world itself was drawn in blades.
And there she was.
Lavinia.
A streak of wildfire in the form of a woman—moving fast, precise, and angry.
She was sparring with Captain Haldor, her most unyielding guard. His strikes were heavy, disciplined, and meant to test a warrior’s endurance. Hers—swift, relentless—meant to make someone bleed.
Their swords collided in a vicious dance.
Haldor pushed her back with a brutal downward strike. She spun under it, teeth clenched, answering with a thrust that forced him to block hastily.
Steel scraped steel, sparks flying, but there was fury beneath every impact.
Her fury.
Lavinia moved like a storm barely held by armor, her strikes fast and vicious. Captain Haldor met every blow with steady patience—not violence. Each block, each deflection, was a deliberate act of protection, not aggression.
He knew exactly why she was angry.
“Breathe, Your Highness.” Haldor’s voice remained firm and grounded. “You need to calm your heart.”
“I am calm,” she snapped, slashing with enough force to rattle his shoulder.
“That was not calm,” he countered.
She whirled around with another strike—powerful, reckless. Haldor stepped back rather than stop her forcefully. He let the momentum pass harmlessly through the air.
“You’re letting anger guide your feet,” he said. “That is how battles are lost.”
Her jaw tightened. “You’re lecturing me now?”
“I dare not, your highness,” Haldor replied, catching her blade and gently twisting it off its line. “I am reminding you that you are stronger than what hurts you.”
Her chest rose and fell sharply. She lunged again—this time Haldor didn’t even lift his sword. He simply sidestepped, hand rising to press lightly against the flat of her blade.
“Enough,” he said quietly. “Or you will injure yourself.”
“Then let me.” Her voice cracked—anger mixed with something rawer.
Haldor’s gaze softened—but only slightly. “You do not get to destroy yourself because of someone else’s mistakes.”
Her eyes flickered—fury warring with the sting of truth.
Haldor dropped his sword to his side and spoke even lower: “He is watching you, Your Highness.”
She went still.
Slowly, she turned—her gaze locking on mine. Heat. Hurt. Disappointment. Each emotion a precise arrow, burying straight into my chest. She did not blink. Did not flinch.
“Sir Haldor,” she said, her voice chilling into ice.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“Step back. The Grand Duke will be sparring now.”
Haldor obeyed instantly, retreating like he’d just stood too close to a storm.
Her eyes stayed fixed on me—cold, merciless. “Grand Duke Osric. Step forward.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m not Grand Duke yet, Lavi—”
“We are in public, Osric,” she snapped, authority slicing the air, “and soon you will be taking that position, will you not? Grand Duke Osric.”
Her emphasis on the title felt like a blade pressed against my throat. I bowed, forcing steadiness into my voice.
“As you command, Your Highness.”
“Enter the grounds.”
I shrugged off my jacket, unbuckled my sword, and stepped into the ring—my heart pacing like a prisoner desperate for escape.
Her glare sharpened. “Armor. Now.”
“It’s fine, your highness,” I tried to smile, desperate for the woman I loved beneath the crown, “you would never harm me.”
She took one step closer, the air around her crackling with rage reined in by royal discipline.
“Do. Not. Trust me, Grand Duke.” Every word was a strike. “Because right now, you have earned neither my trust… nor the right to trust in me.”
Her voice dropped low—dangerously low.
“Raise your sword, Grand duke, because…I am letting you go off easily today.”
The moment my boots touched the training ground, she moved.
No command. No warning.
She attacked like she’d been waiting centuries to destroy me. Steel flashed—my arm barely came up in time to block before her blade slammed against mine with a force that rattled my soul.
“Lavi—!”
“Don’t you dare say my name.” Her voice was a serrated edge.
A kick struck my ribs—brutal—knocking the air from my lungs. I stumbled, boots scraping against cold stone.
“You kneel,” she snarled, slashing again, “for a woman who ruined me once—”
Clash.
“—and you do it again—”
Clash.
“—in this life?”
I faltered. Her sword sliced across my forearm—clean, merciless—blood blooming like crimson ink across the steel. My grip trembled, breath catching in my throat.
“I—I truly apologize, Lavi—”
Her eyes blazed—no, burned—with something far more terrifying than any battlefield I’d ever seen.
“Your Highness…” I swallowed hard, my voice trembling. “I only thought—if you killed her—people would call you—”
She spun, a streak of gold and fury. The tip of her blade halted just beneath my chin, cold steel kissing my throat.
“Why,” she said softly, her voice sharper than the edge itself, “do you act as if the empire’s burden lies on your shoulders, Grand Duke—when I’m the one who carries it?”
She stepped forward—slow, deliberate—the tip of her sword never leaving my skin. Her eyes glowed like twin suns, cruel and unrelenting.
“Now tell me, Grand Duke,” she hissed, pressing the blade just enough to draw blood, “how would you like to die in this life? By my father’s hand again… or by mine?”
A thin line of blood trickled down my neck. I didn’t flinch. I looked straight into her stormy eyes.
“If I must die,” I said hoarsely, “then let it be at your hands, my princess.”
She flinched. Just a flicker—but I saw it—then her lip curved into a dangerous smile.
“Do you think I won’t do it?” she murmured. “You truly take me lightly, Grand duke. But…it was all my fault that I have been too easy on you. You underestimated me.”
“…I never underestimated you, Your Highness.” My voice was steady now. “You’re the kind of woman who wouldn’t hesitate to kill—whether it’s a noble… or your own fiancé.”
Her sword tensed against my throat, but I went on.
“But listen, Your Highness. I knelt that day not because I doubted you—but because I didn’t want them to whisper that you killed Count Talvan’s daughter over some love. That you slaughtered her because she touched something that belongs to you.”
Her jaw tightened. The hand holding the sword quivered—barely, but enough for me to notice.
“You held her in your arms!” she hissed. “You acted as if she mattered.”
“I acted so you wouldn’t have to drown in blood for a worm of a woman who isn’t worth the dust on your heel.”
Her eyes flickered—rage warring with something softer.
“I wanted them to see you not as a woman in love,” I continued, “but as a ruler who punishes corruption. A princess whose justice is absolute.”
The silence stretched, heavy as stone. Pain pulsed. The sword still pressed.
“My betrayal… was unforgivable.” I bowed my head against the blade, willingly carving the cut deeper.
“But my intentions?” I lifted my gaze, voice breaking. “My priority—has always been you.”
She inhaled sharply.
I met her gaze, unflinching. “I belong to you, Your Highness. You can kill me, cast me aside, or grind my name to dust—but that day when I knelt, there was no empire, no honor… only you.”
Her blade trembled, the edge drawing a fresh bead of blood. For a single, dangerous heartbeat, the empress-to-be vanished, and beneath the crown’s shadow stood a woman fighting not to care.
She blinked hard—once, twice—forcing the tremor from her eyes as if emotion itself were an enemy to be slain.
“You…” Her voice cracked, sharp and trembling all at once. “You always say the right things… when it’s already too late.”
I smiled—small, broken, bitter.
“Then let me spend whatever breath I have left,” I murmured, “fighting for the chance to say them before it’s too late.”
Her sword trembled. But it wasn’t just the steel that shook. She took a single step forward—close enough that our foreheads almost touched, close enough that her whisper brushed my lips like a secret meant to burn.
“Don’t make me regret letting you live again, Grand Duke,” she said, her voice sharp enough to reopen every wound she’d just given. “Because there are no second chances in this life.”
“I won’t,” I vowed, steady even as my throat pulsed with the sting of her blade. “Not in this life. Not ever again.”
Her sword finally lowered.
But the damage remained. Not just the cut she carved into my skin —but the deeper one she carved into us.
Silent.Raw.Still bleeding.
She turned, posture regal and unshaken. “Sir Haldor,” she commanded, “treat the Grand Duke’s wounds.”
Haldor stepped forward at once, but she wasn’t done. She looked back at me—eyes like embers smoldering behind ice.
“After that,” she added coolly, “resume your duty.”
I inhaled, forcing a faint smile that hurt more than the cut on my neck. “Yes, your highness.”
Her gaze did not soften.
“I am trusting you again, Grand Duke,” she said, each word slow, deliberate—a sentence and a prayer in one. “Do not break my heart a second time.”
A pause.
A confession wrapped in armor.
“Because if you do…” Her voice dropped—cold, steady, and final. “I won’t hesitate to eliminate you.”
The warning struck harder than any blade.
“My heart may still belong to you,” she whispered, barely audible. “But even the deepest wounds… eventually stop hurting.”
With that, she turned and walked away—each step a reminder of what I had lost… and what little I still had left to fight for.