Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 290

Chapter 290: Only Us!
[Lavinia’s Office—Later—Lavinia’s Pov]

I scribbled the last few lines on the parchment, the tip of my quill catching faintly in the candlelight. Rey stretched, the joints in his shoulders popping audibly as he yawned.

“I’ve finished, Princess… your signatures are needed,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

I glanced up, brushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear. “Alright. Bring them here.”

He moved swiftly, handing me a stack of parchments, each stamped with seals that carried weight heavier than iron. “Irethene is being contained,” he began, “the new dukes and barons have started taking responsibility.”

I raised an eyebrow as I flipped through the parchments. “And the magicians?” I asked, scanning the lines with a sharp eye. “The magic stones… are they stable?”

Rey nodded. “Stable enough for now. The experiments continue, but nothing volatile—except…” His voice faltered slightly.

I leaned forward, narrowing my eyes at the last report. “The water flowing from Meren Kingdom… it isn’t clear?” My fingers tapped the parchment impatiently.

“Yes,” Rey confirmed. “The cause is… still unknown. The channels were inspected twice, but no contamination source was found. It’s subtle, but unusual.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling slowly. “Did you write the letter to Meren regarding this?”

Rey hesitated. “I drafted it, Princess, but…” He swallowed, choosing his words carefully. “Given recent tensions and your counter-terms to their envoy, I thought it best you review it first.”

I straightened, the fire in my chest flaring. “Of course. I will not let them assume weakness, Rey. This is no mere trickle of water—they test our patience and our control over our own borders. Every drop carries intent.”

He inclined his head. “Understood, Your Highness. Shall I bring the letter to the northern envoy for your seal?”

I picked up the quill again, dipping it in ink. “Not yet. I will address Meren myself. Let them know the Princess of Eloria does not tolerate subterfuge, and that every action will have consequence.”

Rey nodded, and after a beat, I asked, “Did Count Talvan—remove Eleania from his household?”

He sighed. “Of course he didn’t.”

My fingers tapped the desk. “Even after my order?”

“Even after your order,” Rey echoed, rubbing at his temple. “Talvan is stubborn as old iron.”

I let the irritation gather like a storm cloud, and then—KNOCK, KNOCK.

Osric stepped in before the servant had finished announcing him. For a second our eyes met; the air snapped electric. I let a small, precise smile curve my lips. “Rey, send another decree. Tell Count Talvan: if he does not throw Eleania from his household, I will have the Grand Duke personally drag her to the dungeons.”

Osric’s face went still; a bitter little smile escaped him. “I won’t hesitate, Your Highness,” he said quietly. “I won’t repeat the mistake twice.”

Rey’s amusement was obvious — the way he leaned against the window, the way his mouth twitched. “So,” he said, stepping closer, “did you two patch things up while I was off being the kingdom’s conscience?”

We didn’t answer, which earned him an exaggerated eye roll. “Come on, Princess—soon Lord Osric will be Grand Duke and you will be married. How many more days are you going to sulk?”

I pinned him with a look sharp enough to cut banners. He flinched a fraction and grinned. “Just asking.”

Then I turned my gaze back to Osric. Cold, careful amusement laced my words. “Even if I marry you,” I said, “I will suck your blood like a proper vampire and taunt you about this mistake for the rest of your natural life.”

Silence filled the room. Rey choked on a laugh. Osric muttered, half to himself, half to fate, “I am doomed, right?”

I glanced at the scattered papers on my desk and deadpanned, “Happy realization. You’ve been doomed since the day you tangled yourself with me.”

Rey whooped softly, the sound more like a tea kettle steaming. “Ah—romance,” he said. “Truly terrifying.”

Then Rey shrugged, already halfway out the door. “I’ll leave you two alone and have the decree written. Talvan will have a nice surprise.”

When the door shut, the chamber felt simultaneously colder and maddeningly alive. I set my seal down with a small, ruthless satisfaction. My eyes flicked to Osric. Our gazes locked, and for a moment, the world shrank to just us.

Then—FWIP!!!!

I snapped my head sideways like a startled cat.

Osric blinked, stunned and totally dumbfounded. “I thought you forgave me?”

“I did.” My voice was calm, but my heart was plotting its own rebellion.

“No… you’re still angry,” he said, frowning, clearly misunderstanding how forgiveness and lingering resentment worked.

I said nothing, only stepped closer.

And then—RAISE!

He lifted me effortlessly, holding me like I weighed no more than a feather.

“Osric… what—” I wriggled like a rebellious caterpillar. “Release me! Do you think I’m a child?”

He smirked, the kind of dangerous, devilish smirk that made my knees threaten to buckle. Then, before I could protest further, he pressed his lips to my cheeks. Deeply. Way too deeply. Like he was inhaling my face and claiming it as his.

I froze, my jaw literally hanging open. Cheeks stinging, eyes wide, I squeaked, “Are… are you… ARE YOU TRYING TO EAT ME ALIVE?!”

He chuckled—a rich, teasing sound—and hugged me tighter. “Yes.”

I shoved at his chest. “You are ridiculous!”

“And you, my Lavi,” he said, grinning like a mischievous demon, “are mine.”

“I am not yours!” I shouted. Then, realizing how utterly ridiculous I sounded, I muttered, “Well… maybe a little.”

He leaned in, whispering against my ear, “Good. Because a little is all I’ll need to torment you forever.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes, but inside—my heart did a very unladylike dance.

“Put me down!” I hissed, smacking his shoulder.

Osric only laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest as he spun me once—once!—like I was some royal trophy he’d just won.

“Osric!”

“Yes, Your Highness?” he asked innocently, still holding me as if I were the empire’s most precious artifact.

I glared. “You’re mocking me.”

“Only because you’re adorable when you’re angry.”

I groaned, the fight draining out of me, and slumped onto his shoulder. His warmth was steady and grounding, and I let myself melt into it. The chaos of the past hours—the anger, the fear, the betrayal—all faded like smoke.

A single tear slipped down my cheek. “Don’t… don’t ever do that again. I hate seeing you kneel for someone else.”

He gently put me down, lifting my chin with a careful thumb to brush away the stray tear. “I promise,” he whispered, voice low and sincere, “I won’t. From now on… the only person I’ll worship is you, my princess.”

The words were warm, but they didn’t stop the tears. My chest heaved as I let myself feel everything—the relief, the lingering hurt, and the love that refused to be silenced.

Without warning, he scooped me up again, holding me close as he walked toward the couch. He settled me on his lap, his arms curling around me protectively. “This is the first—and last—time I’ll let you cry like this, Lavi,” he murmured, voice soft but commanding. “I won’t do it again. Give me another chance.”

I hiccuped, pressing my face against his chest, eyes fixed on the faint pulse at his throat. “If you do again… I will really kill you.”

He chuckled, nuzzling me closer, letting the sound vibrate through me. “Alright, my princess… I promise. Just… calm down, okay? You’re wetting my shirt.”

I shot him a glare sharp enough to pierce armor.

He froze, a nervous laugh escaping. “I… I was just kidding,” he said quickly, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed him. “You can wet all my shirts. I don’t mind.”

I pressed closer, letting my tears dampen his chest, feeling his heartbeat against my temple. “I don’t care if you were kidding,” I murmured. “I just… I don’t want to lose you again.”

His lips brushed the top of my head. “You’ll never lose me, Lavi. Not now, not ever. I’m yours… and only yours.”

I closed my eyes, letting the warmth and promise settle deep inside me. Somehow, with him, even the world’s weight felt lighter, as if nothing could touch us here.

“Do you want to kiss?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant, yet filled with that magnetic certainty I could never resist.

I looked up at him, heart hammering, and nodded.

He smirked, that dangerous, irresistible smirk, before closing the distance between us. This time, there was no teasing, no playful bite—just raw, tender heat. His lips pressed against mine, and it was like the world had finally tilted into the right position.

It started gentle, a slow, lingering brush, testing, savoring. But quickly, it deepened—hot, warm, insistent—like he was memorizing me, claiming every inch I offered, and I wanted nothing more than to let him. My hands curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, needing every heartbeat, every inch of him.

I could feel the fight, the frustration, and the anger all dissolving into this moment—replaced by an ache I didn’t even know I carried. Every sigh, every tremor between us, spoke louder than words ever could.

When we finally broke apart for air, his forehead rested against mine, breaths mingling, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze searing into me.

“This… this is us,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion. “From now on, only us.”

I let out a shaky laugh, half from relief, half from awe. “Only us,” I echoed, my lips brushing his once more, sealing that promise with a kiss that burned with everything we had survived—and everything we were about to begin.

And in that embrace, with his arms holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world, I knew… no matter what came next, we would face it together.