Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 295

Chapter 295: Where the War Can’t Reach
[Lavinia’s POV — Hallway—Continuation]

The echo of my heels faded against the marble as I stepped out of the Imperial Court, the weight of diplomacy still lingering in the air.

“Lavi…”

His voice stopped me—warm, familiar, threaded with something softer than formality.

I turned, already smiling. “Good afternoon, Grand Duke Osric.”

He laughed under his breath, closing the distance between us. “I told you, I’m not Grand Duke yet.”

I tilted my head, teasing. “Not yet. But in a week you will be. Might as well get used to the title.”

Osric shook his head, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. “You always were impatient with protocol.”

He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered for just a moment too long—long enough to send a small, traitorous flutter through my chest.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you today,” he said quietly.

I smiled, trying to ignore how his voice softened when he spoke to me. “It’s alright. You’ve been busy preparing for your coronation.”

He hesitated—then drew out a small, velvet envelope embossed with gold. “Still… I wanted to give this to you personally.”

I took it, running my thumb over the seal. “An invitation?”

“Just for you, my love.” His tone was half-whisper, half-confession. “Please… be there. It wouldn’t feel right if you weren’t.”

A blush crept up my neck before I could stop it. “Of course, I’ll come. After all” —I smiled, looking up at him— “it’s my fiancé’s coronation ceremony.”

Something shifted in his eyes then, a flash of pride—or maybe longing. He took my hands gently in his, his thumb brushing across my knuckles.

“Then,” he said, almost shyly, “would the princess honor me with a walk before I return to my duties?”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You ask as if I could refuse you.”

He grinned. “I’d rather make it sound romantic than assume.”

“Then let’s walk,” I said, and together we began down the sunlit hallway.

After a few quiet steps, I asked lightly, “Where’s Solena? I haven’t seen her all morning.”

Osric chuckled. “Most likely lazing around with Marshi in the garden again. Those two have declared war on responsibility.”

I laughed at that, the sound echoing between the pillars. “How enviable. Maybe I should join them.”

He glanced sideways, smiling. “I’d rather you didn’t. I quite like having your company to myself for once.”

***

[Palace Gardens—Continuation]

The late afternoon sun poured like honey through the marble arches, softening the world into gold. The garden greeted us with the scent of jasmine and the gentle rustle of leaves. Somewhere nearby, the fountains murmured like distant laughter, and petals danced in the breeze.

We walked slowly, side by side. For a while, neither of us spoke. It was peaceful—almost deceptively so—the kind of peace that felt too fragile to last.

My gaze drifted toward the distant horizon, beyond the palace walls. Meren. Even the thought of it made my chest tighten.

“Osric…” I began softly, breaking the quiet. “If Meren doesn’t back down… if their king truly wants war…”

He turned his head, studying me. I continued, my voice barely above the whisper of wind.

“Then people will die. Innocent people. Our farmers, our soldiers, our children… I don’t want to see our rivers run red because of a foolish man’s pride.”

Osric sighed and stopped walking. I turned to face him, but before I could say another word, he took my hand. His touch was gentle and grounding.

“Lavi,” he murmured, his tone half-pleading, half-tender. “Can we not talk about war right now?”

I blinked, startled. “Osric—”

“Just for a moment,” he said quietly. “Just for this walk… can we talk about us?”

The words caught me off guard. The way he said “us”—as if it were something sacred, fragile, worth fighting the whole world for—it made my heart ache in ways diplomacy never could.

“I know your mind is always on your people,” he continued, his thumb brushing my wrist. “That’s one of the thousand reasons I fell for you. But right now, I just want you to be you—not the crown, not the heir, not the strategist.”

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I want to talk to my Lavi.”

For a moment, his words hung between us—soft, disarming, and far too tender for the crown I wore. He was right. At this moment, it was just us — not the kingdom, not the court, not the endless weight of diplomacy.

But even then, I couldn’t silence the voice that had been trained into me since childhood.Before everything, I am the Crown Princess. Before I loved him, I was sworn to protect the people under me.

How could I just forget…then again…he was also right. Forgetting the crown—if only for a heartbeat—wasn’t so terrible when I was with him.

I sighed softly and smiled up at him. “I’m sorry, Osric… perhaps we should have some tea?”

His smile bloomed like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “Gladly.”

We walked together beneath the big trees to the small marble pavilion overlooking the lotus pond. The maids were quick—within minutes, delicate cups of rose tea steamed between us, filling the air with warmth and sweetness.

I watched the ripples dance across the pond as a gentle breeze swept through, brushing stray petals onto the table.

“This feels… peaceful,” I murmured.

Osric leaned back, a teasing smile curving his lips. “Almost suspiciously peaceful. I keep expecting Ravick to appear from a bush shouting, ‘Training session!'”

I giggled, nearly spilling my tea. “Don’t jinx it!”

He chuckled and reached across the table, brushing his fingers lightly against mine. “I’ll take my chances.”

Before I could say anything more, a loud ROAR shook the garden.

Both of us turned.

There, by the fountain, Marshi was engaged in what could only be described as a furious staring contest with Solena.

“Not again,” I groaned.

Solena screeched, flapping her enormous wings in indignation, while Marshi flicked his tail and bared his fangs in silent challenge.

“They’re fighting again,” Osric said, trying not to laugh. “You’d think a divine eagle and a divine tiger would have learned diplomacy by now.”

“They’ve been watching me too much,” I muttered.

“Maybe,” he teased, “they’re arguing about who gets to eat the strawberry cake first.”

I gave him a look, half amused, half exasperated. “If that’s the case, they’ll both end up clawing each other to feathers and stripes.”

Marshi let out a deep growl as Solena swooped low, plucking one of his whiskers and flying away triumphantly. The Marshi’s roar echoed through the gardens.

“Oh dear,” I sighed, sipping my tea calmly. “That’s the third whisker this week.”

Osric was laughing now—freely, warmly—and somehow the sound wrapped around me like sunlight. For a while, we simply sat there, watching divine beasts bicker like children, sipping tea that tasted faintly of roses and peace.

And for the first time in days, my heart felt lighter. Maybe the world was on the edge of war.Maybe tomorrow would bring fire and steel.

But right now, in this little corner of paradise, surrounded by laughter, tea, and the man I loved—I let myself forget.

Just for a little while.

***

[Later — Dawnspire Wing — Toward Lavinia’s Chamber]

The moonlight spilled like silver silk across the marble corridor as I walked with Marshi padding beside me, his fur brushing my gown. He let out a low, lazy rumble — somewhere between a growl and a yawn.

“I wonder what Ravick has planned,” I sighed, glancing down at him. “I should’ve been there.”

Marshi just blinked, already dozing.

“I spent more time with Osric than I decided to,” I muttered.

When I reached my chamber, I stopped short.

Sir Haldor stood outside the door — back straight, expression as unreadable as always… except tonight, there was something different. His shoulders were more relaxed. His eyes almost… sparkled.

Was that a smile? No. Impossible.But still — he looked happy.

I folded my arms, tilting my head. “So… are you happy because you might be going to war, Sir Haldor?”

He blinked. Once. Twice.

“I… am not, Your Highness,” he said quickly, far too quickly. “I would never want a war. I only expect… peace.”

Oho…Look at him lying so calmly. Impressive.

“Oh really?” I stepped closer still, leaning just enough for him to tense. “Then why does your face say otherwise?”

“I—It does not.”

“Mm-hm.” I leaned a little closer, eyes narrowing playfully. “Really?”

He turned his head slightly, avoiding my gaze. “Yes.”

I moved right. He turned left.

I moved left. He turned right.

Right. Left. Right. Left.

Finally, he groaned—the tiniest sound of surrender—and blurted, “Yes, fine! I am… very excited.”

I broke into laughter, the sound echoing softly through the hall. “I knew it! The brave, stoic Captain of the Imperial Knights—secretly thrilled for battle.”

His ears went faintly pink, his composure cracking just enough to make him endearing. “It is not thrilled, Your Highness,” he muttered. “It is… professional enthusiasm.”

“Oh, of course.” I grinned. “Professional enthusiasm for clashing swords and glorious chaos. Completely different thing.”

His lips twitched—almost a smile. “You mock me, Your Highness.”

“Only because it’s so easy.”

Marshi gave a soft chuff beside me, almost as if agreeing. “Even Marshi thinks you’re too obvious.”

Sir Haldor sighed in defeat. “I shall… take that as an order to improve my discipline.”

“Good,” I said cheerfully, brushing past him toward the door. “Now, come inside and tell me what Ravick has planned. I assume you’ve already read half his reports before he even finished them?”

His cheeks were still faintly pink, and his voice wavered slightly when he answered, “Y-Yes, Your Highness.”

And as he followed me inside, Marshi flicked his tail with a smug little swish—as if he approved of the teasing.