Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 306

Chapter 306: Before the Storm
[Lavinia’s POV — Later, Outside the Council Chamber—Imperial Palace]

The echo of the council doors closing behind me still rang in my ears, mingling with the distant hum of the palace corridors. The scent of ink and smoke clung to my sleeves—the scent of war and decision.

I expected to see Sir Haldor waiting, his usual silent, steadfast figure.

“Sir Haldor, let’s go and—”

I stopped. Because the man standing there wasn’t my captain.

It was Osric.

Leaning against one of the marble pillars, arms folded, eyes sharp beneath the faint glow of torchlight. His smile didn’t reach his eyes—it curved just enough to look polite, and not a shade more.

“Don’t you think,” he said softly, “he’s getting a little too involved in your life, Lavi?”

My breath caught—not because of the words, but because of how easily he used that tone. The one that wasn’t jealous. The one that was wounded.

I blinked, forcing my face into calm neutrality.

I walked past him, saying, “State your business, Grand Duke. We have more pressing matters ahead than—”

He moved before I could finish, his hand closing around mine. Warm. Familiar. Painful.

“Am I not important to you anymore?” he asked, voice low, almost breaking. “Tell me, Lavi—when did I stop being someone you looked back at?”

I met his eyes—and for a moment, all the war maps, decrees, and armor fell away. There was just Osric. The man who used to stand beside me under starlight, not behind me in a council chamber.

My throat tightened. “You are important to me,” I said softly. “More than you know.”

His hand tightened slightly. “But not more than him?”

“Osric—”

“Or the Empire?” he pressed, bitterness flickering beneath the calm. “Because lately, I can’t tell where you end and the crown begins.”

The words hit deeper than he intended.

I drew a breath, steady but cold, and gently pulled my hand free. The warmth of his touch vanished like it had never been there.

“You’re wrong,” I said quietly. “There’s no line between me and the crown anymore.”

He stared at me—stunned, searching—like he didn’t recognize the person standing before him.

“Lavi…” His voice broke around the name, fragile as glass. “You’re changing.”

I met his gaze—steady, unflinching. “No,” I said softly, my voice a whisper wrapped in steel. “I’ve always been like this, Osric.”

I took a step closer, close enough for him to see the truth in my eyes—the kind that no love could soften.

“It’s you,” I murmured, “who loved the wrong version of me.”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head as if refusing to believe it. “And what about us?”

For a heartbeat, I couldn’t answer. My pulse thudded loud in my ears.

“You are important too, Osric.” My voice came out soft and deliberate. “But not more important than this Empire.”

His expression faltered.

“You will always be my third priority,” I continued, the words sharp enough to draw blood. “First comes the Empire, second—my father, and third… you.”

I held his gaze, unflinching. “So now it’s you who must decide—whether you still want to stand beside me… or not.”

The silence that followed pressed hard against the air between us.

He stepped back, his jaw tightening—not out of rage, but heartbreak. “You sound just like him,” he said finally, voice hollow.

“Who?”

“The Emperor.”

That made me stop.

But only for a heartbeat.

“I should hope so. I am his blood after all,” I said, turning away. “He raised me to rule, not to waver.”

I began to walk down the corridor, my steps echoing against the marble. Osric followed beside me, his tone softening with desperation.

“I know your priorities, Lavi,” he said quietly. “I just… want you to be safe. I can’t lose you again—not like the last life.”

I stopped, turning to face him fully. “In my previous life, I was weak, Osric. I let myself die without fighting. I chose love and jealousy over my empire. But this time—” My voice sharpened, proud, unyielding. “—I’ve changed my fate. Papa has changed my fate. I’ve become what I should have been all along.”

His brows furrowed. “But war, Lavi—this war could destroy everything. Let me lead instead. Let me protect you. What If something happens to you? I can’t lose you—”

“Enough.”

The word cracked through the corridor like a whip.

“I never granted you the right to decide whether I go to war or not, Grand Duke.” I took a step closer, eyes burning into his. “I will go to war. I will lead our armies. And I am confident enough to win and take Meren for the Empire.”

I paused, my voice lowering to a deadly calm. “But it seems… the man I love doesn’t share that confidence.”

“Lavi, you’re misunderstanding—”

“Am I?” I cut him off sharply. “Then tell me, Osric—why are you standing here, pleading for me to stay behind while you march ahead? Why do you look at me like I’ll shatter the moment I step onto the battlefield? Do you think I am not strong enough to conquer Meren?”

“I…”

He didn’t answer. Or He couldn’t.

The silence stretched between us—thin, fragile, trembling.

I exhaled slowly, my tone soft but laced with steel. “Tell me the truth, Osric. Did you fall in love with me… or with your guilt that I died because of you in our last life?”

His eyes widened, the color draining from his face. “Lavi—how could you even—”

“I don’t want your guilt,” I said, turning away. “I want loyalty. I want someone who believes in me when the entire world doubts I can rule.”

I paused, my breath catching—just for a heartbeat—before I added, softer but sharper than steel:

“I want a man who doesn’t vow to die for me… but to stand beside me—until my very last breath.”

Then I stepped closer, the air between us trembling like a drawn bowstring.

“So,” I whispered, my eyes locking with his, “decide, Osric—decide which man you truly want to be.”

He reached out—but I didn’t let him touch me.

“Prepare for war, Grand Duke,” I said, my voice cold and final. “Personal matters can wait until after victory.”

I walked away before he could speak again, the sound of my heels echoing like finality itself.

Behind me, he didn’t follow.

But I could feel his gaze—heavy, broken—watching me go, as if realizing too late that the girl he loved no longer existed.

Only the Empress remained.

I turned down another corridor, my footsteps echoing softly against the marble. The air was cooler here—still, watchful.

And there he was.

Sir Haldor stood waiting at the far end of the hall, the morning light cutting across his armor in streaks of pale gold. His posture was perfect—rigid yet calm, the kind of stillness that spoke of discipline carved into bone.

I paused, masking the storm behind my calm. “Sir Haldor.”

He bowed immediately, his voice steady as ever. “Your Highness. I was waiting to inform you—the message has been sent to the northern battalions.”

I exhaled slowly, the tension leaving my shoulders. “Good. Make sure I receive updates on every movement. Even the smallest detail matters now.”

He nodded. “As you command.”

We began walking side by side down the long corridor.

“Also,” I added, glancing ahead, “try to get me the full tactical map of Meren—their terrain, their river routes, and every known fortress line.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he replied. “General Arwin is already gathering intelligence. He said a detailed map should reach us within the next two days.”

“Good,” I said, my tone firm. “And make sure the villages near the border are cleared immediately. I want every civilian moved to safety before dawn. No casualties before the war even begins.”

He bowed his head. “It will be done, Your Highness.”

And then…

“Are you all right, Your Highness?”

I froze mid-step. Just for a heartbeat.

So… he had heard.

I turned my gaze forward again, my voice smooth but quiet. “My father raised me strong enough to withstand far greater things than this, Sir Haldor. A broken heart is a trivial matter compared to a broken empire.”

He said nothing. But his eyes, calm and steady, lingered on me for a moment longer—like a silent vow.

I continued, softer this time, though my words carried the sharp edge of command. “Focus on what lies ahead. The court whispers, the nobles doubt, and the enemy tests our strength. I want you ready to prove to them all why…”

I looked up at him then—meeting his unwavering gaze.

“…why I moved an entire hierarchy for you.”

His composure didn’t falter, but his voice held something different this time—something deeper. “I will prove it, Your Highness,” he said quietly. “Not through words… but through victory.”

I nodded once. “That’s all I ask.”

The torches lining the corridor flickered as we passed, casting brief halos of light around us. Each step echoed like a countdown.

To war. To destiny. To the beginning of something neither of us could turn back from.

And just like that, the Crown Princess and her Captain walked toward the dawn—both carrying the weight of an empire… and the silent promise of what it meant to stand beside power.

And with each step, the sound of war replaced the sound of love.