Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 331

Chapter 331: Decoys, Delusions, and the Lioness
[Lavinia’s POV—Western Darn Castle—Night Before the March]

The war room emptied one by one.

Scrolls were rolled. Maps were sealed. Armors clanked faintly as soldiers hurried to prepare. The air buzzed with the kind of tension that made even silence heavy.

Outside, the night was calm.

Deceptively calm. As if the kingdom itself were holding its breath.

I stood alone before the wide open window, staring out into the vast stretch of darkness that led toward the Western Border. Torches littered the distant field like scattered stars—our troops, moving in disciplined rows, preparing through the night.

Behind me, footsteps crossed the chamber.

“Your Highness,” Haldor’s voice said, low and steady, “the decoy units are ready. All three divisions are awaiting your command.”

I didn’t turn.

“Good,” I replied softly. “And the fastest riders?”

“Handpicked,” he said. “The best scouts. They know they are not to engage, only lure.”

“Rey?”

“Preparing illusion spells to amplify noise and movement,” Haldor said. “He will not be on the front lines.”

Good. Rey on a battlefield was a disaster waiting to happen.

“And Arwin?”

“Personally training the left flank decoys.”

My fingers tapped the window’s edge. One. Two. Three. Everything was falling into place. Every fragment of my strategy aligned like chess pieces facing their inevitable endgame.

I exhaled slowly.

“General Luke will break formation,” I murmured. “He’ll have no choice. He has to protect the prince—in every direction at once.”

Haldor stepped closer, stopping at a respectful distance, though his presence filled the space like a warm shield wrapping around my spine.

“Tomorrow,” he said quietly, “will change Meren forever.”

“Yes,” I whispered. “Tomorrow… the real war begins.”

The weight of that truth pressed down on both of us—thick, suffocating, real.

No more easy victories. No more castles surrendering. No more strategic dances. This time, people would die. This time, the empire would bleed. And this time, I would face the boy who wanted my head mounted on his wall.

I turned away from the window and looked up at Haldor.

He straightened instantly, but there was something in his eyes—something heavy. Something he wanted to say but held back.

“What is it?” I asked.

He hesitated.

Then spoke softly, “Tomorrow will be dangerous. More dangerous than anything we’ve faced yet.”

“Yes,” I agreed.

“If anything happens to you—”

“It won’t,” I cut him off.

He stepped closer—close enough that I felt the heat of him, the steady warmth he carried like armor. Haldor Vaelthorn was a wall… But tonight, he was a trembling wall.

“Your Highness,” he said, voice tighter than usual, “I need you to stay behind me tomorrow. At all times.”

I stared at him for a long, heavy moment. Then I leaned my back against the stone window frame, the moonlight cutting across my face like a crown of steel.

“Haldor,” I said quietly, “come closer.”

He obeyed instantly.

One step.

Then another.

Until he stood directly before me—too close, too tense.

“Closer,” I repeated.

He dropped to one knee without hesitation.

“Your Highness,” he bowed, head lowered.

I tilted my head, studying the man kneeling before me. “Tell me, Haldor… who am I?”

He didn’t even need to think.

“You are the only princess of Eloria,” he said, voice steady though his heart wasn’t. “The heir to the throne. The future Empress.”

“And?” I pressed.

His breath hitched before he lifted his head—eyes meeting mine.

“You,” he said softly, “are the strongest princess in Eloria.”

A slow smirk curved my lips.

“See,” I murmured, “you know exactly who I am. And yet you tell me to stay behind you.” I leaned down slightly, eyes burning into his. “Tell me, Haldor… do you truly think that suits me?”

He swallowed, bowing deeper. “No, Your Highness. It does not. I… apologize.”

“No,” I said, my voice cutting the air sharply. “You do not need to apologize.”

He looked up—confused, hopeful, scared. I stepped forward, placing my hand lightly in his hair, fingers sliding through the soft strands. His eyes widened—just a fraction—but he didn’t move away.

“I know you’re worried,” I said quietly. “I know your fear is real. And I respect that.”

My hand tilted his chin upward just slightly.

“But listen to me carefully, Haldor Vaelthorn.”

His breath caught.

“I am not a rat who hides behind a lion.”

His lips parted—but no sound came out.

“You,” I continued, my fingers threading slowly through his hair, “are my lion. Strong. Loyal. Fearless.”

His eyes softened—dangerously soft.

“But do you know, Haldor,” I whispered, leaning just a bit closer, “what creature is stronger… fiercer… and far more dangerous than a lion?”

His voice was barely a breath. “The lioness… Your Highness.”

My smirk widened, sharp and proud.

“Exactly.”

I straightened, lifting my chin.

“Tomorrow, I may bleed,” I said. “I may fall. But I will not hide. And I will not let anyone—prince or general or fate—decide my battle for me.”

His eyes shone—pain, devotion, and awe blending into something he didn’t dare name.

“You will fight beside me,” I continued. “Not in front of me. Not instead of me.”

My thumb brushed his cheek—barely a touch, but enough to send tension rippling through him.

“We conquer this kingdom together. Every soldier. Every blade. Every heartbeat.” My voice dropped to a whisper, lethal and soft. “You all are my strength… and I am yours. Do you understand?”

He nodded once—slow, reverent, breath unsteady.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Yes, Your Highness. I understand.”

I released him gently, and he lowered his head again—kneeling not out of duty, but out of something far deeper, far more dangerous.

“Good,” I said.

Moonlight spilled over him like a blessing.

***

[Western Darn Outskirts—Dawn]

The sun had barely risen when the first horns blew.

Sharp.

Cold.

Perfect.

Arwin galloped up beside me, cloak snapping in the wind. “First decoy group in position, Your Highness.”

“Good,” I said. “Signal them. Make it loud.”

A soldier raised the crimson flag.

Once.

Twice.

The moment it dropped, the forest exploded.

“FOR ELORIA!” the decoy group roared as they charged out of the trees.

Ten thousand soldiers—fast, agile, and loud—thundered toward the Western border, kicking up dirt like a storm.

But they weren’t aiming for victory. They were aiming for chaos.

“For speed!” Captain Haldor shouted. “Not blood! Move!”

Exactly as I commanded.

Haldor rode beside me, eyes scanning the horizon. “General Luke will send at least fifteen thousand soldiers to intercept.”

A slow smile curved my lips. “That’s the point.”

Seconds later—a massive Meren banner tore through the smoke. General Luke had taken the bait.

***

[Luke’s Pov—Meren Border Camp]

The moment I saw the dust cloud, my face darkened.

“That’s too fast,” I muttered. “No army moves like that.”

But Prince Kaelren leaned over the map, slamming his hand on it. “THEY’RE CHARGING! They’re scared! We can crush them—Luke, SEND THE SOLDIERS!”

I clenched my jaw. “Your Highness, I must examine their—”

“JUST DO IT!”

I inhaled sharply.

The last time I disobeyed a prince… he killed many soldiers in anger. I would not repeat that mistake again. I cannot lose soldiers life….as a joke.

“…Send fifteen thousand,” I ordered. “Hold formation. No reckless pursuit.”

My officers rushed out.

In the distance, the Elorian slammed into my soldiers—clashing with shields, striking, retreating.

Too fast.

Too fluid.

Not fighting to win.

I narrowed my eyes. “This is wrong; something is fishy.”

These weren’t soldiers. They were bait. My jaw tightened as another report came from the left.

“General! The enemy ran into the woods—our men can’t catch them!”

Of course they couldn’t.

No real army moves that fast unless they’re running on fear… or orders.

I narrowed my eyes at the battlefield again—at the “Elorian forces” darting like lightning across the terrain, never staying long enough to be captured, never engaging long enough to spill blood.

“This is wrong,” I muttered. “Something is… extremely wrong.”

And the worst part?

I knew it.

Every bone, every scar, every instinct I had earned over twenty years whispered the same thing: This is a decoy war.

I could feel it.Taste it.Hear it in the uneven clash of metal.See it in the restless dust clouds drifting away from all three flanks.

But—I turned.

And there he was.

The prince.My prince.Who was bouncing his leg like an excited toddler watching fireworks.

Kaelren smirked wide enough to split his face. “I will win! I knew it! They’re running from me! They know I’m the future emperor!”

I stared at him.

Dead.

Silent.

Lifeless inside.

By the gods—How was this child supposed to lead a kingdom? If stupidity had a crown, it would sit perfectly on his head.

I exhaled, a long suffering breath. “…Your Highness, they are not running from you.”

But he was too lost in his delusions.

“HAHA! Look at them! Pathetic Elorians! Weak Elorians! I will take their princess, her throne, her jewels—no—HER WHOLE EMPIRE!”

I closed my eyes.

And genuinely considered defecting on the spot.

“I should’ve been fighting for Eloria…” I whispered under my breath. “At least they have an heir who speaks in full sentences… and uses their brain… unlike the idiot standing in front of me.”

He didn’t hear me.

He never does.

The gods are merciful. A soldier approached, trembling. “General! Orders?!”

I rubbed my temples.

“We need to divide the forces,” I finally said. “Fifteen thousand on each side.”

Kaelren nodded smugly as if it was his idea. “Yes, yes, good, good! My general obeys me!”

I shot him a deadpan look that could curdle milk.

I turned to the nearest officer. “Captain Rhen.”

Rhen straightened. “Yes, General!”

“You will lead the left flank. Drive them out, but do NOT—” I glared at Kaelren, “—pursue too far. There is something off about this enemy.”

Rhen nodded, though concern flickered in his eyes. “Understood, sir.”

He mounted his horse, raised his arm, and bellowed across the chaos: “MOVE!!! LEFT FLANK—ADVANCE!!!”

The earth rumbled as fifteen thousand soldiers charged.

But my stomach churned. Because everything pointed toward a trap.

Everything screamed: You’re being played.

And yet here I was… following orders from a child whose brain was smaller than a boiled pea.

“Tch,” I muttered, watching Rhen disappear into the dust. “Of all the kingdoms… all the armies… all the princes in the world… why did I get this one?”

The wind carried Kaelren’s voice behind me—proud, idiotic, triumphant:

“I WILL WIN THIS WAR AND BECOME THE BEST KING EVER!!!”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“Gods,” I murmured to myself, “please let the Elorians kill him before I have to listen to him another year.”