Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 341

Chapter 341: The Captain Who Would Not Sleep
[Osric’s POV—Imperial Palace of Meren]

“…We have checked every street, my lord. The people are still scared. No one dares step outside their homes,” Colonel Zerith reported, bowing slightly.

I nodded, fingers tightening behind my back. “Of course they are. Fear takes root faster than trust. No matter how cruel their prince was… they will hesitate to accept a new ruler.”

Zerith hesitated. “What should we do, my lord?”

I opened my mouth. The answer should have been simple. Tactical. Practical. But the words that left my lips were—

“Trust… is gained slowly. Not instantly. So—”

I stopped.

Mid-sentence.

As if someone punched the breath out of my lungs. The realization slammed into me so fast I forgot how to breathe.

“My lord?” Zerith stepped closer. “Are you alright?”

I forced myself to inhale—slow, strained.

“…Continue inspections,” I ordered quietly. “Every street, every alley. And assign knights for night duty. I want the city under control.”

“Yes, my lord.” Zerith bowed and left.

Leaving me alone. Alone with a truth I had been avoiding for months.

I moved toward the window slowly, almost unwillingly. Outside, beyond the pillars, I could faintly see her—the princess—my Lavi.

I leaned my forehead against the cool stone, closing my eyes.

“Is she not my Lavi anymore?” I whispered.

The words tasted like iron and loss. I swallowed hard. “Did I… not gain her trust?”

I had sworn myself to her. Protected her. Served her. Dedicating everything—my name, my house, my life—to her.

In both lives.

And in this life, I loved her. I chose her. I would have died for her. So why—why did her eyes not soften for me anymore? Why did she never look at me the way she used to look before—like I was the one she trusted to stand beside her without question?

My fists clenched.

“I did everything for her,” I muttered under my breath. “Everything.”

And then the echo of my own voice answered me with a cruel question:

Did you?

… Did you really?

I stiffened. Because deep, deep in the cracks of my chest—I knew the truth.

I protected her, but I never understood her.

I loved her, but I treated her like a duty, like a princess who needed guarding… not a girl who wanted to breathe.

I cared, but I never listened.

My breath trembled. My throat tightened.

“And… what else did I truly do for her?” I whispered.

The question gnawed into my ribs like a curse—slow, merciless, unrelenting.

What else? What else… besides chains disguised as love? Besides a promise she never asked for? Besides a future I assumed she wanted?

My jaw tightened.

“I… need to talk to my Lavi,” I whispered. “Patch everything before—”

“Haldor!!!” Her voice cracked across the hallway like a whip.

I froze. Slowly—too slowly—I turned toward the source. There she stood.

My Lavinia.

Arms crossed. Brows raised. A glare on her face—but not a glare meant to wound.

Not dominance. Not anger.

It was soft.Playful.Teasing.

And Haldor—Haldor, the silent, stoic statue of a man—was blushing.

BLUSHING.

A muscle in my cheek twitched violently. My fist curled so tight my knuckles turned white.

She never looked at me like that. Never stared at me with warmth. Never teased me. Never softened her voice for me.

But for him?

A mere captain—someone with no house, no name, no lineage—she moved an entire hierarchy. She changed the power structure of a conquered kingdom.

For him.

Not for me.

Not even once for me.

A bitter laugh tore through my throat. Low. Broken. Humorless.

“She moved an entire hierarchy for him,” I muttered, the words curdling into something sharp. “Even though she never did anything like that for me.”

Something ugly coiled in my chest.

Anger. But not at her—at myself.

At him.

At the truth I had choked down for months.

I tore my gaze away from them—before my expression betrayed too much—and turned into the corridor, my boots hitting the floor harder than necessary.

“There’s nothing to regret,” I muttered.

A lie.

A lie I needed to breathe.

“She is just the princess.”

And then I realized something uglier.

“That’s right, she moved an entire hierarchy for a mere captain—what will she do when she becomes an empress? Reshape nations? Bend laws? Break bloodlines?”

My heartbeat thudded, slow and heavy, in my ears.

“Is she… truly good for Eloria as the next empress?”

That thought—that single, poisonous thought—slithered into the back of my mind.

And stayed.

I inhaled sharply, straightening my spine, forcing discipline back into my posture.

No more weakness. No more longing. No more memories of what could’ve been. If she had chosen him, then she had also chosen to step away from me.

Very well.

If the Crown Princess would reshape kingdoms for a man like Haldor, then I needed to decide what I would reshape.

***

[Lavinia’s POV—Hallway Outside her Chamber]

My hands slammed onto my hips. My foot tapped. And my glare—sharp enough to slice a man—locked on the stubborn idiot in front of me.

“Haldor.”

He straightened like a soldier about to be executed. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“What,” I said slowly, dangerously, “did I tell you yesterday?”

His eyes darted away.

Then lower.

Then slightly to the left.

Anywhere but my face.

“I… don’t recall, Your Highness,” he muttered stiffly. “I am… uh… low on memory.”

I stared.

Blink.

Blink.

“…Low on memory?”

He nodded as if it was a medical condition recognized across the continent. “Indeed, princess. A grave ailment.”

I narrowed my eyes. He continued to avoid them—expression blank, face stiff, but his gaze kept sneaking upward in tiny, guilty glances.

Like a criminal. A very terrible, very obvious criminal.

“Haldor…”

“Yes, Your Highness?” His tone was painfully polite.

“YOU,” I pointed at his face, “ARE GOING TO YOUR CHAMBER.”

“…Princess—”

“AND. YOU. ARE. GOING. TO. SLEEP!!!!”

The hall echoed with my words. Marshi even flinched as he was licking his paw.

Haldor blinked once. Then twice.

“I apologize, Your Highness,” he said gravely, “but I cannot leave your side.”

“IT’S. MY. ORDER!”

He flinched—actually flinched—like my voice punched him straight in the soul. But he still shook his head.

“But who will protect you?” he whispered, as if it was the most logical question in the world. “How can I sleep when Grand Duke Osric has abandoned his oath… and no one else stands guard outside your chamber because we have few knights, and it will take two more days for the remaining knights to arrive from Eloria?”

I froze.

He didn’t say it with bitterness.

He didn’t say it with scorn.

He said it with fear.

For me.

And the worst part—he was right.

Osric had stepped back. And Haldor—Haldor had taken his place without being asked. Without complaint. Without sleep.

“You…” I exhaled, trying to control my voice, “have been guarding my door for TWO DAYS straight without sleep.”

He remained still.

Silent.

Stubborn.

I yelled so loudly the windows rattled. “HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY INSANE!?!?!?!?!?”

His eye twitched like he just lost 4% of his hearing. Then he had the audacity—the sheer boldness—to tilt his head and say, “I am not leaving you alone, Princess.”

. . .

. . .

Did I…did I gain a stubborn captain?

I dragged both hands down my face. “HALDOR.”

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“GO. TO. BED.”

“No.”

My mouth dropped open. “Did you—did you just say NO!?”

He swallowed but didn’t step back. “YES!”

“That’s NOT how this works!”

“But—”

“No buts!”

He opened his mouth again—

“HALDOR IF YOU SPEAK ONE MORE WORD, I SWEAR SOLENA WILL RIP YOUR HAIR OUT HERSELF—”

SKREEEEEE—!!

Solena screeched from the rafters like she personally felt threatened by my threat. Haldor actually flinched.

But he lifted his chin stubbornly. “I am still not leaving.”

I dragged a hand all the way down my face. “Of course you’re not. Why would life give me ONE compliant man?”

He stood there—stoic, immovable, carved from pure stubbornness and devotion. Like a walking fortress. A very sleep-deprived walking fortress.

Before I could continue arguing, a new voice echoed down the corridor.

“I will be her guard for today.”

We turned—and General Luke approached with calm, collected steps, hands behind his back, expression unreadable.

He stopped beside us and bowed slightly.

“Captain,” he said softly, almost too gently, “I will guard the Crown Princess for the entire day. Until then, you should rest—”

“NO.”

The sound cracked through the air like a blade.

Haldor stepped forward, eyes dark as obsidian. “I will not trust my Princess to an enemy general.”

I blinked. “He is our general now.”

Haldor looked at me—stubborn, offended, protective—and corrected: “Enemy ex-general.”

. . .

. . .

Then—”Pfft—!”

A laugh escaped me. Sharp. Sudden. Impossible to hold back.

Haldor blinked at me, as if he did not understand what on earth was funny.

“Your expression—” I snorted, wiping a tear, “—Haldor, you are absolutely hilarious when your face is that stiff.”

He didn’t react.

Not outwardly. But his ears turned the faintest shade of red.

I sighed and stepped closer.

“Look, Haldor…” My tone softened. “General Luke has a magic collar on his throat, remember? He literally cannot harm me.”

Luke touched his neck unconsciously.

I continued, “So please rest. I don’t want my captain to faint in front of me.”

His eyes softened—melting from hard steel into warm amber. I smirked slightly. “And I cannot lift you if you collapse. You’re… quite heavy.”

Haldor’s eyes widened—just slightly. Then a smile—small, shy, and painfully adorable—pulled at the corner of his mouth.

“…Then,” he murmured slowly, “I will do as you say, Princess.”

“Good.”

But before turning away, Haldor shot General Luke a glare so sharp it could’ve sliced through armor.

“If anything happens to the Princess…” His voice dropped to a lethal whisper, “…I will not leave you alive.”

Luke smiled, “Understood.”

“Alright, alright,” I said, nudging Haldor’s arm. “Go. Sleep.”

He bowed deeply. “Allow me to retire, Your Highness.”

I nodded, and he finally stepped away. And as he walked off, I caught myself smiling.

“I never knew he was this stubborn.”

A voice replied behind me. “That is not new.”

“Huh?” I turned.

General Luke straightened immediately. “Nothing, Your Highness.”

I squinted—suspicious. Very suspicious.

“General,” I said slowly, narrowing my eyes, “why do you keep looking at my captain like… he is your long-lost family?”

Luke froze.

Just a heartbeat. Just long enough for me to notice. He looked at me—and deliberately avoided answering.

Instead, he said calmly: “I heard tomorrow is Captain Haldor’s birthday.”

My eyes widened. “What? How do you know that?”

Luke simply bowed his head…But gave no answer. And the corridor suddenly felt far colder.

Far heavier.

Far more tangled with secrets.