Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 343

Chapter 343: The First Candle in the Dark
[Haldor’s POV—Midnight—Same Day]

When my eyes opened, I didn’t immediately realize what was wrong. Then the stillness hit me. The quiet. The darkness outside the window.

Midnight.

I jerked upright so fast the blanket fell off me.

I slept.

I SLEPT.

My breath stopped. My heart crashed against my ribs like a trapped beast. “I left her… alone.”

My hands trembled as I grabbed my shirt—half pulling it on, buttons misaligned, sleeves twisted. I didn’t care. Shame burned hotter than fever.

I grabbed my sword, fingers gripping the hilt too tightly—and threw open the door.

But the moment the door swung wide—”Ah—!”

I froze.

She froze.

The world froze.

Princess Lavinia… was standing right outside my room. Holding a small cake. A small… strawberry… cake. Her eyes blinked up at me as she instinctively stepped back.

“Wow…” she murmured softly, eyes widening, “I almost lost the cake to your open… muscle.”

I blinked.

Then looked down.

My shirt was half-open, barely hanging off my shoulders.

I yanked it closed, flustered. “Y-Your Highness… what—what are you doing—”

But she took a small step forward, lifting the little cake just slightly, and my voice died in my throat.

Then Sera burst from behind her, breathless. “Princess! You forgot the candles—oh.”

Her eyes landed on me—on my half-buttoned shirt—and she went silent. Behind her, Marshi waddled through the hallway with a proud little bounce, and Solena swooped above us, perching on the doorframe with a curious screech.

The princess smiled gently. And said the words that made my heartbeat stop completely.

“It’s midnight, Haldor.”

“Y…Yes, Your Highness, but why—”

She cut me off with a softness that pierced deeper than any blade.

“It’s your birthday,” she said. “Of course I would celebrate my captain’s birthday.”

The hallway went silent.

Absolutely silent. My fingers slipped from my shirt. My breath trembled. My grip on my sword loosened until it almost fell.

Birthday.

That’s right…. I had birthdays too. But she came here at midnight with a cake for me.

And suddenly, something inside my chest—something sealed, locked, and chained for years—cracked open.

“…My birthday,” I whispered, barely a breath.

She nodded with a small, proud smile, as if she were stating something obviously important.

“Haldor,” she said softly, “today is your day.”

My throat tightened.

No one had ever said those words to me. Not once. Not even when I was a child.

Birthdays, celebrations, warmth—those belonged to other people. Not to boys born on hillsides with no family name. Not to orphans who didn’t even get to bury their parents’ bodies. Not to soldiers who only existed to serve, obey, and survive.

But here she was.

Her.

The Crown Princess of Eloria. Standing outside my door with a strawberry cake… just because it was important to her.

Just because I mattered.

No—no, that couldn’t be true.

But her smile said otherwise.

“Come on,” she said softly. “At least blow the candles. Sera keeps lecturing me about sugar, so I can’t eat cake at night anymore.”

Sera gasped. “Princess!”

“Hush,” Princess said. “This is a special occasion.”

My chest constricted painfully.

I lowered my sword. Slowly.

Special occasion.

For me.

My breath hitched. My chest tightened so sharply it hurt. I felt my hands tremble—really tremble—for the first time since I was a child.

Sera stepped forward, lighting the candles with quick, practiced motions. “Let’s go inside. Marshi and Solena are already drooling.”

On cue, Marshi thumped his tail against the floor, and Solena screeched hungrily from atop Sera.

Princess turned to me, her smile small and soft—dangerously soft.

“Shall we go inside?” she asked.

Just a simple question. Just a gentle smile. Just a small strawberry cake in her hands.

And I—I couldn’t hold myself together anymore. I couldn’t pretend to be calm. I couldn’t pretend to be composed. I couldn’t pretend that this wasn’t ripping open something buried deep inside me.

No one had ever done this for me.

Not once.

Not ever.

Birthday? Celebration? Warmth? A cake with my name on it?

But she—she came. She knows. She cared. My grip on my sword slackened. And the weapon slipped from my fingers—

THUD!!

It hit the ground hard, echoing down the silent hallway. Before I even realized what I was doing—I stepped forward—And pulled her into my arms.

Lifted her straight off the ground.

Held her.

Held her like she was the only thing anchoring me to this world. Her breath caught. Sera yelped, “THE CAKE—!!” and somehow saved it at the last possible second.

But I didn’t let go.

For the first time in my life, I let myself be selfish.

My arms wrapped around her tightly—too tightly—but I couldn’t loosen my grip. I buried my face near her neck, shuddering as something warm and unbearable surged up my spine.

Why did this feel like coming home?

“…Haldor?” She whispered softly, startled.

I squeezed her tighter.

I didn’t trust my voice. I didn’t trust the emotion clawing its way out of my chest. I didn’t trust myself not to fall apart right there.

But then—Her arms lifted.

Slowly.

Then wrapped around me. She hugged me back. Her hand slid to my back—gently, tenderly, in a soothing rhythm—and she whispered against my ear:

“Happy birthday, Haldor.”

The world cracked open.

My breath broke. My eyes burned. My chest shook once—violently—like a dam collapsing.

Happy birthday. No one had ever said those words to me. No one. Her voice—her warmth—her arms around me—I swallowed hard, choking on the wave of emotion that threatened to drown me.

“Your Highness…” my voice came out rough, trembling, unsteady—”Thank you.”

Thank you for this moment. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for giving me something I never had.

A birthday.

A celebration.

A reason to believe I was more than a weapon.

I lowered her slowly back onto the floor, but my hands remained on her waist a moment longer than necessary. I couldn’t pull away. Not yet.

She looked up at me with those bright, gentle eyes—eyes that always burned straight through my armor.

And for the first time in my life…I let myself feel it.

All of it.

Her hands were still on my back when I set her down gently.

Too gently.

I was terrified she’d vanish if I let go too fast. Her warmth lingered against my chest. Her perfume—a faint note of something sweet, fresh, and alive—wrapped around me like a spell.

She smiled up at me, soft and bright.

And then—SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!

A feathered missile slammed directly into my face.

“—GAH—!!”

Solena clung to my forehead like a furious, vengeful hair accessory, beating her wings against my skull.

“SOLENA!!!” Princess shouted. “STOP ATTACKING OUR CAPTAIN—!!”

The demon bird shrieked louder, pecking my head with righteous fury.

Sera sighed. “Princess, she’s angry because Captain Haldor got emotional again.”

“I WAS NOT—!!” I protested, trying to pry the bird off my face.

Solena screeched even louder—in what I swear was judgement—and smacked me again with her wing.

“Apparently, you were,” Princess said, hands on her hips, looking far too amused for someone whose bird was trying to scalp me.

Finally—FINALLY—Solena hopped back onto Princess’s shoulder, feathers puffed in victorious disdain.

Marshi padded over and head-butted my leg sympathetically.

“…Thank you, Marshi,” I muttered, rubbing the place where Solena had nearly removed my forehead.

Princess giggled—the sound soft, musical, and bright.

“You deserved it a little,” she teased. “You nearly crushed me like a pillow.”

I embarrassedly opened my mouth to apologize again, but something tightened in my chest.

Not from her.

From behind her.

My eyes flicked past her shoulder—and froze.

At the far end of the dim hallway… A figure stood partly hidden in shadow.

General Luke.

His posture was composed.

His expression was unreadable.

Except for one thing—pain. Raw, deep, echoing pain. His eyes were fixed on me. On us. Like he was watching something impossibly precious slipping further and further from his grasp.

His lips parted slightly.

And for a heartbeat—just a single heartbeat—I saw it clearly.

Recognition.

Not the vague kind from earlier. No—this was deeper.

Older.

Like a man seeing a ghost he lost long, long ago.

A ghost he wasn’t ready to meet again. I swallowed hard. My fingers curled unconsciously.

Luke didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Barely breathed.

Just stared.

I straightened subtly, instincts screaming in warning. Something was wrong with that man. Something was tied between him and me—something buried so deep even I didn’t know it existed.

But he…

“Haldor? Is something wrong?” Princess asked.

I blinked and forced my eyes back to her, softening my expression instantly.

“No, Princess,” I murmured. “Nothing is wrong.”

But when I glanced back toward the hallway, the space where Luke had stood was empty.

Gone.

Without a sound.

As if he had never been there at all.

A cold prickle ran down my spine.

Why do you look at me like that… General? What do you know about me? And why… Why does your gaze feel like it’s reaching into the past I cannot remember?

And then…

“Haldor, come inside; you need to make a wish.”

I walked inside. “Yes, your highness.”