Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 361

Chapter 361: The Missing Captain
[Lavinia’s POV—Dawnspire Wing—Later]

The room smelled faintly of ink and old parchment.

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows in pale ribbons, catching dust motes that drifted lazily—mocking how violently the night had unraveled. I stood near the table, arms crossed, jaw tight, while Rey paced slowly, fingers flicking through the teacup.

“So,” I said at last, breaking the silence, my voice sharper than I intended, “what did you find out?”

Rey stopped. His expression shifted—no humor, no arrogance. Just gravity.

“The daughter of House Valencourt,” he said carefully, “died in a carriage accident.”

My breath stilled.

“A carriage accident?” I asked.

“Yes, that’s right,” he replied. “Her child was four years old when she finally succumbed. Fever. Internal injuries. Old wounds that never healed properly.”

My fingers curled against my sleeves.

“…Four,” I murmured.

Rey nodded. “Yes. And before you ask—yes, the coincidence is far too precise to ignore.”

I closed my eyes briefly. The image rose unbidden: a boy with blue eyes, standing too straight for his age, carrying grief he never spoke of.

“So,” I said quietly, “we can assume she was Haldor’s mother.”

“Well…” Rey tilted his head, ever the careful one, “…yes. All signs point that way.”

I turned toward him slowly. “All signs?”

“She married an Astreyon knight,” Rey continued. “A man stationed near the southern hills. Records are scarce—deliberately so—but the marriage is real. Verified by three separate registries.”

My chest tightened.

“And while they were returning,” he went on, voice low, “to visit the Valencourt family… the carriage rolled down a hill.”

Silence fell.

Not sudden. Not sharp.

The kind that sinks into your bones.

“…rolled down the hill, huh?” I said.

Rey’s mouth curved faintly. Not a smile. “That’s what the report says.”

I let out a long breath and leaned back against the table, staring at nothing.

“So this is Haldor,” I whispered. “This is his story.”

A stolen childhood. A buried lineage. A life cut and reshaped by lies.

“And that means,” I added slowly, my gaze hardening, “we can be sure that Luke is his father.”

Rey met my eyes. “We can say that with… reasonable certainty.”

“Reasonable isn’t enough,” I replied coldly.

He nodded immediately. “Which is why we still need confirmation.”

“Blood,” I said.

“Yes,” Rey replied. “Blood mixing. Old magic. Painfully honest.”

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Everything was converging too fast—too cruelly. Just as Haldor vanished. Just as the truth finally surfaced.

“If Luke is his father,” I said quietly, “then I want them reunited as soon as possible.”

Rey’s gaze softened. “Of course you do.”

Before he could say more—SLAM.

The sound exploded down the hallway.

Then—ROOOOLLLLL—something heavy tumbled, clattering against stone. I straightened instantly. Rey was already moving.

“I’ll check,” he said sharply, striding toward the door.

I nodded once.

Seconds stretched.

He returned, brows drawn together. “There’s no one.”

“No guards?” I asked.

“No servants. No footsteps fading. Nothing.”

I frowned. Then exhaled slowly. “Maybe it was Marshi… or Solena. They’ve been restless since last night. Probably playing again.”

Rey hesitated, then nodded. “Perhaps.”

But the air felt… wrong.

He turned back to me. “Should I begin preparing the blood-mixing ritual?”

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “Do it.”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “And Rey—be discreet. If Luke truly is his father, I don’t want this turning into a spectacle.”

He inclined his head solemnly. “Understood.”

I looked toward the window, toward the pale sky that had watched Haldor disappear.

“If Luke is his father,” I repeated softly, “then Haldor deserves the truth. He deserves his family. And he deserves it now—before this empire steals anything else from him.”

Rey’s voice was quiet when he answered. “I’ll make sure the truth finds him… wherever he is.”

I clenched my fists.

Wherever he is.

That was the part I couldn’t bear.

“Go,” I said. “Prepare everything.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

He left, robes whispering behind him. I remained standing alone in the Dawnspire Wing, staring at the door long after it closed—heart pounding, mind racing.

“Haldor,” I whispered into the quiet, “hold on just a little longer.”

Because the truth was finally chasing him, and I intended to reach him first.

***

[The Next Day—Lavinia’s Chamber]

“Do we have another council meeting today?” I asked, standing near the mirror as dawnlight spilled softly across the room.

Sera nodded while fastening the clasp of my cloak. “Yes, Your Highness. The nobles are already gathering. Early. Eager.”

I clicked my tongue. “Of course they are.” I lifted my arms so she could settle the fabric properly over my shoulders. “I really don’t want to deal with them today. After the last council, all they managed to do was irritate me.”

Sera chuckled softly, adjusting the fall of the cloak with practiced hands. “Well… they weren’t entirely wrong, Your Highness.”

That made me pause.

I turned my head slightly. “Meaning?”

She hesitated, then spoke carefully, like someone stepping onto thin ice. “You are the only one who can carry on the Devereux line.” She smiled gently. “Just like the… second princess.”

That stopped me cold.

“The second princess?” I repeated slowly.

Sera nodded, eyes lighting up with the thrill of discovery. “Yes. I found a book about her in the royal library last night. Hidden behind the older succession records.”

Her.

I turned fully now. “Go on.”

“She was the Emperor’s second child,” Sera continued. “Brilliant. Fierce. Refused marriage for years. Constantly fought the council. She led armies, governed provinces, and terrified the nobles half to death.” Sera tilted her head, studying me. “Honestly… she reminded me a lot of you.”

Silence crept in.

My reflection stared back at me—crownless, sleepless, carrying more weight than silk and jewels ever could.

“…How did her story end?” I asked quietly.

Sera’s expression dimmed. “She married to her Captain…” She shrugged. “The later records are strangely brief.”

I looked away.

Of course they are.

“Hm,” I murmured. “Now that you mention it… my life and hers sound uncomfortably similar, except I am not married yet.”

A ghost of a smile touched my lips—wry, humorless. “The empire does love repeating itself.”

Sera opened her mouth, then closed it again, sensing the shift. I straightened, smoothing my gloves.

“Forget it,” I said briskly. “History won’t save me from today’s council.”

She laughed softly. “That’s the spirit.”

I stepped toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

I opened it—

—and stopped short.

My brows furrowed instantly.

“Zerith?” I asked. “What are you doing here?”

Colonel Zerith stood just outside, armor polished, posture formal. He bowed immediately. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Where is Captain Haldor?” I asked, already uneasy.

Zerith straightened. “I was informed that Captain Haldor is on leave today. He requested that I take his place for your escort.”

My unease sharpened into something colder.

“Haldor did?” I repeated. “Since when does he take leave without informing me?”

Zerith hesitated—just a fraction too long. “I… apologize, Your Highness. I was not given the reason. Only the instruction.”

That was strange.

No—that was wrong.

Haldor never left without notice. Never delegated my protection casually. Never—I kept my expression calm, imperial, and unreadable. “I see.”

Zerith bowed again. “Shall we proceed to the council chamber, Your Highness?”

I studied him for a heartbeat longer, then nodded. “Yes. We’ll proceed.”

As we stepped into the corridor, the faint echo of our footsteps following us, a single thought coiled tight in my chest—

Where are you, Haldor?

And why did the palace suddenly feel too quiet without you?

As we stepped into the corridor, the faint echo of our footsteps followed us—too loud, too hollow. The palace felt… wrong. Like a body missing its heartbeat.

A single thought coiled tight in my chest.

Where are you, Haldor?

And why did the palace suddenly feel too quiet without you?

I slowed my steps.

“Zerith,” I called.

He turned at once. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“I want Captain Haldor in my office,” I said, my voice calm—too calm. “Now.”

He blinked. “R—Right now, Your Highness?”

“Yes,” I repeated, sharper this time. “Tell him I need him. Immediately.”

Zerith bowed. “At once, Your Highness.”

He turned and strode away, armor clinking softly as he disappeared down the intersecting hall.

I resumed walking, but my fingers curled inside my gloves. Haldor never took leave without reason. Never delegated my guard without informing me personally. Never vanished.

Never.

***

[Later—Lavinia’s Office]

The doors of my office came into view. I stepped inside, the familiar space greeting me with its polished desk, tall windows, and banners fluttering faintly in the morning air.

I didn’t sit.

Minutes passed.

Too many.

My gaze flicked to the door again.

Then—SLAM!!!

The office doors burst open.

I turned sharply.

Zerith stood there, chest rising fast, one hand braced against the doorframe as if he had run the entire way back. His face was pale beneath his armor—eyes wide, unsettled, afraid.

“Your Highness—”

My heart dropped.

“…Speak,” I commanded.

He swallowed hard.

“Captain Haldor is—” His voice faltered once. He forced it steady. “—missing.”

The word hit like a blade to the ribs.

“Missing?” I repeated softly.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Zerith continued, voice tight. “He never reported to the barracks last night. His quarters were found undisturbed. No signs of departure. No orders left behind.”

The room felt suddenly smaller.

Colder.

“How long?” I asked.

Zerith shook his head. “We don’t know. He was last seen after the night training yesterday.”

My vision sharpened, the world narrowing to a single, unbearable point, and I clenched my fist.

I feel so strange.