Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 363

Chapter 363: Between Vanishing and Return
[Lavinia’s POV—The Next Morning—Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chambers]

“…Did he arrive?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it.

Zerith stood near the door, helmet tucked beneath his arm, posture straight but eyes tense. He shook his head once.

“No, Your Highness. We have received no report of Captain Haldor’s return.”

Silence fell.

Not the fragile kind. The heavy, deliberate kind. I tapped the armrest of my chair once. Then again. A steady rhythm—control, not impatience.

“Call Re—”

“Your Highness.”

The voice cut through the room like a blade through silk.

I looked up.

General Luke stood at the entrance.

He had not announced himself. He had not bowed immediately. His uniform was immaculate, but his face—his face betrayed him. The sharp composure I had come to expect was fractured, eyes dark with something dangerously close to panic.

“I request permission,” he said carefully, “to speak with you.”

I studied him for a long moment.

Then I exhaled slowly. “Zerith,” I said without looking away from Luke, “leave us.”

Zerith hesitated—only for a heartbeat—then bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The door closed behind him.

Luke stepped inside. The moment the latch clicked shut, the general disappeared. Not the rank. Not the title. Just a man standing too stiff, breathing too carefully, holding himself together by will alone.

“Where is Haldor?” he asked.

Not Captain Haldor. Not your soldier.

Just—Haldor.

So. He knows.

I gestured to the chair opposite me. “Take a seat, General.”

“I can’t,” he said immediately.

His fists clenched at his sides.

“My son is missing,” he said hoarsely. “How do you expect me to sit and do nothing?”

I leaned back slightly, fingers folding together, gaze cool but not unkind.

“You are still not certain he is your son,” I reminded him calmly.

Luke flinched.

His jaw tightened, knuckles whitening. “No,” he admitted. “I am not certain.”

Then, quieter—almost breaking—”But I cannot stop worrying.”

There it was. The fear he had swallowed for decades was finally clawing its way to the surface.

I stood.

Not abruptly. Not dramatically. With purpose.

“I will find him,” I said.

Luke looked at me sharply.

“He is my captain,” I continued, each word measured, grounded, and undeniable. “And I bear responsibility for him—officially, legally, and personally.”

I stepped closer, stopping just short of him.

“That responsibility,” I said coolly, “is greater than yours.”

His breath caught. Not because he disagreed—but because he knew I was right.

“You may be his father by blood,” I went on, voice steady, unyielding, “but I am his sovereign. His commander. And the one who sent him into a world that has now shaken him apart.”

Silence pressed in around us.

Luke’s shoulders sagged—just slightly.

“…Then you understand,” he said quietly. “What it is to fear losing him.”

I met his gaze.

“I understand,” I replied. “And unlike you, General, I do not intend to wait helplessly.”

I turned away, already reaching for the table where reports lay scattered like fallen feathers.

“He will be found,” I said, final and absolute. “I do not lose what is mine.”

Luke swallowed hard.

“I only ask one thing,” he said after a moment.

I paused but did not turn.

“Find him alive,” he said. “Even if he hates me when you do.”

My fingers tightened briefly.

“He won’t,” I said without hesitation. “Not for the truth.”

I finally looked back at him.

“And when I bring my captain home,” I added softly, dangerously, “we will deal with blood and names and guilt later.”

Luke bowed.

Not as a general.

But as a father who had waited too long.

“I will trust you, Your Highness,” he said. “With my son.”

I inclined my head once.

“You have no choice.”

The door opened again as I dismissed him, and Luke left—straighter than he had entered, but no less afraid.

When I was alone once more, the silence returned. I stared at the window, at the pale morning light creeping over the palace.

“Hold on,” I whispered. “I’m coming.”

Because whether he was lost by blood, by fear, or by truth—I would not allow the world to take Haldor from me.

***

[Later—Outside the Imperial Palace]

The palace gates loomed behind us—tall, gilded, and utterly indifferent.

I drew the black cloak tighter around my shoulders, the hood shadowing my face until even the guards stationed at the gates would not recognize their crown princess slipping past them like a ghost.

Beside me, Rey adjusted his own cloak with casual ease, though his eyes were sharp—already scanning the streets beyond the palace walls. Sera stood on my other side, quieter than usual, her hand resting near the dagger hidden beneath the folds of her cloak.

The city was waking.

Merchants raising shutters. Hooves striking stone. Smoke curling from chimneys like half-formed prayers.

“I sent my men out at first light,” Rey said as we descended the palace steps. His tone was light, but I knew him well enough to hear the tension beneath it. “I figured you wouldn’t appreciate waiting.”

I didn’t look at him. “You figured correctly.”

He exhaled a faint chuckle. “They found him.”

That made me stop.

My head snapped toward him. “Where?”

“In the city,” he replied. “Not the barracks. Not the roads leading out. He hasn’t fled Eloria.”

A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding slipped free.

“At a small house,” Rey continued. “Tucked away near the old quarter. Quiet. Forgotten.”

“A house?” I repeated.

He nodded. “Yes. Before he became an imperial captain—before the armor, before the title—that was where he lived.”

My chest tightened.

Of course.

A place untouched by rank. By expectation. By me.

I stepped toward my horse without another word, fingers closing around the reins. As I swung into the saddle, the familiar weight steadied me—steel, leather, purpose.

“All right,” I said, settling in, my voice low and decisive. “Then we’re done waiting.”

Rey mounted beside me with a smooth motion, amusement flickering briefly across his face. “Going yourself, Princess? That’s dangerous.”

I glanced at him from beneath the hood. “So is losing my captain.”

Sera mounted last, eyes fierce beneath the shadow of her hood. “We’ll bring him back,” she said quietly. Not a question. A promise.

I tightened my grip on the reins.

“Yes,” I replied. “We will.”

With a single gesture, I urged my horse forward.

The palace faded behind us—gold giving way to stone, power giving way to truth—as we rode into the city.

Into the quiet streets. Into the place where my captain was waiting—whether he knew it or not.

***

[Eloria City—Later]

The moment we reached the edge of the bustling market, I swung down from my horse.

The city was alive in a way the palace never was—vendors shouting prices, children darting between carts, spices thick in the air, and the sound of life pressing in from every direction.

I pulled my hood lower and turned to Rey. “Are you sure this is the place?”

He nodded, scanning the street with calm certainty. “Yes. Same layout. Same district. My men confirmed it.”

Sera had already drifted a step away, eyes wide as she breathed in deeply. “Wow… this place smells amazing. Fried dough, roasted meat—oh, and is that honeyed bread?”

Rey smiled instantly, soft and indulgent. “Should I buy something for you, darling?”

She brightened. “Yes! Let’s buy some—”

I shot them a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

Both of them froze.

“I am not,” I said slowly, dangerously, “letting either of you flirt, snack, or fall deeper into whatever this is—” I gestured between them, “—until I find Haldor.”

Sera swallowed. Rey cleared his throat.

“Understood,” Rey said quickly.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Sera added, far too obedient.

Satisfied, I stepped forward into the crowd, senses sharpened, heart pounding just beneath my ribs.

And then—

“I would like six eggs, please.”

The voice hit me like a blow.

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Familiar.

Too familiar.

I stopped mid-step.

Slowly—very slowly—I turned.

There he was.

Haldor.

Standing at a small wooden stall, sleeves rolled up, cloak gone, hair slightly disheveled by the morning breeze. No armor. No sword. No insignia. Just a man in plain clothes, holding a small pouch of coins while speaking politely to an old merchant.

Buying eggs.

Like the world hadn’t shattered overnight. Like he hadn’t vanished and taken my breath with him.

My chest tightened painfully.

Rey went still beside me. Sera sucked in a sharp breath.

“Haldor…” I whispered before I could stop myself.

He turned.

And when his eyes met mine—everything else disappeared. The noise of the market dulled. The crowd blurred. The city fell away.

For a heartbeat, he just stared at me—eyes wide, expression unreadable, as if he couldn’t decide whether I was real or a trick of his exhausted mind.

Then recognition struck.

Shock.

Relief.

Something raw and unfinished.

“Your…highness? What…what are you doing here?” He said softly, disbelief threading through the words.

I clenched my fist, my brow furrowing with anger, and asked, “I…should be the one asking you that question, Haldor. What the hell are you doing here?”