Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 375

Chapter 375: A Night Before the Announcement
[Lavinia’s POV — Imperial Palace]

“I need you to keep an eye on Count Talvan,” I said calmly, fingers resting against the arm of my chair. “And the nobles clustered around him. Especially him.”

Rey inclined his head, already thoughtful, already ten steps ahead. Haldor sat beside me—close enough that I could feel the warmth of his shoulder, solid and reassuring.

“I can do that myself if you wish, Your Highness,” Haldor offered at once, earnest as ever.

Rey and I turned to him in perfect unison.

“Haldor,” I said gently but firmly, “tomorrow is the announcement. You won’t have the luxury of watching shadows.”

He blinked. Once. “I… won’t?”

“You’ll be standing beside me as Crown Prince, not as Captain,” I continued, meeting his eyes. “You’ll be surrounded by envoys, nobles, council members—”

“And,” I added, a faint smile curving my lips, “you’ll be facing my grandfather. And my brothers.”

His spine straightened instinctively. “Are… they dangerous?”

Rey snorted before I could answer. “Dangerous? No. Exhausting? Absolutely.” He grinned wickedly. “They’re elves. Which means they’re impossibly possessive, painfully dramatic, and will glare at you like you’re a suspicious curse who wandered too close to their precious princess.”

Haldor swallowed.

“I see.”

Rey clapped him on the shoulder. “Good luck, Captain.”

I laughed softly and patted Haldor’s hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You survived, Papa,” I said lightly. “You’ll survive them too.”

Color rushed to his cheeks at the contact. He glanced down at our joined hands, then back at me, nodding with quiet resolve. “Yes, Your Highness.”

My smile softened—just a little—before I turned back to Rey.

“I want names,” I said. “Every noble aligned with Talvan. Who attends his gatherings. Who benefits from his favor. I want to know who will panic first when things don’t go his way.”

Rey nodded, expression sharpening. “Understood. If you allow it, I’ll position members of my magic tower around the palace. Discreetly.”

“I don’t mind,” I replied. “Just make sure tomorrow doesn’t become… memorable for the wrong reasons. I want no disruptions. No theatrics.”

Rey’s gaze drifted, briefly, to the pendant resting at my throat—the one my grandfather Thalein had given me. His eyes darkened with thought.

“I have a feeling,” he murmured, “it may prove useful sooner than we expect.”

I didn’t respond because I felt it too.

The air was too still. The night was too watchful. Power coiled beneath the palace stones, restless and hungry. Tomorrow, the empire would witness history.

And someone—perhaps several someones—was already sharpening their knives.

I laced my fingers more tightly with Haldor’s. Whatever came next—We would face it together.

***

[Haldor’s POV—Later—Outside the Dawnspire Wing]

“I shall take my leave now, Your Highness,” I said, bowing properly.

She stretched like a lazy cat, arms lifting above her head without a care for decorum. “Good night, Haldor.”

A faint smile touched my lips. Only her. Only Lavinia could look like that on the eve of a political storm—and still command an empire.

“Good night, Your Highness,” I replied.

I turned and walked down the corridor, boots echoing softly against the marble as I exited the Dawnspire Wing. The doors closed behind me, and the warmth of her presence faded.

The night air greeted me cold and sharp.

That was when I felt it. A shift. A disturbance too subtle for ordinary guards. My steps slowed. My expression emptied—no warmth, no softness. The captain returned. The soldier.

“Did you find something?” I asked calmly, without turning.

The shadow behind me peeled itself from the darkness.

He moved silently, like a breath slipping between heartbeats, and knelt with his head lowered. The man I had placed in the deepest layers of the city—far from palace eyes. Far from trust.

“Yes, Your Highness.”

I turned then, moonlight catching the edge of my gaze. “Report.”

“We observed irregular movements from Lady Sirella Talvan,” he said. “Unscheduled. Unescorted.”

My jaw tightened slightly. “Irregular how?”

“She has been meeting nobles outside official records,” he continued. “Not at estates. Not in salons.”

A pause.

“At the auction house.”

The word landed heavy.

“An auction house,” I repeated quietly.

“Yes. The old one near the river district. Closed to the public at night. She met with three nobles and two unidentified merchants.”

Merchants?

I exhaled slowly through my nose. That narrowed things.

“What kind of merchants?” I asked.

The shadow hesitated. “They did not register under guild names. No trade seals. No origin papers.”

Foreign, then. Or worse—untraceable.

“And the nobles?”

“Names are being confirmed,” he said. “But they entered separately and left separately. No witnesses. No guards.”

I looked up at the night sky, stars sharp and distant. This wasn’t greed. This was coordination.

“Continue surveillance,” I ordered. “Every step. Every whisper. I want times, faces, routes—nothing escapes you.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And if they move again?” I added, my voice dropping a degree colder.

The shadow bowed deeper. “We follow. Even into hell.”

Good. I turned away, cloak shifting with the motion.

“Do not intervene,” I said. “Not yet. Let them believe they are unseen.”

A brief pause. Then, quieter—deadlier—”But if they move against the Crown Princess…”

The shadow didn’t need the rest of the sentence.

“…They won’t live long enough to regret it,” he finished.

I nodded once.

“Go.”

The darkness swallowed him whole.

Alone again, I stood beneath the cold night sky, the softness Lavinia brought to my heart carefully locked away. Duty settled back into my bones like armor. Tomorrow, I would stand beside her as Crown Prince. Tonight—I would make sure there was still an empire left to inherit.

I turned and walked toward my quarters, the corridors quiet at this hour, torches burning low. When I entered, the room greeted me with stillness—familiar, grounding.

My gaze drifted to the small table near the window.

I slowed.

My fingers brushed the polished surface, lingering there as a faint smile curved my lips. “Will she like it?” I murmured, the question meant only for the silence.

I opened the box.

Inside lay a multilayered bracelet—fine chains woven together, crimson and deep blue stones set carefully into the design. Fire and steel. Blood and sky. Colors that mirrored her eyes… and mine.

A promise disguised as an ornament.

“I hope you do,” I whispered.

“Are you floating somewhere above cloud nine, son?”

I looked up.

Father stood in the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame with that familiar, unreadable expression that never quite hid his concern. The moonlight caught in his hair, silvering it further than I remembered.

I closed the box gently. “Yes,” I admitted. “I am.”

He stepped inside, brow furrowing. “That happy?” His eyes flicked briefly to the box. “Let me guess. Because the Emperor and I finally agreed to your marriage?”

“That too,” I said. Then, quieter—but firmer—”But not only that.”

He paused.

I met his gaze. “I’m happy because I found you.”

The words seemed to strike deeper than any blade. He blinked once. Then twice. For a moment, the general—feared across borders—looked almost… flustered. Then his chin lifted, nose tipping upward in unmistakable pride.

“Well,” he said gruffly, “of course you are. I am special.”

I couldn’t help it. I chuckled.

He scoffed, but there was warmth in it. He crossed the room and placed both hands on my shoulders, his grip steady and grounding. The weight of it carried years I’d never had—but somehow still felt.

“Listen to me, son,” he said, voice lowering. “Marriage isn’t a battlefield you can win with strength alone.”

I straightened slightly. “I know.”

“No,” he corrected gently. “You think you know.”

His hands tightened just a fraction. “From the moment you stand beside her, your life will no longer belong only to you. Your choices, your risks, your silences—they will affect her. Every step you take will echo in her shadow.”

I swallowed.

“She carries an empire,” he continued. “And you will carry her.”

I met his eyes, steady. “I will protect her.”

A faint smile touched his lips—proud, restrained. “Good. But remember this too—she will protect you just as fiercely. Do not mistake her strength for invulnerability.”

“I won’t,” I said without hesitation.

He studied me for a long moment, as if weighing the man I had become against the boy he lost and found again.

Then he nodded.

“You’ve grown into someone worthy of standing beside a tyrant crown princess,” he said dryly. “And that,” he added, squeezing my shoulder once, “is no small achievement.”

After he left, the room felt warmer.

I reopened the box and looked at the bracelet once more.

Tomorrow, I will give it to her. Not as a crown prince. Not as a soldier. But as a man who had finally found his place—At her side.

And just like that—Morning came.

The world moved forward whether I was ready or not. The doors to my chamber opened without ceremony.

“Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”

A group of men stepped inside, dressed in ceremonial black and gold, smiles stretched just a little too wide—greedy, eager, already imagining the power they would brush against today.

“It’s time,” one of them said smoothly. “Time for you to be prepared.”

I rose slowly, spine straight, expression settling into calm steel.

Yes.

It was time.

And by nightfall, nothing in this empire would be the same again.