Too Lazy to be a Villainess - Chapter 380

Chapter 380: The Man Who Dared to Reach for the Crown
[Haldor’s POV—Ceremonial Hall—Imperial palace]

I had faced death without fear with the princess.

I had stood at the front lines with blood in my mouth and steel lodged in my armor. I had given orders while men screamed and kingdoms burned. I had walked through rain soaked in iron and smoke, heart steady, mind clear.

But nothing—nothing in all my battles—had prepared me for this.

I stood at the altar, hands clasped behind my back, posture rigid enough to pass inspection. The ceremonial black of the Imperial Knights sat heavy on my shoulders, silver insignia gleaming against my chest. Every breath felt measured. Every heartbeat thundered like a war drum.

I was about to marry the Crown Princess.

No—I was about to marry Lavinia.

The empire watched.

I could feel their gazes like blades pressed against my spine. Nobles whispering behind painted fans. Priests standing solemn, eyes sharp. Generals measuring my worth with the cold calculus of war.

And above all of them—Him.

Emperor Cassius Devereux.

Her father.

The tyrant.

The man who could end me with a glance if he so wished, also her grandfather, and her both elf brothers, who keep shooting daggers at me.

I swallowed.

My palms were damp. Gods, my palms were damp.

‘Get yourself together,’ I ordered silently. ‘You have faced worse.’

But had I?

To face an enemy was simple. To face a battlefield was honest. To live a life alone…you somehow manage it.

But this—this was different.

I was not standing here as a captain, or a knight, or a weapon. I was standing here as a man daring to reach for the crown—daring to take the one thing the emperor loved more than his empire.

My chest tightened at the thought.

Then the bells rang.

Slow. Deep. Resonant. The doors at the far end of the hall opened.

And the world ended.

She walked in on her father’s arm, and every sound faded into nothing.

Gold hair like captured sunlight. Crimson eyes steady and calm, burning with a quiet authority that made even the noblest lords lower their gaze. Silk and jewels moved with her as if they belonged to her alone—as if she had been born to command them.

She didn’t look like a princess.

She looked like destiny.

My breath caught painfully in my throat.

‘That’s my wife,’ my mind whispered in disbelief. ‘That’s my future.’

Her gaze lifted—and found me.

And in that instant, the noise vanished entirely.

No empire. No throne. No tyrant watching with murderous intensity. Only her.

Lavi.

She smiled.

Small. Private. Just for me.

My heart stuttered. I straightened unconsciously, shoulders squaring, spine locking into place. If I were to stand beside her, then I would do so without trembling—even if my soul shook to its core.

As she drew closer, I felt it fully then.

The weight of the vow. The magnitude of the trust. The sheer madness of loving someone who could ruin me and save me in the same breath.

‘I am marrying the crown,’ I thought. ‘And I would protect it with my everything.’

The distance between us vanished too quickly.

One step.Then another.

The sound of silk against marble echoed louder than my own heartbeat. She was close enough now that I could see the faint shimmer of gold dust in her hair and the steady calm in her crimson eyes. She looked unafraid.

I was not.

Because I felt it then.

The glare.

Cold. Heavy. Lethal. Emperor Cassius Devereux’s crimson gaze was fixed on me like a drawn blade. Not anger alone—no. Possession. Warning. A reminder carved into flesh and bone.

‘She is my child,’ that stare said. ‘Do not forget whose daughter you are touching.’

My spine stiffened instinctively.

I stopped.

The hall seemed to sense it—breath held, whispers dying mid-thought. Even the priests faltered. I turned, slowly and deliberately, and faced the emperor. Every lesson drilled into me screamed caution. Every instinct as a knight demanded respect.

So I bowed.

Low. Proper. Unyielding.

“With your permission,” I said, voice steady despite the storm in my chest, “may I hold her hand, Your Majesty?”

Silence.

The kind that crushed.

I did not lift my head. I waited—knight before emperor, man before father. I could feel his gaze burning through me, measuring, weighing, and deciding whether I was worthy of even this small touch.

Then—A breath.

Heavy. Controlled.

“Touch her,” Emperor Cassius said at last, voice calm enough to be terrifying, “and remember this moment for the rest of your life.”

I swallowed.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Only then did I turn back to her.

She was watching me—not worried, not shaken—only soft. As if she had known I would ask. As if she trusted me to do it right.

I extended my hand.

Not hurried.Not possessive.Open.

She placed her fingers in mine.

Warm.

Perfect.

The instant our hands met, something settled inside me—like a vow spoken without words. I tightened my grip just enough to promise support, not ownership.

She stepped closer, and together we turned toward the aisle. I felt the emperor’s gaze on my back as we began to walk.

I welcomed it.

Because every step I took beside her was an oath.

I will not fail you.I will not lose you.I will protect what the tyrant loves most—even from myself.

And as the empire watched us move forward, hand in hand, I understood something with absolute clarity—This was not just a normal wedding.

It was a wedding of the next empress and a precious daughter of a tyrant.

The hall fell silent.

Not the quiet of obedience—but the silence of reverence.

The High Chancellor stepped forward, staff striking the marble once. The sound echoed through the imperial cathedral, deep and final.

“Let the Imperial Vow begin.”

I tightened my hold on Lavinia’s hand—not to claim her, but to anchor myself. Her fingers curled around mine in quiet reassurance. Warm. Steady.

The Chancellor’s voice carried, ancient and unyielding.

“An imperial marriage is not sworn before gods alone, nor before the people. It is sworn before blood, crown, and empire.”

I swallowed.

This was no ordinary vow.

“Haldor Valethorn, You who marry the Crown Princess,” the Chancellor intoned, “do you swear loyalty not as a subject, not as a shield, but as a man who would never raise a blade against the throne she inherits, nor allow another to do so while you yet draw breath?”

“I vow it.”

A pause.

Then the words that mattered most.

“Do you accept that loving the Crown means standing alone when the world turns hostile? That you may be hated, questioned, or sacrificed—without resentment and take her as your wife?”

My chest burned.

“I do… I accept it.”

The Chancellor turned to Lavinia.

“Crown princess, Lavinia Devereux,

You who carry the blood of Devereux,” the Chancellor said, bowing slightly, “do you swear to take this man not as your subject—but as your equal before fate?”

“I do,” she said, voice clear.

“Do you take Haldor Valethorn as your husband?”

Her hands brushed mine. “I…do.”

A collective breath was released across the hall.

“Then,” the Chancellor continued, visibly relieved, “please exchange the rings.”

My hands trembled as I slid the ring onto her finger—gold meeting skin, promise meeting eternity. She returned the gesture, fitting the band onto my hand as if it had always belonged there.

The Chancellor lifted his staff, voice rising with ceremonial finality.

“You may now kiss the each other—”

“NO. HE CANNOT.”

The words cracked through the hall like thunder.

I froze.

Every soul present froze.

Emperor Cassius Devereux stood, crimson eyes blazing, his glare slicing straight through the Chancellor.

The poor man nearly dropped his staff. “B-But, Your Majesty,” he stammered, “the kiss is the mark of marriage—”

“They do not need it,” the emperor said coldly. “Exchanging rings is enough. No kiss is allowed, Not in front of me.”

Silence.

Absolute. Terrifying. Silence.

I swallowed.

Then—She sighed, a long, very unimpressed sigh, muttering, “I knew he would do this.”

Before I could react, Lavinia grabbed my collar, yanked me down—and kissed me.

Not hesitant.Not shy.Certain. Decisive. Warm.

For a heartbeat, the empire ceased to exist.

She pulled back just enough to smirk up at me, crimson eyes gleaming with mischief and triumph.

“There,” she said calmly. “We’re married.”

The emperor stared.

Actually—started yelling, “You…it was my fault to raise you to be brave and bold.”

She smiled. “Nope, that’s my nature papa.”

Emperor groaned and my father released a long, defeated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose and mumbling, “I can’t believe I became a father-in-law as soon as I found my son.”

Her grandfather looked as though the world had ended. “My precious…how did a man steal you in infornt of us?”

Her brothers gasped in perfect, synchronized horror, saying, “she…she knows how to kiss?”

Ravick smirked, “she’s has grown up.”

Theon and Teacher Eveline exchanged knowing smiles. Rey leaned in to whisper something to Sera, who covered her mouth, laughing softly.

And Nanny—Nanny wiped tears from her eyes, smiling as if this was exactly how it was always meant to be. “There…I never thought I would still be alive to see her wedding.”

As for me?

I stood there, stunned, heart racing, lips still warm—married.

And just like that—I, Haldor Valethorn, became the husband of Crown Princess Lavinia Devereux…and the Crown Prince of the elorian empire.