Too Lazy to be a Villainess
Chapter 137: Thorns Around a Throne

Chapter 137: Thorns Around a Throne

[Osric’s POV]

[Everheart Estate]

"Did the messengers arrive?" My voice cut through the silence as I fastened the last strap of my cloak.

Hadrien appeared at my side with a bow. "No, my lord. The investigator hasn’t sent word yet."

I paused, fingers resting on the polished silver clasp.

"...Hmm. It’s taking too long."

Hadrien’s sigh was long-suffering—the kind of sound someone makes when they’re used to your impossible standards but still holding onto the hope you might grow patience like a garden herb.

"My lord... You only gave him two days."

I turned, raising a brow. "And?"

Hadrien folded his hands in front of him. "You tasked him with reviewing every attack on the Crown Princess. Every security breach. Every suspicious death, accident, or vanishing maid since she was born. That’s nearly two decades of sealed records, half of which are probably hidden under noble bribes and bureaucratic cobwebs. It takes time."

"Tch," I muttered, adjusting my gloves. "Looks like I found another useless investigator."

"My lord..."

"Find someone else."

"My lord," he said, a bit more urgently this time. "At least give him ten days."

I paused. Turned.

He was staring at me like I’d just threatened to burn down the royal archives with a single candle. There was pleading in his expression.

Genuine, quiet pleading.

I exhaled slowly. "...Alright. Ten days."

Relief flooded his face. "Thank you, my lord."

"But if he doesn’t bring me answers," I warned, slipping my sword into its sheath, "I’ll personally drag him through the Everheart mines until he finds them. And make him read every page aloud."

"Understood," Hadrien said, trying very hard not to smile.

I stepped past him, heading toward the corridor. My boots clicked softly against the polished stone.

Since the nightmares began... there were two faces that kept returning in blood and shadow.

Marquess Everett. And Caelum.

Always lurking. Always watching. Always standing too close to Princess Lavinia. If these dreams truly were prophecy—as I feared—then every past attack on the princess might be more than coincidence.

And if I’m right...

If the patterns align...

Then Marquess Everett isn’t just dangerous.

He’s treasonous.

And Caelum?

That snake is already coiled too close to the throne.

Too close to her.

Always lurking around her. Always smiling that rehearsed, empty smile beside the princess. Always speaking with the kind of polished charm that masks a blade.

I’ve seen men like him. They don’t swing swords.

They poison wells.

And yet... there’s something even more unsettling than his presence.

Something I haven’t said out loud.

The Emperor knows.

I can feel it. His majesty... Emperor Cassius Devereux may be many things—unforgiving, merciless, terrifying on a bad day—but he is not blind.

So why?

Why allow Caelum to remain by Princess Lavinia’s side?

Why allow him to duel with her every single day?

Why give permission for a confrontation that could’ve gone very, very wrong?

The more I think about it, the more it knots in my chest like a tangled noose. One I can’t unravel.

"Sigh... everything feels messier than it should be," I mumbled under my breath.

As I passed through the marble corridor toward the exit hall, familiar voices drifted toward me.

Loud ones.

"GODS—THAT IDIOT! HE’S BANNED EVERY ROMANTIC CANDIDATE FROM THE IMPERIAL PALACE!"

That was Father. Shouting, again.

I turned the corner to find him waving a rolled-up document like a battle flag. Across from him, Grandfather Gregor sat calmly in the courtyard gazebo, sipping tea with all the serenity of a man watching a staged opera.

"He’s just protecting his child, and he didn’t ban Theon and Lady Evelyn," Grandpa Gregor said without looking up, his tone as dry as the winter vineyards.

"But he made sure...she interacts with them less. If this continues," Father huffed, collapsing into a chair beside him, "the princess is going to stay single until she’s seventy."

"Hahaha..." Grandfather chuckled. "I never imagined him turning into that kind of father. But... he was always unpredictable under pressure. And parenthood, dear boy, is pressure distilled."

I stepped into the light, drawing their attention.

Father noticed first.

"You’re leaving already?" he asked, eyebrows rising.

I nodded once. "Yes. The princess is expecting me."

He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. "Hmph. Loyal as ever."

Then—something shifted in his face. The teasing dropped for just a moment, replaced by a flicker of quiet pride. The kind I rarely saw from him unless I returned from a successful campaign or refused to die in a duel.

"You did good, Osric," he said. "By taking that oath. I may not understand why you did it... but I’m proud of you."

That surprised me.

A little.

Not because I needed his approval.

But because... maybe I did.

Just a little.

I nodded. "Thank you, Father."

Then turned on my heel and walked toward the awaiting carriage.

Because I had a vow to keep. A throne to protect. And a girl waiting at the end of a hundred conspiracies and a thousand whispered threats.

Princess Lavinia.

The future of this empire.

***

[Imperial Palace, Later...]

As my carriage rolled through the eastern gates of the Imperial Palace, I didn’t need an escort to guide me. My steps already knew where they wanted to go.

To her.

The palace grounds were already buzzing with activity—knights drilling in the courtyard, ministers scurrying like panicked pigeons, and a few poor new recruits throwing up behind a hedge from morning sword training. Imperial discipline at its finest.

But beyond all that—there she was.

In her private garden.

Princess Lavinia.

Sitting like a fallen star on her cushioned bench, a soft breeze tousling her hair as sunlight crowned her in gold.

She had a book open in one hand, a half-eaten macaron in the other, and a steaming teacup balanced on the table beside her—along with three more already emptied, as if the tea had wronged her and she was seeking revenge one cup at a time.

And on her lap—Marshmallow.

The oversized divine beast of a cat, with a tail that twitched like it had royal blood, rested his fluffy head on her lap as she absentmindedly stroked his ears. He looked like he had ascended into paradise.

And I—?

I just stood there for a moment.

Watching.

Observing.

Breathing in the quiet kind of calm that only she seemed to carry with her.

Princess Lavinia wasn’t graceful like a court-trained lady. She was chaotic. Sharp. Unfiltered. A whirlwind in a silk dress.

But gods—she was beautiful. In the kind of way stories never get right. In the kind of way that makes the world feel less cruel for just... existing near her.

And just as I was letting that thought warm something in my chest—

"Shall we go for a duel?" Caelum’s voice cut through the air like a fork on a porcelain plate.

I twitched.

Of course he was here, that bastard snake.

He was standing beside her chair, annoyingly close, with that smug little glint in his eye—like he thought breathing next to royalty counted as a skill.

If I had the authority, I’d throw him out of the palace. No—out of the empire. Preferably catapulted.

Lavinia didn’t even lift her head. She flipped a page, took another macaron, and replied in the laziest drawl I’d ever heard from her:

"Nope. I’m on break."

Caelum blinked. "Break?"

She popped the whole macaron in her mouth, chewed dramatically, then nodded with full seriousness. "Yes. Life break. Emotionally on vacation. Spiritually off-duty. Mentally... resigned. You know, the usual."

He blinked again. "You say that like you’ve been slaving away in a mine."

She finally looked up at him, eyes deadpan, voice dry as the desert:

"I AM. Since the day I was born, I’ve been working nonstop—breathing, existing, dodging assassins, studying diplomacy, swordplay, perfect posture, smiling for hours, pretending to care about politics, surviving my father, surviving tea parties, AND surviving you."

I choked back a laugh.

Caelum looked like someone had just slapped him with a fish.

Even Marshmallow flicked his tail like he agreed.

I took a step forward, unable to help myself. "That sounds like a rather grueling life, Your Highness."

She turned to me—and her entire face lit up.

Not like fireworks. No, more like sunrise.

Soft. Slow. Real.

"Osric," she said, my name falling from her lips like the most natural thing in the world. "You’re late."

I bowed with practiced ease, one hand across my chest. "My apologies, Your Highness. I had some urgent matters to attend to."

She squinted at me, pretending to be cross. "Hmm... alright, fine. Since you’re my friend, I shall show mercy and grant you forgiveness. Witness my gentle, benevolent heart."

I smiled. "I am honored by such divine generosity, Your Highness."

She leaned in slightly, glanced around like she was about to commit treason, and whispered behind her hand, "You can drop the formalities. Papa’s not here."

I chuckled. "As you wish... Lavi."

Her entire face lit up. "That’s better."

And just when the moment felt as serene as morning sun on still water—

Caelum cleared his throat, his tone practically dripping with long-suffering.

"Princess, don’t you think you’re being too much?"

She blinked, slowly turning her head in his direction like she was about to summon lightning. "What do you mean?"

He gestured toward me with the subtlety of a pouting child. "Exactly this! I’m your friend too, aren’t I? So why does he get all the smiles, and I get—" he waved a hand dramatically, "—frostbite?"

She tilted her head, blinked once, then calmly looked back at her book like he’d turned into background noise.

"Because," she said without even a pause, "you deserve it."

Her voice was flat. Frosted steel wrapped in velvet. So cold that Caelum froze mid-breath. Maybe it wasn’t just his body. Maybe his entire world tilted just a little, cracking beneath the weight of her dismissal.

She didn’t flinch.Didn’t soften.Didn’t even glance back.

And maybe—just maybe—she already knew.

Maybe Lavinia Devereux, Crown Princess of Elarion, knew exactly what Caelum was.A snake. Coiled too close to her sun. Lurking with poison behind his smiles and silk words.

But even if she didn’t—

It didn’t matter.

Because I knew.And I would make sure—

Every venomous thing hiding in the dark around her?

Would be silenced.

One by one.Before they ever got the chance to bite.