Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147: Royal Duties & Other Unexpected Tortures

[Osric’s POV—Everheart Mansion, Osric’s Chamber]

"Did the maid confess anything?" I asked, pushing open the heavy chamber door. It groaned like an old beast—same as my patience lately.

Aldric, vice-captain of the Everheart Knights and the most maddeningly by-the-book man I knew, stood waiting by the hearth. Firelight caught on the polished edge of his armor, and for a moment, he looked like he belonged on a stained-glass window.

He inclined his head. "No, my lord. She keeps repeating the same thing—says she never saw the man’s face. Hooded. Voice distorted. Paid in foreign coin."

I nodded, already peeling off my black overshirt. The fabric clung to my skin, stiff with dried sweat and palace heat. My body ached—though I wasn’t sure if it was from sword drills or the weight of carrying too many secrets.

"And... Marquess Everett?" I asked, voice low as I tossed the shirt aside.

Aldric exhaled slowly, like he didn’t want to answer. "We investigated. Thoroughly. But he came up... Clean, my lord. Not a trace of anything suspicious. No bribes. No leaked documents. Not even a late-night stroll."

I stilled.

He continued, cautiously, "Forgive me, but... I don’t understand why you suspect him. The Marquess has no clear motive to poison the Princess."

I turned slowly, fixing him with a stare sharp enough to crack stone.

"Did I ask for your understanding, Aldric?"

He flinched. "I—I apologize, my lord. I overstepped."

I ran a hand through my hair, suppressing the urge to snap. "Just... look deeper. Dig beneath the clean surface. I want to know if he’s had any contact with foreigners in the past three months. Anyone unaccounted for? Anyone who came in shadow and left without a trace."

"Yes, my lord," he said with a bow of his head.

"And what about the poison?"

Aldric straightened. "It’s unregistered. A compound of rare herbs, difficult to trace. But one of the ingredients we identified... was bellvine."

That got my full attention.

Bellvine.

The herb that burned slowly through blood like acid. Nearly tasteless. Fatal in the right dose. Illegal in every kingdom across the continent.

His next words were the nail in the coffin. "Refined. Laced into imported teas... from the Southern Continent."

My lips barely moved as I muttered, "Southern Continent... I see. You can leave now."

Aldric bowed again. "Yes, my lord." And with quiet efficiency, he left the room.

I stood still for a beat. Then, slowly, I dragged a hand over my face and whispered to the empty room, "He’s playing clean..."

But I knew better.

The dreams. No—visions. The memories that felt too vivid to be mere nightmares. In every one, it was Marquess Everett who slipped the poison to Caelum.

Except... this time, Caelum never delivered it. And the attempt happened sooner than it should’ve.

That terrified me more than anything.

It feels like the timeline was changing.

The path that came in the nightmare was bending.

Which meant...

"Someone else is pulling the strings," I murmured, pacing toward the window. "Someone deeper. Higher. Maybe even closer."

The foreign coin.

The missing face.

The altered plan.

"Everett wasn’t acting alone," I said aloud, to no one. "He’s being led. Encouraged. Used."

But by who?

I turned away from the window, frustration mounting.

Am I missing something?

Or... is someone rewriting the script while I play by the old rules?

I sighed—deep, exhausted—and collapsed onto the edge of the bed. The soft cushion swallowed me whole, and for the first time in days, I let myself feel the weight in my shoulders.

"Everything feels heavier now..." I whispered into the quiet.

And for once again, the silence didn’t comfort me. It made everything feel... inevitable.

***

[Lavinia’s POV—Council Meeting Room, Next Day]

The royal meeting room smelled like old scrolls, spiced ink, and the collective stress of too many people trying to sound important.

I sat near the far end of the grand mahogany table, legs daintily crossed beneath about four layers of silk.

"...The trade route through the Eastern Country Pass has been delayed due to recent weather conditions." Count Talvan droned on, voice smooth.

"We propose a minor tax adjustment on grain to offset the delay," he added, glancing up as though he just dropped a nugget of divine wisdom.

I blinked slowly.

My soul had left the room ten minutes ago since my butt was hurting from sitting here for so long.

I glanced sideways at Papa.

There he was—seated at the head of the table, regal, composed, and wrapped in an aura of quiet intimidation. His expression? Unreadable as always. Probably thinking about sword maintenance or whether the council room needs better acoustics for dramatic silences.

"What do you think, Your Majesty?" Count Talvan asked.

Papa smiled.

Smiled.

Uh-oh.

Because I know that smile.

It’s the one he wears when he’s about to throw me under the metaphorical political carriage.

And sure enough, he turned to me, his voice smooth and vaguely amused. "What do you think we should do, my dear daughter?"

My spine straightened. Every head in the room snapped toward me like we were in some kind of synchronized political ballet.

Oh gods.

This felt like an exam. No. Worse. Like an oral presentation with a surprise question and zero notes. And the examiners? An entire room of nobles who smell like scrolls and skepticism.

I cleared my throat.

"I... I think we should lower the tax a little," I said, trying to keep my voice calm and reasonable while internally screaming. "The heavy rains must’ve damaged a good portion of their goods. And if the people are already struggling, they won’t be able to pay full taxes on top of it."

There was a pause.

Then—

Nods. Several of them. Smiles. Even the forever-frowning Baron Fenwick nodded like I’d just told him poetry.

Count Talvan cleared his throat. "A fair and compassionate proposal."

Papa raised a brow at him, then looked toward the table’s far end.

The nobles gathered their scrolls and shuffled out of the chamber, whispering politely about "what a fine young voice the princess has" and "how well-bred she sounds."

"God," I mumbled, stretching my arms above my head with a little groan, "how can sitting still for this long be this exhausting? I swear I burned more calories here than I did sword training this morning."

My eyes sparkled. "Then I shall seize the moment."

I froze.

She barely had time to react before I launched into her arms, clinging like a koala with abandonment issues. "Oh thank the stars—you’re back! I missed you soooo much!"

Nanny chuckled, warm and teary-eyed, wrapping her arms around me in that cozy, squishy way only she could. "I missed you too, Princess. My sweet little sunshine."

Nanny sighed and touched my cheeks, her voice cracking. "I never should’ve left your side. If I was here, no one would’ve dared lay a hand—or poison—on my sweetheart."

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