Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 175

Chapter 175: The Rumour that Needed Killing

[Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Palace—DawnSpire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber]

Then, very slowly, I said, "What... exactly is going on outside the imperial palace? Because I feel like I’ve somehow missed three entire seasons of drama about myself while living in the palace."

I looked at Nanny. She was smiling. Not a normal smile. The dangerous, I-know-something-you-don’t-and-I’m-enjoying-this-too-much kind of smile.

"Nanny—" I started.

But before I could finish, she turned to Sera and announced, "I think we should leave them alone."

And then—then—they both giggled. Giggled like teenage girls watching the first scene of a romance play. Making those ridiculous "we-know-something" faces at each other.

I blinked. "...What’s wrong with them?"

And then—

"Princess, why are Nanny and Seraphina making those fac—"

He froze.

Eyes wide.

It was like someone had just hit the pause button on Lord Osric. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again. His entire face turned so red, I was honestly concerned the imperial physician might have to be called in for overheating.

Even Solena—the giant bird perched on his shoulder—tilted her head, clearly wondering why her master suddenly looked like a beetroot having an existential crisis.

I think... oh yes... Sera was right. He really did freeze.

Which meant... I absolutely had to tease him. I smirked and started walking toward him, slow, deliberate steps that made my gown swish dramatically around me.

"You look," I said, tilting my head, "like a tomato... that’s about to burst."

He blinked. "A... a what?"

"A tomato," I repeated sweetly, "ripe, red, and ready to explode."

"N-No...I don’t."

"Oh, you absolutely do."

I stopped in front of him, leaned forward just enough for my perfume to reach him, and watched him desperately try to avoid my eyes.

"Tell me, Osric... Do I look gorgeous?"

He stammered, still looking at the floor like it was suddenly the most fascinating object in the empire. "Y-yes."

I smirked, leaning closer. "Oh, come on. Look at me properly and say it."

He hesitated, then glanced up—and that’s when something shifted. His blush was still there, but in his eyes... there was something else. Something that made my stomach flip.

He reached out, gently took my hand... And before I could make another joke, he lifted it to his lips.

"You..." His voice was low and steady now. "You look absolutely gorgeous, Lavi."

My heart skipped.

Oh no. That was not part of my teasing plan.

I blinked—hard—suddenly the one avoiding eye contact like my life depended on it. "I... see. Uh... thank you."

Now, he tilted his head, that slow, knowing smirk curling his lips. "Are you alright, Lavi?"

Oh, for heaven’s sake, my poor heart was not trained for this kind of verbal assault.

I risked a glance at him—mistake. Big mistake. He was blindingly, unfairly handsome, like the universe had dumped all its "attractive" quota into one person and left the rest of us in economy class.

Gosh, this stupid, stupid handsome man. My heart’s going to pop right out, land on the cobblestones, and get trampled by a passing goose at this rate.

"I—uh—we... we should leave," I stammered, starting to walk before my dignity burst into flames. "Papa must be waiting."

His smirk deepened, like he knew exactly what kind of chaos he’d just unleashed in my chest.

Marshi trotted along happily beside me, tail flicking, while Solena sat perched on Marshi’s back, looking like she was overseeing some royal parade.

Meanwhile, I was just trying not to combust.

***

[Emperor Cassius’s POV—Grand Banquet Hall—Imperial Palace]

CRACKLE!

BOOM!

Outside, the sky was exploding with fireworks. The entire empire was roaring in celebration—my daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony... and my own birthday.

The daughter who had the audacity to be born on the exact same day as me. Sixteen years ago, she was a tiny bundle that fit in the crook of my arm. Now... now she was sixteen. Sixteen!

"How," I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my throne, "how in the blazes did she grow up this fast?"

"That," came a dry voice beside me, "is what every parent thinks when their child grows."

I turned my head to find Thalein—her elf grandfather—standing there, looking like he’d stepped out of some ancient painting.

His gaze was distant, almost wistful. "I wasn’t there when my own daughter turned sixteen... and then gave birth to her."

Then his eyes snapped to mine, narrowing dangerously. "Even though," he said slowly, "some idiot emperor got drunk and made her pregnant...she gave birth to a gem."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can feel the hatred towards me."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course you can. I didn’t even try to hide it. But—" His voice dropped, and he leaned closer. "I sincerely hope the same thing doesn’t happen with my grandchild. I hope no bastard wanders around my precious and lures her in love with him."

...

...

And every second one of them seemed to be... male. Young. Flashy. Smiling too much. Wearing ridiculous amounts of perfume. Laughing too loudly.

If even one of those pretty little peacocks looks at my daughter longer than three seconds—I swear, there will be an "accidental" duel to the death before dessert.

"Wipe. Every. Young man. From this banquet."

"You heard me," I said, fingers curling hard around the armrest of my throne. "This way... no love leeches will latch onto my daughter. No lingering stares. No accidental hand brushes over the dessert table. No young men. Anywhere near my daughter."

"But, Your Majesty..." he popped in, saying, "the princess is always surrounded by young men."

I fixed him with a look sharp enough to slice steel. "And what, exactly, do you mean by that?"

Theon’s grin was pure trouble. "Well, there’s Lord Osric and Caelum, for starters. They duel with her all the time. And sometimes—" he drawled, "they even sit around eating snacks together. Laughing. Talking a lot."

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