Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 214

Chapter 214: Her Father’s Throne

[Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Palace—The Tea Party—Continuation]

The nobles hesitated at the edge of the garden, their polished shoes whispering against the marble paths. I let my gaze sweep over them, slow and deliberate, watching every flicker of unease, every carefully masked curiosity.

The boldest among them dared to step forward first—a young lady in sapphire silk, her fan trembling in her grip.

"Y-Your Highness... the... the garden looks... enchanting tonight," she stammered, glancing nervously at the assembled crowd.

I let a faint smile curve my lips. "Why, thank you. I do hope it meets your expectations."

Color rose to her cheeks as she half-bowed. "Y-yes, Your Highness... it is very lovely indeed."

I inclined my head, voice warm but deliberate. "I’m glad to hear that. My lady-in-waiting will be most pleased—she worked tirelessly to ensure every detail would delight our guests."

Then I added softly, "Please, take a seat. I shall order someone to serve the tea."

She nodded quickly and moved, relief flooding her features as if I had spared her. The others followed, like sheep taking comfort from the first one who dared cross the meadow.

When all had settled, I turned my head slightly. "Osric," I said sweetly, "please take a seat."

He blinked. "...But, Your Highness—"

I tilted my head, amused. "Don’t forget—you are also the heir of Everheart. And heirs do not stand behind chairs like servants."

His eyes softened briefly, then he inclined his head. "...As you wish, Your Highness." He took the seat beside me, posture straight and dignified.

And that was when the whispers began.

"...Look—look how close they are sitting. Almost touching shoulders..."

"... Do you think the rumors are true?"

"...They must be. No one else is ever allowed so near her. And she doesn’t seem to mind at all..."

A muffled giggle. "...Well, can you blame her? Lord Osric is... impossibly perfect. A future Grand Duke, strong, handsome, and loyal—and she, our Crown Princess. If the stars wove a match, would it not look exactly like this?"

"...A Grand Duke and an Empress. Every title in the empire would tremble before them."

"...Indeed, no one could ever replace Lord Osric at her side."

I sipped my tea slowly, pretending not to hear—though every word sank into me. Really, they sound as though they’re narrating some romantic play.

But then—one sharper voice cut through, a little too gleeful.

"...Still... don’t you think the age gap is... scandalous?"

A soft gasp, a chuckle behind a fan. "...True. He was already wielding a sword when she was still toddling after her nursemaids."

"...If they truly are bound together, it will cause quite the stir. Some will say it’s love... others will call it ambition."

I nearly choked on my tea, holding back a laugh. Oh, how predictable. Praise in one breath, poison in the next. These people really do keep themselves entertained.

But then—like a blade against my skin—I felt it.

A stare.

Hot. Sharp. Burning holes into me from across the garden.

I didn’t need to turn to know who it belonged to.

Eleania.

The air between us seemed to shift, crackling with the venom of her silent rage. She sat rigid, her fan snapping open with a snap too sharp to be casual, her knuckles white as she gripped it. Her eyes—though lowered in false modesty—kept darting toward me, brimming with the fury of someone who had lost everything and could do nothing but seethe.

I let her glare wash over me like a passing breeze. If looks could kill, I would have been buried thrice over already. But looks alone cannot topple me.

Before the tension could thicken further, a soft, hesitant voice cut through the air.

"G-Greetings, Your Majesty the Crown Princess..."

A girl stepped forward—not older than me by much. Short brown hair framed her face, and though her curtsy was proper, her trembling hands betrayed her nerves.

"I... I am Lily Beryt."

Her voice wavered, as if even saying her own name was a challenge.

I softened my smile, my tone light but firm. "Greetings to you as well, Lady Lily."

Beryt. The name tugged at my memory. Ah, yes—the new baron family. They had risen to fill the seat left empty after my first decree at the age of four. My very first act of justice. And this young woman was the daughter of that house.

"Please, take a seat, Lady Lily," I gestured gracefully.

She flushed, bobbing her head quickly before slipping into the chair beside me—closer than most would dare.

Behind me, Osric leaned in slightly, his voice low enough only for me to hear. "Baron Beryt has proven himself, Princess. I heard that during the floods last year, he emptied his stores and paid from his own purse to feed the farmers before the imperial family reached them."

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