Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 217

Chapter 217: The Night Refuses to End

[Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber—Later—LAVINIA’S POV]

The moment we reached my chambers, I collapsed dramatically into Osric’s lap, sprawling as though the world itself had tried to murder me with boredom and gossip. Resting my head against the firmness of his thighs, I threw my arms up toward the painted ceiling and groaned, "Gosh... Papa was so right. All nobles are traitors, filthy liars, and cowards—every last one of them! I swear, the empire is one gigantic pigsty dressed in silk."

"Every last one?" Osric’s voice was smooth, amused, and far too calm for my storm of frustration. He leaned down just enough to poke the tip of my nose with his finger. "Careful, Lavi. Don’t forget... I’m a noble too."

I blinked up at him, caught red-handed. His eyes narrowed into that mock-suspicious squint, the kind that always made me feel like a child being scolded for stealing cookies.

Like a professional at covering my tracks, I turned my gaze dramatically toward the ceiling, avoiding his stare as if it were too much to bear.

"Ah... correction then." I cleared my throat with fake seriousness. "Not all nobles. Just... most of them. Ninety-nine percent."

I grabbed his hand with both of mine, placed it firmly atop my head, and said sweetly, "Now come on... give me a little massage, my love. Your princess demands compensation."

He sighed. And it was purposefully exaggerated, dripping with false agony. "So I’m the sacred one percent?" His fingers still found their way into my hair, gentle and slow, kneading the tension from my scalp as if he couldn’t help himself. "Should I feel honored now?"

I closed my eyes, melting instantly beneath his touch. "Mm, yes. You should feel worshipped. I’m practically declaring you a saint. Saint Osric of the Suffering Princess."

He laughed low, the sound vibrating through his chest and against my ear where I leaned into him. "Suffering, hm? You sounded awfully powerful back there in the garden, threatening half the empire. And now here you are, whimpering in my lap like a spoiled kitten."

"Shh," I mumbled, nuzzling closer, hiding my smile against him. "Kittens bite when teased."

"Oh?" He bent lower, brushing his lips against my temple, his breath warm against my skin. "Then maybe I should risk it. Saints are supposed to face danger, aren’t they?"

I tilted my head, smiling slyly before pushing my lips into a pout. "Alright then... give me a kiss."

He chuckled low, as if amused by my demand, and leaned down to brush the lightest peck against my lips. Barely there.

. . .

. . .

I froze, blinking at him. Definitely offended. "What was that?"

"A kiss."

"It wasn’t."

"It is." His mouth quirked into a smirk, clearly enjoying himself.

My jaw dropped. I sat up, leaned closer, and narrowed my eyes. "Sometimes," I whispered slowly, dramatically, "you behave like... like an angry grandpa."

He flinched as though I’d stabbed him. "WHAT! I am not a grandpa."

I shrugged innocently, resting my chin on my palm. "You behave like one. Grumpy, miserly with affection, stingy with kisses—very grandpa-like."

The silence that followed was so heavy it was almost comical. Even Marshi and Solena, who had been busy plucking each other’s fur and feathers in their usual chaos, paused mid-swipe and blinked at us. Then, as if deciding our nonsense wasn’t worth their attention, they resumed their little battlefield.

Before I could smirk at him again, Osric suddenly tugged me closer, and I stumbled right into the firm line of his chest. My hands pressed against him, but instead of pushing away, I melted against his warmth. His right hand slid down, brushing against the bare skin of my thigh where my gown had shifted. His fingers lingered, deliberate, burning a path of heat against me.

My breath hitched.

He leaned down, his voice dropping lower, husky, and dangerous. "Should I... prove what I am, Lavi?"

My eyes widened. My hand flew to slap at his wandering one, though my touch was weak, more flustered than furious. "A-Are you seducing me... in daylight?"

The corner of his lips lifted, wolfish, as his gaze flicked lazily to the tall windows where the sun was dipping low. "Daylight?" he murmured, his voice brushing against my ear like velvet. "Look again, love... the night is already about to start."

I swallowed hard, caught between laughter and the heat pooling in my chest. My fingers curled into his shirt. "You... you really are impossible."

He chuckled low, clearly satisfied at flustering me.

I slipped off his lap with a dramatic huff, smoothing down my gown like I hadn’t just been seconds away from melting completely in his arms. "Alright, enough of that. Just... go back. The day is over."

Stretching my arms high above my head, I let out a wide yawn, not even trying to hide it. "Yawn... I’ll take a bath, have dinner with Papa, and then sleep immediately. I feel exhausted after dealing with those dreadful nobles. Truly... nothing drains the soul faster than their endless scheming."

Osric chuckled again, this time softer and warmer. Before I could step away, his arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me into the firm comfort of his chest. He pressed a lingering kiss against my cheek, his lips warm, his presence grounding.

"Alright," he murmured near my ear, his voice velvet and tender. "I shall leave, then. Rest well, my love. Take care."

I waved lazily over my shoulder, though a smile tugged at my lips. "Go, go. Before I change my mind and demand more kisses."

***

[Imperial Dining Hall—Later]

A smirk tugged at my lips—mischievous even through my haze of sleep. "I made sure they understood, Papa... in the future, they will work under me." My words slurred slightly, but the edge of victory was clear. "And you were right, Papa... nobles are traitors!"

***

[Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber—Later]

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