Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 231

Chapter 231: The Confession

[Imperial Palace—Dungeon—Lavinia’s POV—Continuation]

SLASH!! SLASH!!

The sound of leather against flesh echoed harshly against the stone walls, mixing with Caelum’s ragged screams. His back was a crimson canvas, each stripe of pain a testament to my resolve. My gloves were soaked, my hands stung and bled, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not until he gave me what I demanded.

Through the haze of torment and oil-slicked stone, I sensed the quick, heavy steps—the unmistakable authority of my father. My heart didn’t skip; it beat harder, exhilarated. Papa had arrived.

But before he could reach us, Caelum’s voice cracked, desperate and broken.

"I... I WILL... TELL!!! I... I WILL... CONFESS..."

I paused mid-strike, the thorns hovering an inch above his scorched flesh. Victory tasted bitter and sweet.

Papa burst into the dungeon, his expression a storm of fury and disbelief.

"Lavinia..." His voice was a low growl, eyes wide as they swept across the scene—Caelum’s torn body, my bloodied hands, the oil-slicked floor, and my heaving chest. "Have you... have you gone mad?! Just look at your hands."

I didn’t flinch. I looked up at him, cool and unyielding. "He’s ready to confess, Papa."

Papa’s sharp gaze flicked at me and then to Osric, who bowed respectfully. "Yes, Your Majesty. Caelum... has just said he is ready to confess," Osric said, his voice steady, measured.

But Papa barely heard him. His eyes were drawn to my hands—the delicate skin marred by the lashes, the tiny rivers of blood that trickled between my fingers. His lips pressed into a thin line, a mixture of fear, anger, and... concern.

"But... Lavinia, this... your hands... they are—look at them! This is madness! You will not—"

I cut him off, voice sharp and unwavering. "Just a few more minutes, Papa. After that, you may yell at me as much as you like." My eyes flicked back to Caelum, who trembled under my gaze, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.

Papa’s shoulders slumped slightly, tension coiling in the air like a storm waiting to break. He ran a hand over his face, letting out a long sigh. "Fine... just... a few minutes. But after... after this, Lavinia... you will listen. You hear me?"

I nodded once, deliberately, my expression unyielding. The thrill of power coursed through me as I stepped closer to Caelum, towering over him like a dark sun. My voice was quiet and cold, yet sharpened with steel.

"Now... Caelum," I said, letting the words drip like venom, "tell me. Did Marquess Everett... ever know... that you were the Emperor of Irethane?"

His eyes darted to mine, fear and pride clashing violently. The dungeon was silent, save for the faint hiss of oil and the heavy, anxious breaths of the men behind me.

I held the lash loosely now, letting its weight dangle like a pendulum of authority between us. Every second he hesitated, every word he swallowed, only fanned the fire burning hotter inside me.

"Speak, Caelum," I whispered, leaning closer, the cold tip of the lash grazing the scarlet sheen on his tortured back. My voice was soft, but every syllable dripped with command. "Don’t forget... your fate... it still rests in my hands."

He trembled violently, his body quivering with pain and fear. His voice was ragged, broken. "Y-Yes... He knew all along... infact... he pretended to adopt me... to take over the throne from you."

My eyes narrowed, piercing, hungry for every detail. "And... who else was involved in this treachery?" I asked, my tone almost casual, but every word a blade.

He swallowed hard, avoiding my gaze. "I... I don’t know. I just followed his instructions... from poisoning you... to... and... all the attacks... since you were born... I heard it was all him. I...I just wanted the throne...but the plans...were all made by him."

A slow, dark smile curved across my lips. "Good, Caelum... very good. You’ve spoken honestly now. And because of that... I will ensure your death is without unnecessary suffering."

His eyes widened in disbelief. "Wh-what?"

But I had already turned to Sir Haldor. "Sir Haldor... make him swallow the poison. And... drag Marquess Everett to the throne room."

Sir Haldor inclined his head, moving swiftly to obey.

Papa’s strong hands landed gently but firmly on my shoulders. His eyes, deep with concern, searched mine. "Now... let’s go. You need healing, Lavinia."

I shook my head lightly, trying to smile. "But Papa... I am fine—"

He glared, voice low and dangerous. "Lavinia."

I froze, swallowing the words in my throat, and immediately bowed my head slightly. "Yes, Papa. I... I shall follow you immediately."

***

[Living Area—Later—Lavinia’s POV]

Papa’s eyes snapped to the man like a hawk spotting prey. His hands clenched at his sides, and his voice cut through the room like steel on stone. "How are you even healing her... when it still stings her?!"

"You call this healing?" Papa continued, pacing in measured, terrifying strides. "Her blood... her hands... this is war on her flesh, and you treat it like a nursery scrape?" He leaned in close, his face almost brushing the physician’s, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "If she still feels pain, if she still flinches... you’ve failed your duty. Do you understand me? Failed!"

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