Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 233

Chapter 233: The Forbidden Invitation

[Imperial Palace—Lavinia’s Chambers—The Next Day—Lavinia’s POV]

I was sprawled across the couch like a cat in sunlight, one leg propped up on a pillow, the other dangling lazily off the side. My toes rested on Osric’s lap as he sat at the end of the couch, utterly absorbed in the task of painting my nails. His brows were furrowed in concentration, lips pressed tight as though this were the most important mission of his life.

Solena perched proudly on his shoulder, her golden eyes following every stroke of the brush like a hawk. Between the two of them, I almost felt like I’d hired a professional nail painter and his little assistant.

Meanwhile, Marshi lay curled on the rug near my feet, yawning so wide his big fangs showed before rolling back into a nap. The whole scene felt strangely peaceful—like the world outside with its whispers and executions didn’t exist.

"He must’ve been executed by now, right?" I asked absently, stretching my fingers above my head.

Osric hummed, not looking up. "Who?"

"The Marquess," I replied, my tone casual, as though speaking of someone who hadn’t tried to end my life.

"Yes," Osric said evenly. "By now, the Imperial Knights are probably stripping his estates and seizing every property under his name."

I nodded faintly, but the thought slipped away the moment his broad hand brushed against the arch of my foot. I flinched, letting out a small laugh. "Haha...that tickles."

"Stay still, Lavi..." His voice was firm, a faint crease between his brows as he carefully painted the curve of my nail.

I tilted my head, eyeing him with amusement. "You look far too serious for this. I’ve never seen you so concentrated—not even during sword practice."

Finally, he glanced up, and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Because..." His voice lowered like he was sharing a secret. "...I heard if a man paints his girlfriend’s nails—both fingers and toes—their bond becomes unbreakable."

I blinked at him flatly, lips twitching. "...And who fed you such nonsense?" 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"Grandpa," he said immediately, without a shred of shame.

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. "Of course it was him."

Osric continued, his voice earnest, as though quoting holy scripture. "He told me once that when he proposed to Grandmother, he gave her a bouquet not of flowers, but of rubies and diamonds. He said jewels last longer than roses... and that was how he won her heart."

I smirked, arching a brow. "So jewels and nail polish, hm? That’s pretty interesting. Now, I wonder..." I leaned forward slightly, my voice a teasing purr. "...how will my man propose to me one day?"

His hand jerked, the brush nearly slipping. He froze like I had just stabbed him with a dagger instead of words. "...I... I shouldn’t have said that."

I laughed softly at his flustered expression, the way his ears turned faintly red. "Too late," I teased, tapping the armrest with my fingers. "Now I’ll be waiting with great expectations."

"Show me your hand," he sighed and muttered, avoiding my eyes.

I leaned over the pillow and placed my fingers delicately on it, my lips curling into a wicked grin. "Please... give me your best service, sir."

He sighed but couldn’t suppress a small smile as he held my hand gently and began applying the paint, steady and precise. His fingers were warm against mine, far more careful than necessary, as if my skin were porcelain.

For a while, the only sound was the faint brush strokes. Then Osric’s voice dropped, lower and heavier, carrying a weight that made the air shift.

"The Divine Benediction is near," he murmured. "After that... you’ll officially be recognized as heir to the throne."

I hummed softly. "Mm. Papa says the same."

His brush paused just for a heartbeat, then continued with a strange deliberateness. His tone grew darker and possessive, the kind of voice that wrapped around me like chains. "And when that happens... you’ll receive countless proposal letters. Counts, neighboring kingdom princes, heirs of noble families... all of them will fight for your hand."

I glanced at him sidelong, catching the faint tension in his jaw and the way his grip on my fingers had tightened almost imperceptibly.

"Ahh," I said, smirking as I reached out with my free hand to pat his head, smoothing back his hair. "Don’t worry. Papa will tear and burn every single one of them before I even see them."

His eyes flicked up to mine—quiet, unreadable—but there was a flicker of relief there.

"...He already has," Osric muttered at last, returning to his work.

My eyes widened. "What?"

"Yes," he said calmly, though his lips curved ever so slightly. "I heard that some houses have already tried... and His Majesty replied with threats before burning their letters."

I blinked, then broke into laughter. "Hah! I suppose it’s not surprising. Papa can be scarier than the devil when it comes to me."

Osric nodded faintly, his focus never wavering. "The other hand," he said softly, extending his palm toward me.

His lips curved, a rare smirk tugging at his composure. "You mean your husband."

***

[Imperial Palace—Living Chamber—Later—Lavinia’s POV]

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