Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 269

Chapter 269: The Day Papa Almost Killed My Future Father-in-Law

[Lavinia’s POV — Carriage Ride Back to the Palace—Evening]

The carriage rattled down the stone path, the sunset bleeding gold and crimson across the sky—which was very poetic, considering my soul was currently bleeding rage.

Marshi was sitting beside me, tail tucked, staring up with that you-overreacted-again face of his. "Don’t look at me like that," I muttered, crossing my arms. "He said he’d die for me. Die. Who says that? What kind of romantic idiot thinks that’s sweet?"

Marshi tilted his head.

"Exactly," I huffed, crossing my arms. "He’s lucky I didn’t throw the entire tea table at his face."

Sera, sitting primly across from me, folded her arms and tried—really tried—not to laugh. "You did throw a chair, Your Highness."

"I gently shoved it with emotional intensity."

"Across the room."

I squinted at her. "Whose side are you on?"

"Logic," she said calmly. "And perhaps Lord Osric’s. A little."

I groaned dramatically, pressing my forehead against the carriage window. "Why does he have to be so self-sacrificing? Ugh! I hate those brooding hero types who think dying is some sort of love language!"

Sera’s expression softened. "Maybe he just said it in the heat of the moment, Your Highness. Maybe he didn’t mean it literally. He probably wants to live with you too."

I sighed, my breath fogging the glass. "I know, Sera. Yet... I don’t like hearing it. Not from him."

The rest of the ride passed in silence, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the air. My eyes followed the soft glow of the palace lights flickering in the distance like sleepy stars.

When the carriage finally stopped, I stepped down and spotted Papa standing in the garden, bathed in moonlight, his gaze fixed on the sky.

"Oh... what’s Papa doing here?" I murmured.

Then turning to Sera, I said, "Take Marshi with you. I’ll join you later."

She nodded, and I made my way toward him. The night air was cool and gentle, brushing against my hair as I slipped my arm around his.

"What are you doing out here, Papa?" I asked softly.

He turned to me with that rare, gentle smile that always made me feel six years old again. "Nothing much. I was just... remembering something."

I blinked. "Remembering what?"

"The time when you were just a tiny bundle in my arms," he said with a low chuckle. "You used to stare at the moon with those big, wide eyes—like you thought you could pluck it right out of the sky."

I smiled, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Well... I’m looking at the moon with you again, Papa. What’s the difference?"

He sighed, a faint laugh escaping his lips. "The difference, my little moon, is that you’ve grown too much. It feels like just yesterday you were hugging my leg and arguing with me in that tiny, grumpy voice."

Then his expression shifted—from warmth to pure tyrant father mode.

"...And now," he growled, "I keep receiving those ridiculous letters of marriage proposals. Even after I clearly warned and banished someone as a punishment..."

I blinked, sweatdropping.

Oh dear. Poor Grand Duke Regis... I suddenly felt the secondhand terror of imagining him trying to convince Papa to approve my marriage with Osric. At this rate, we’ll probably need a battle map and divine intervention.

Papa finally sighed again, calmer this time. "By the way, Lavinia," he said, glancing down at me, "do you want to go somewhere for your upcoming birthday?"

I blinked. "You mean... a trip, Papa?"

He nodded. "Yes. Just for a day, perhaps. Somewhere peaceful. I thought it might be nice for you to rest before... whatever new chaos you decide to bring home next."

I gasped. "Papa!"

He chuckled, ruffling my hair affectionately. "You attract trouble like bees to honey, little one. Might as well let you do it somewhere scenic."

I smiled softly, my earlier anger finally melting away under his warmth. Maybe... a trip wasn’t such a bad idea. After all those bad memories and unwanted truths, taking a break sounded like the best idea I’d had in weeks.

"Alright... let’s go, Papa," I said with a small grin.

Papa smiled gently—rare and precious, like a melody I didn’t realize I’d missed. The moonlight reflected on his golden hair, and for a brief moment, the world felt... still. Peaceful.

Then his voice turned serious again. "We’ll go somewhere quiet. Somewhere far from the politics, the whispers, and the Empire’s noise. Just you and me."

My heart softened. "Alright."

Maybe the upcoming birthday of ours would be peaceful.

That’s what I thought.

I was wrong.So, so painfully wrong.

***

[Imperial Palace—Meeting Room—The Next Day]

"HOW DARE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Papa’s voice shook the pillars. Literally. I swear I saw one of the chandeliers tremble in fear.

There he stood—the Emperor of Elarion, the most terrifying man alive—with his sword pressed against Grand Duke Regis’s throat.

And Grand Duke Regis?He was smiling.Smiling.

Papa’s crimson eyes burned like fire. "How dare you bring up such an outrageous, blasphemous, utterly deranged idea in my court!"

"OUR WHAT?!?" Papa’s voice thundered again; the floor cracked. "Did you just say—"

"Our kids," Regis repeated cheerfully, patting the sword that was still against his neck like it was a pet. "Osric and Lavinia. They love each other!"

. . .

. . .

You could hear a pin drop. Or maybe that was the sound of my father’s sanity snapping. Papa blinked once. Twice. Then—

"LOVE EACH OTHER?!?!!"

He swung his sword—not to kill, thankfully, but enough to slice through Regis’s shoulder badge. The nobles screamed. I took another calm sip of tea.

Papa looked two seconds away from digesting him whole. "You dare—you DARE to stand here and say your son touched my daughter—"

"He didn’t touch me, Papa!" I cut in quickly, waving my hands. Then I muttered under my breath, "Well, not that you know of—"

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?" Papa roared.

"NOTHING!" I said, smiling sweetly. "I said the tea is hot!"

Papa’s vein popped. "DESTINY?! YOU CALL THIS DESTINY?! I SHALL WIPE OUT THAT DESTINY BY MYSELF!!"

Papa’s sword sparked with papa’s anger. "The only legacy you’ll leave behind is your ashes, Regis!"

Regis sighed dramatically, as if discussing the weather. "Wow... I never saw a man who doesn’t want his daughter to get married."

Papa bared his teeth. "Now you have!"

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