Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 273

Chapter 273: Crown and Desire

[Eleania’s POV—Talvan Estate—Morning]

"...I feel betrayed," I whisper, voice small in the sun-blanched salon.

Sirella lifts her teacup without looking. The porcelain breathes steam like a secret. She doesn’t blink. She only flips the newspaper with the casual cruelty of someone folding up other people’s lives.

"And what made you feel betrayed, Eleania?" Her tone is sugar over steel.

My hand curls into a fist so tight the knuckles ache. "You promised—you said you would help me get closer to Lord Osric—"

She doesn’t even bother to hide the contempt in her smile. "I said I would help. I never promised, Eleania."

Her eyes find mine at last and the room chills. Dark light pools in the irises—cold, calculating. "Know your place before you dare to raise that filthy voice at me." Her voice is a blade sheathed in velvet. "You like Lord Osric, yes. But because of your foolishness? He doesn’t even look at you. So do not blame me for your mistakes, Eleania."

The word "foolishness" tastes like ash in my mouth. Heat floods my cheeks; I swallow it down. This woman—Sirella Talvan—looks like a porcelain doll the court fawns over, but she is glass sharpened to a thousand edges. Her politeness is a trap set with honey.

She taps the paper with one manicured finger, the headline splintering the quiet: OSRIC & PRINCESS — ENGAGEMENT RUMORS SWIRL. Her smile widens into something beautiful and terrible.

"Did you see the headlines today?" she asks, standing so slowly it feels like the world has fallen out of rhythm.

"I—" My voice catches. I have no words for this sudden, bright ruin. I watch her carefully. She is a season you only think will pass quickly and then never does.

She steps forward, the distance between us charged with the memory of everything she has made me do. And then—SLAP.

Her hand lands on my cheek with the sound of a page being torn from a book. I taste metal, panic, and heat. The whole room tilts.

"You imbecile," she hisses, cupping my chin with fingers that are both cruel and exquisite.

"We brought you here to take him—to seduce him, to pull him away from that throne, to make him useful to our cause. We planted you into their orbit. We covered your every mistake. We orchestrated the balcony incident and the poisoned maid and even I have to bow to that damn princess—each scandal patched, each whisper swaddled in plausible lies so the Talvan name would shine brighter in the dark."

My throat closes. The room narrows until only her face exists—beautiful, patient, and deadly.

"And now," she continues slowly, each word wrapped in contempt, "if Princess Lavinia and Lord Osric bind themselves together—our plans collapse. Your incompetence is a contagion. Did you know because of you...all our fucking plans collapsed? And here you dare to raise a voice at me."

She withdraws her hand, and I suddenly feel like something she’s inspected and discarded. Her eyes flick to the maid standing rigid nearby.

"Take her," Sirella orders, voice cool as winter air. "Put her in the old storage room beneath the east wing. Let the rats remember her name while we fix the rest of the chessboard."

The maid’s face is blank but obedient. She steps forward, fingers trembling as she grips my wrist. Panic flares hot and awful in my chest.

"No. No—Sirella, please—" The plea sounds foreign in my own ears. "I was wrong; I will do anything you say... Please...."

The maid drags me toward the corridor.

They shove me into the storage room and slam the door. Darkness swallows me whole. The air is thick with dust and the stale ghost of clothes that have not been worn for years; the small, animal-cold scratch of something behind a crate makes my skin prickle.

"It’s all because of her," I rasped into the black, voice ragged. "That damn princess... if she hadn’t taken what was mine... I wouldn’t be here. I—" My hands curled until my nails bit my palms. "I shall kill her. I WILL KILL THAT PRINCESS."

***

[Sirella’s POV — Same Time—Outside the Storage Room]

"...I WILL KILL THAT PRINCESS!" Eleani’s shriek ripped through the corridor, thin and desperate.

I lingered in the shadow outside the storage room and let the sound curl through me like a pleasant toxin. A slow smile cut across my face as Father stepped forward, voice careful. "What are you planning, Sirella?"

I turned, eyes cool as winter glass. "Preparing the perfect way to end her, Father."

He glanced at the heavy door, then let out a soft, disappointed sigh. "I always knew she was useless... Marquiess brought her here, and now she’s nothing but a liability."

My smile widened, teeth barely showing. "Don’t worry. She’ll be useful yet. She’ll learn her place at the princess’s birthday."

Father watched me for a long breath, the faintest tremor of hope—or fear—passing over his face. "I hope whatever you’re planning... this time it doesn’t fail."

He walked away before I could answer. I stayed, feeling the darkness press close and friendly, and looked at my aunt’s portrait again—the previous empress, frozen in oil and pride, the crown heavy on her brow.

***

[Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber—Afternoon—Lavinia’s POV]

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