Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 322

Chapter 322: The Dinner of Unspoken Wars

(Lavinia’s POV — Red Wall Castle, Night After the Victory)

"Sera, it’s a formal dinner, not a coronation," I muttered as she tugged the ribbons of my gown tighter. "I don’t need to look like some ethereal goddess during wartime."

Sera didn’t even pause.

"You are a crown princess, Your Highness. You could be in a battlefield, a dungeon, or the middle of a swamp—you still need to look like the future empress."

I groaned. "War doesn’t stop just because I’m not wearing makeup."

"No," she said, curling another lock of my golden hair with a concentration that could rival brain surgery,"but men will."

I blinked. "Did you just—"

"I said what I said," she replied innocently, pinning a white bead into my hair.

I sighed and looked at the mirror.

A blue backless off-shoulder gown, the fabric sprinkled with faint silver stars that shimmered with every breath. The slit up my leg threatened to start unnecessary battles. My hair curled in golden waves, white pearls woven like constellations. My eyes shimmered—not with cosmetics, but with danger.

"...This looks like I’m heading to a grand ball," I grumbled. "Where did you even find this dress? We are in the middle of a war."

Sera, trying very hard to hide her smile, said, "Nanny sent it. Personally. With a note that said — ’This will be useful one day.’"

I closed my eyes. "Of course she did. That woman has prepared for every possible scenario."

She stepped back, looked at me once, and clapped softly—barely containing a squeal. "Now you look... dangerously gorgeous, Your Highness."

I tilted my head, admiring the reflection. And then, with a dead-serious expression, I whispered, "Well... I was born beautiful."

Sera nearly choked on her laughter. "Shall we, your highness?"

I nodded, and we stepped into the dim hallway lit only by torches. A silhouette stood waiting outside.

Sir Haldor.

The moment the door opened, he glanced in our direction—casual, professional—and then he actually saw me.

His body went still.

His eyes widened. His breath hitched—loud enough to hear. A faint color crept across his sharp cheekbones, and he looked away for a split second... as if the sight physically overwhelmed him.

Beside me, Sera whispered under her breath. "...is he blushing?"

I took a step closer. "Why are you here, Captain?"

His posture snapped straight, trained instincts smothering whatever emotion had flickered."I—I am here to escort you, Your Highness."

"Oh?"

Then he hesitated—just for a heartbeat—before extending his arm. The gesture was formal... but his eyes betrayed him, tracing my face, my gown, and the curve of stars woven into my hair.

"Shall we, Your Highness?"

There was something reverent in his tone. Something unpracticed—unguarded. I placed my gloved hand in his.

"Yes. Let’s go, Captain."

His fingers curved around mine—gentle but firm enough to anchor. His body tensed, not in battle-readiness... but in the unfamiliar rush of something dangerously softer.

We began to walk.

The hallway seemed to pull back for us. Torches flared brighter. Boots echoed in a perfect rhythm—one step of a princess, one step of the man escorting her like she was something far more precious.

At the end of the hall, Marshi stretched—tail smacking the wall with a loud thud. He yawned wide enough to swallow a soldier whole. When he saw me, he lumbered forward, brushing against my gown protectively.

I ruffled the fur between his ears. "Are you hungry?"

He let out a dramatic, exhausted growl—sounding every bit like a beast who saved a castle before bedtime.

"He sounds sleepy," Sera said softly.

I chuckled. "Of course he is. He hunted Meren soldiers like a maddened tiger today."

Marshi puffed his chest at that, letting out a booming growl as if saying, I deserve a grand feast.

Sera nodded solemnly. "He absolutely does."

For a moment—just a moment—time felt playful. Warm. Human. But then I felt it—the weight of Haldor’s gaze. Not predatory.

Mesmerized.

The kind of stare men like him never mean to show. The kind that slips free when their heart hasn’t realized it’s exposed.

His eyes lingered not on the dress... but on me.

On the woman he had nearly died protecting. On the woman he was walking beside now.

He didn’t speak.

There was something in the silence that hadn’t been there before—an emotion raw and new, blooming quietly and violently behind his ribs.

Like a new beginning of something.

I tightened my hold on his arm just slightly.

And together—a princess, a captain, a loyal maid, and a divine beast—we walked toward the dining chamber where the entire army waited.

Our steps echoed through the corridor like a slow drum roll... announcing a moment none of us fully understood yet —The night victory was crowned.

And beneath all that grandeur, something else quietly began—something unnamed, something dangerous, something I wasn’t ready to face yet.

The doors to the dining chamber swung open.

Every head turned. Every soldier—every commander—rose instantly to their feet.

Rey.General Arwin.Colonel Zerith.And at the center of them—Grand Duke Osric.

As one, they lowered their heads.

"Greetings, Your Highness."

A soft smile curved on my lips. "Did I make you wait too long?"

Colonel Zerith answered first, polite and warm, "No, Your Highness. We only just arrived."

Before I could respond, Haldor stepped forward—smooth, controlled, yet I could feel the tension in him like a drum under skin. He reached the head of the table and pulled back my chair.

A stare. Sharp. Bitter. Burning.

I lifted my eyes—and locked gazes with Osric. His expression didn’t shift, but the anger in his eyes was loud enough to shake glass. He wasn’t glaring at me — He was glaring at Haldor.

Not tonight. Not here.

Arwin wiped his mouth with a napkin and added dryly, "On the contrary—that is poetry for Rey."

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