Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 349

Chapter 349: When Understanding Comes Too Late

[Lavinia’s POV—Later—Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chambers]

The hallway leading to my chamber was quiet.

Too quiet.

Moonlight spilled through the stained glass windows, scattering silver and white across the polished floors. Marshi trotted beside me, tail swaying lazily.

I slowed... then stopped.

Because standing outside my chamber door was Osric.

Petting Solena.

Solena perched confidently on his arm like the most traitorous bird in existence.

"What are you doing here, Grand Duke?" I asked, my voice clipped and formal.

Osric turned, immediately bowing. "Greetings, Your Highness."

His hair was neatly tied, his uniform perfect, and his posture straight despite the faint bruise still fading on his jaw. His eyes, however... were unreadable.

I waited.

He straightened and said calmly, "I was here to follow my oath."

I paused mid-step.

"Oath?" My brow furrowed. "I thought you..."

I sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Never mind. But I don’t need you guarding me today. You can go."

I reached for my chamber door— "Is it because I am no longer useful, Your Highness?"

His voice was quiet.

Too quiet.

It froze me in place. I turned slowly, facing him fully. His face was composed—calm, polite—but his eyes... Cold.

Wounded.

Dangerous.

"Osric," I said, voice even, "that is not what I meant."

He tilted his head slightly. "Then why dismiss me?"

I closed my eyes briefly. The last thing I wanted right now was another emotional outburst from him. Not with the nobles watching. Not with Father nearby. Not with my patience hanging by one thread.

I exhaled deeply.

"...Would you like some tea?"

For a moment, he simply stared.

Surprised.

Startled.

Softened.

"Tea...?" he echoed quietly. "It would be my honor, Your Highness."

Solena made a triumphant sound, as if she chose to escort a dramatic man into my room intentionally.

I stepped into my chamber. Osric followed with measured steps. Marshi plopped down by the fireplace with a groan, already bored.

"You’re strangely polite today," I said, pouring two cups myself—because the servants were off-duty.

"Am I?" he replied, voice smooth. "Perhaps Your Highness is noticing today."

I arched a brow. "Or perhaps you’re trying hard to behave."

His lips quirked faintly.

"Maybe," he murmured, "Your Highness brings that out in people."

I didn’t respond. He sat only when I gestured. His posture was rigid—formal—yet his eyes never left me.

Not once.

His gaze lingered with something complicated. Something unspoken. Something that made the room feel smaller.

I took my seat across from him. "Drink."

He lifted the teacup but paused, watching me with that familiar intensity.

"Your Highness," he said quietly, "you asked me to leave just now. And now... you offer me tea."

He leaned forward slightly.

"What changed?"

The air tightened. The teacup in my hand stilled. Solena ruffled her feathers, sensing the tension.

I met his eyes, holding them.

"Nothing changed," I said. "But you needed calm. And so did I."

A slow, strained breath escaped him—as if he’d been holding one for days. He lowered his gaze to the cup, fingers tightening around the porcelain.

"...Thank you," he said.

It had been a long time since I’d heard him say those words sincerely.

Silence settled.

Not hostile.

Not warm.

Just... fragile.

Balancing between an old wound and an unspoken truth neither of us dared to touch. Until he lifted his gaze again and said quietly, "I miss standing beside you."

A soft ache tugged inside my chest.

But I didn’t answer.

Not yet.

Not when the air between us was this thin. Not while his heart was still bleeding from a past he refused to let go.

I sipped my tea instead.

"Drink, Osric," I said softly. "Before it gets cold."

He obeyed. But his eyes watched me with a mixture of longing and loss that made Solena flap her wings irritably—as if she too sensed trouble forming.

And somewhere deep inside the palace... I wondered when everything had become this tangled.

And then—"Have you started liking Captain Haldor now?"

The question sliced the moment in half.

I stilled. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to him, leaned back in my chair, and asked, "Grand Duke... Do you think I am a playgirl whose heart skips from one man to another?"

His composure slipped—just for a heartbeat. "I didn’t mean it like that, Your Highness—"

"I know," I cut him off gently but firmly. "But still... love only happens once, Grand Duke."

His eyes flickered.

"My love," I continued, "has expired its place. It won’t grow again. It’s better if I remain unmarried—just as Papa wants."

Where did everything begin to break? Was it the day I moved hierarchy for Haldor?

...No.

No—it started long before.

It began the day he knelt for her. Eleania. The cause of my death in another life. The poison that fractured everything.

"So," I continued, setting my teacup down, "I want to free you from the oath you took on your coming-of-age ceremony."

"Osric," I murmured, "how would you feel if your officers... the people of your dukedom... were insulted?"

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