Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 350

Chapter 350: A Tyrant Meets His Match

[Emperor Cassius POV—Throne Room—The Next Day]

The throne room buzzed faintly with murmurs—nobles lined against the walls, guards standing tall, and sunlight glaring off polished marble. But all of that noise evaporated the moment he walked in.

General Luke.

Black hair tied neatly. Blue eyes calm—too calm. Posture straight like a blade forged in quiet fire. And an aura that grated against my skin like a challenge.

I narrowed my eyes.

"So... you are that bastard," I drawled slowly, letting each word slice the air. "General Luke."

He bowed—not deeply. Not fearfully. A respectful tilt of the head, nothing more.

"Yes," he said, voice steady, irritatingly steady. "I am the general Crown Princess Lavinia has taken under her command."

Confidence. Unshaken confidence.

I hated it.

My jaw ticked. "Why is this bastard pissing me off already..." I muttered under my breath.

Theon, standing beside my throne, smirked. "Looks like Your Majesty has met someone who carries the same energy as you."

I turned my head sharply, eyes narrowing. "Should I cancel your leave for your children’s ceremony next week?"

Theon’s spine snapped straight instantly. "I apologize sincerely, Your Majesty."

Ravick stepped forward slightly, expression unreadable. "Your Majesty... shall I make him kneel?"

Luke didn’t even blink.

"No." I lifted one hand lazily, and Ravick stepped back.

My attention locked onto the man before me. General Luke didn’t fidget. Didn’t sweat. Didn’t look around nervously like every other fool who entered this room.

He just stood there.

Still.

Centered.

Infuriatingly composed.

"When nobles enter my hall," I said, voice echoing through stone, "they tremble in fear. They kneel—because they know who stands before them."

Luke’s expression did not shift.

Not even a muscle twitched.

His eyes met mine—calm, steady, unshaken.

"...They kneel," he said quietly, "because they have never faced true tyrants. I have lived my entire life under tyrants."

A ripple of shock spread through the room. Guards stiffened. Nobles gasped softly.

Theon muttered under his breath, "This one has death wishes..."

Ravick’s hand brushed his sword hilt.

I... smirked.

Bold bastard.

Fearless bastard.

Annoying bastard.

I leaned back in my throne, studying him like a puzzle sent by the gods to test my patience. I had summoned him today because Lavinia mentioned the word Astreyon.

A place even I, Emperor of Eloria, knew not to cross lightly.

And yet here he stood—a man from a kingdom ruled not by kings, but by priests—standing in my throne room as if he belonged here.

"I heard," I said slowly, "that among those fools in Meren, you were the only sane one."

Silence.

Luke neither confirmed nor denied it.

"But," I continued, "I am curious why a man from Astreyon—a land that barely acknowledges foreign soil—would serve as general to a kingdom of idiots."

Luke’s jaw tightened.

"And more importantly..." I leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Why am I seeing a man of Astreyon in my empire when your people do not mingle with outsiders? Ever."

His grip on his wrist tensed—just slightly. Barely noticeable.

Except to me.

"Did you fall in love with an outsider?" I asked, letting the words drip with provocation.

This time he flinched.

A small movement. Barely there.

But I caught it.

Ah...

There it is.

A weakness.

A past.

A wound.

"Interesting," I murmured, tapping my finger on my throne. "So you fell in love with someone beyond your sacred borders?"

His expression closed off, turning stone-cold.

"You do not have a family then?" I pressed, voice turning sharp. "Where is your wife? Any son or daughter?"

Luke was silent for three seconds.

Not long.

But long enough to ooze pain, memory, and regret. Then he spoke—quiet, steady, but laced with hollowness.

"I lost my wife and son years ago," he said. "That is all I can tell you, Your Majesty."

The throne room fell silent.

Not a pin dropped. Not a breath moved. Only the echo of his words lingered—heavy, dense, and soaked in grief.

I watched him.

Watched the tightness in his jaw. The way his fingers curled faintly. The pain flickering behind his eyes—raw, buried deep.

He wasn’t lying. But he wasn’t telling the full truth either.

I tilted my head, lips curling into a slow smirk.

"Hmm."

I studied him like a beast sizing up another beast.

"Why," I muttered under my breath, "does this man look like he is hiding something else?"

Something bigger. Something dangerous. Something connected to—

His eyes.

A familiar blue.

Enough to confirm my suspicion. This bastard...This man... Was hiding a truth big enough to rattle even me. And I would tear it out of him if I had to dig through his bones to find it.

***

[Lavinia’s POV—Private Garden—Later]

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