Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 358

Chapter 358: What? A Marriage?

[Haldor’s POV—Dawnspire Wing—Later That Morning]

I left her chambers with my spine straight and my thoughts in chaos.

That was nothing new.

What was new was how the silence followed me—how the corridors seemed to watch as I walked, as if the palace itself sensed that something had shifted and was waiting to see which way it would fall.

Captain. Protector. Nothing more.

That was the role I had carved into myself, stone by stone, year by year. And yet this morning, every step away from her door felt like resistance—like swimming against a current I had only just noticed pulling me in.

I stopped at the tall window overlooking the inner courtyard.

Soldiers trained below. Steel rang against steel. Commands echoed. Order, discipline, repetition—the language I understood best.

Good.

I needed that.

Because my mind kept returning to the way she had said my name.

Not Captain. Not Protector.

Just—Haldor.

I clenched my jaw and forced my focus outward.

Last night had been a mistake. No. Last night had been the truth. And truth was far more dangerous than any error.

A presence settled beside me.

I didn’t hear footsteps. I felt it.

"You look like a man who hasn’t slept," General Luke said calmly.

I stiffened and turned slightly. He stood at my side, hands folded behind his back, gaze fixed on the training yard below. His posture was relaxed—but his presence pressed like a weight against my ribs.

"I am fine, General," I replied evenly.

"Hm." His eyes didn’t leave the courtyard. "Lies are unnecessary this early in the morning."

Something cold settled in my chest.

I stared at him, my voice turning sharp. "And it is unnecessary for me to share anything with you." I paused deliberately. "Especially with someone who once served an enemy kingdom."

If he was offended, he didn’t show it.

He merely continued to watch the soldiers below, as if my words were nothing more than a breeze passing through stone.

I clenched my jaw and turned away. I had no interest in walking beside him. No interest in conversations soaked in half-warnings and veiled judgments.

I took two steps—

"She is the Crown Princess, Captain."

I stopped.

Slowly, I turned back, brows furrowing. Luke finally looked at me.

Not coldly.

Not mockingly.

But with something darker—something heavy with experience.

"If you dare to think," he said calmly, "that standing beside a tyrant is a blessing... Let me remind you of something."

His voice lowered, every word deliberate.

"Standing beside a tyrant is nothing but death—served on a golden plate."

The words settled like iron in my chest.

For a moment, I simply stared at him. This didn’t feel like a general speaking to a captain.

It felt like—no. I cut the thought off sharply.

He is nothing to me.

I straightened, my spine rigid, my voice cold and unwavering.

"That is none of your concern, General," I said. "I don’t need advice from you."

I held his gaze without blinking.

"And I trust my princess," I finished quietly, firmly, "more than I trust myself."

For the first time—just for a fraction of a second—something flickered in his eyes.

Not anger.

Not disdain.

Something closer to... recognition. I didn’t wait to name it.

Silence stretched—heavy, deliberate.

Then he spoke again, "So, she trusts you?"

The words landed harder than expected.

"Yes," I said immediately.

"And you would die for her?"

That sentence cut deeper than any blade ever had.

"Die?" I turned toward him, my expression going cold in a way that even surprised me. "No."

He finally looked at me.

"I will never die for her," I said, each word measured, grounded, and absolute. "I don’t want to die for her."

Something fierce and frightening burned up my chest.

"I want to—" The truth slipped out before I could stop it. "I want to live with her."

The courtyard noise seemed dull. General Luke stared at me for a long moment—long enough that I wondered if I had just signed my own execution.

Then, slowly, he exhaled.

"That," he said quietly, "is exactly why you should be afraid."

I frowned. "Afraid?"

He turned fully toward me now, his gaze sharp—not cruel, but warning.

"You are standing beside a tyrant’s daughter," he said. "A woman raised by an emperor who breaks men for breakfast and crowns them for dinner."

I didn’t flinch.

"She is not like him," I said firmly.

Luke’s eyes narrowed. "No. She is worse."

I stiffened.

"Because she does not rule through fear alone," he continued. "She rules through loyalty. Through trust. Through making men believe they choose her."

His gaze bore into me. "And men who believe they choose her... burn."

But... did everything really change only for me? What if it hadn’t? What if she regretted it?

What if the kiss was just a moment? A weakness? A mistake she would later erase with duty and distance?

So... kissing me—did she really not regret that?

If she didn’t... then—could I dare to think that I could stand beside her as more than her captain?

***

[Lavinia’s POV—Same Time—Imperial Council Chamber]

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