Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 360

Chapter 360: One Step Behind

[Haldor’s POV—Imperial Training Hall—Moments Later]

The sound of steel vanished. Not because the knights stopped—but because I stopped hearing it.

Her words echoed once. Twice.

"I guess... I have to look for a husband for me."

The world tilted.

For a fraction of a second, I thought I had misheard. That the clang of blades or the shouts of instructors had swallowed part of her sentence. That surely—surely—those words were not meant the way they sounded.

I turned toward her slowly.

Too slowly.

She stood with her arms crossed, gaze fixed on the training floor, jaw set in that way she wore when she was bracing herself against something she hated but refused to flee from.

Calm.

Composed.

Imperial.

My chest tightened.

"A... husband," I repeated quietly, testing the word as if it might break apart if I spoke it aloud.

She nodded once.

Just once.

As if that single motion carried the weight of an empire.

"The nobles won’t let it go," she said evenly. "Succession laws. Bloodlines. Heirs. They’re already circling like carrion birds."

I swallowed.

The thought of them—those same nobles who trembled before her sword and smiled behind fans—deciding her future made something dark coil in my stomach.

"And your father?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

She huffed softly. "Papa would burn the council chamber to ash before handing me over to a political marriage." Then—quieter, heavier—"But even he can’t fight the law forever."

The clang of steel resumed its meaning.

Strike. Parry. Clash.

War made sense. This did not.

I looked at her—really looked at her. At the woman who had conquered a kingdom in a month. At the girl who carried her father’s fury and her mother’s loneliness in equal measure. At the crown princess, who stood between duty and desire like she had been trained for it since birth.

And something inside me... broke its silence.

"Do you want one?" I asked before I could stop myself.

She turned.

Her eyes met mine—sharp, surprised, searching.

"A husband," I clarified, my voice steadier than I felt. "Is that what you want, Your Highness?"

For a moment, she didn’t answer.

The training hall roared around us—metal on metal, shouted commands, boots on stone—but the space between us felt painfully quiet.

"No," she said at last.

The word landed cleanly.

Honest.

"No," she repeated, softer now. "What I want has never mattered in matters like this."

My fists clenched at my sides.

"That’s not true," I said immediately.

She smiled at me then.

Not teasing. Not amused.

Tired.

"It is," she replied gently. "I was born with a crown over my cradle, Haldor. Every choice I make belongs to more than just me."

I took a step closer before I realized I had moved.

"Then let them find someone worthy," I said, heat slipping into my voice. "Someone who understands what it means to stand beside you. Someone who won’t try to cage you."

Her gaze softened.

"That," she said quietly, "is exactly what frightens them."

Silence stretched again—thick, dangerous.

I opened my mouth.

Closed it.

Because there were a thousand things I wanted to say—and none of them were allowed.

Choose me. I would never cage you. I would bleed before I broke you.

Instead, I bowed my head slightly, forcing the storm back behind discipline.

"As your captain," I said, voice controlled, "I will support whatever decision you make."

She studied me for a long moment.

Then she nodded.

"I know you will."

That was the cruelest part.

She trusted me.

She always trusted me...yet she doesn’t choose me.

The instructor shouted for a break. Knights lowered their weapons. The sound faded to murmurs and movement.

She turned back toward the training floor, eyes sharp again—alive with that familiar fire."Do you want to spar with me?" she asked.

For a heartbeat, the weight in my chest loosened.

I followed her without hesitation, hand settling on my weapon as naturally as breathing."It will be my honor, Your Highness."

She smiled—not the tired one from moments ago, but the dangerous, exhilarated curve she wore before a fight.

And as we stepped onto the mat together, blades rising, stances aligning, I understood something with terrifying clarity:

If I couldn’t fight the empire for her, then I would fight with her. Even if this was the only place I was allowed to stand.

***

[Lavinia’s POV—Imperial Training Hall—After the Spar]

CLANG!!!

STRIKE!!!

This—this was what I needed.

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