Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 41

Chapter 41: The Weight of Growing Up (and Papa’s Sass)

After Papa’s totally unnecessary joke about taking me to war, he left with a smirk on his face. A smirk. Seriously?

Sometimes I really wonder: Is this man really my papa?

I mean—first, he took me to an execution ground when I was just three months old! Three! Then he casually kills people in front of me like he’s just flicking lint off his clothes. Now he’s out here cracking jokes like, "What if I took you to war?" Sir, please, with your straight face, how is anyone supposed to tell whether you’re joking or actually preparing me to become the youngest general in history?

I honestly wonder what kind of parenting guidebook he’s been reading. "How to Raise a Villainess Baby 101"? "Murder, Mayhem, and Milk Bottles"?

And just like that, my life with Papa kept moving.

Time passed, just as fast and confusing as ever, and now—drumroll, please—I am three years old.

"Wahhh... I can’t believe I’m growing so fast," I said, standing in front of the mirror and turning this way and that.

My golden curls had grown longer, and my cheeks had gotten rounder. My red eyes sparkled with concern.

"But... why do I feel like I’ve gained so much weight?" I mumbled, gently poking my belly.

"Because you eat like a pig."

A familiar deep voice came from behind.

I turned around slowly, and there he was.

Papa.

Lounging like a king on the couch in my playroom, one hand behind his head, the other lazily flipping through some reports.

Sigh.

Look who’s talking. The man who eats two entire steaks in one meal and drinks wine like it’s apple juice. And he’s lying there doing absolutely nothing. Does he have no work today?

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You’re the one who keeps giving me dessert."

He didn’t even blink. "That’s because you cry if I don’t."

"...Touché."

He smirked. Again.

He smirked. Again.

I waddled over and poked his leg. "Why are you not working?"

"I am working. Watching over a lazy kid. Do you know how hard that job is?"

I blinked at him, utterly dumbfounded. What kind of excuse was that?

Then I smirked.

"But..." I trailed off sweetly, tilting my head.

He looked at me, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

I clasped my hands together, putting on the most innocent puppy-eyed look I could manage.

"...I got all that from you, papa."

He froze.

For a moment, he just sat there staring at me like I’d sprouted wings. Then he stood up with a sigh. "Looks like my daughter has started to talk back."

I folded my arms and lifted my chin, smirking proudly. "I even learned that from you."

Papa went silent again.

Hehe. How does it feel now, Papa? Getting out-sassed by a three-year-old?

Just then—knock knock—a familiar voice came through the door.

"Your Majesty, the Black Knights have arrived." It was Theon.

Papa nodded once, then turned to me. Without warning, he scooped me up like a bag of rice over his shoulder.

Sigh.

This again.

You’d think being royalty came with a little more dignity, but nope. Papa still carried me around like I was his favorite sack of potatoes.

So...nothing changed except my age.

As we walked, I rested my chin on his back and mumbled, "So... Sir Ravick is finally back, huh?"

Eight months. It’s been more than eight whole months since Sir Ravick went to war. And now, he’s returned—after conquering an entire kingdom.

I heard he fought like some mad dog. I mean, I get that wars are brutal and all, but I didn’t know knightly conduct included canine behavior.

Papa walked down the corridor like usual—unbothered, powerful, scary—and I just dangled over his shoulder like a plush toy.

"Papa, are we going to greet them outside?" I mumbled, watching the grand hallway pass by upside down.

"Yes," he replied simply. "They are someone who shed blood for us. So they need respect."

Right. They’re particularly the heroes of this empire—the ones who bled for Elarion, who kept it safe while the rest of us slept soundly in silk sheets. They deserved this kind of welcome.

I only met Sir Ravick once, and honestly... I’m a bit excited. I mean, who wouldn’t be? He was scary in that cool way. The kind of scary that made you want to grow up faster just so you could be scary too.

And then we reached the imperial grounds.

The massive gates had been opened, sunlight pouring in like golden water. The Black Knight troops marched in—heads high, steps in sync, armor shining despite the grime. There were people lined up along the stone path, nobles and commoners alike, clapping, cheering, and throwing petals.

"Long live Elarion!"

"Glory to the Black Knights!"

Throne Room,

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