Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43: When Etiquette Dies and Marshmallows Hatch

"WHAT?!" I gasped loudly.

"Papa, you can’t just ban greetings!" I flailed my arms like I was trying to smack the nonsense out of the air. "That’s not how etiquette works!"

Papa didn’t even blink. "I’m the Emperor."

"That doesn’t mean you can change history!"

"It means I can change the future," he said, ominously, like he was announcing a new era of tyranny. "And we’re starting with that barbaric lip-to-hand nonsense."

I stared at him. This man. This delusional, overly dramatic man. How can he say things like that with the poise of a philosopher and the logic of a watermelon?

I spun toward Ravick, my last, desperate hope. "Ravick! Please! Say something!"

He didn’t even hesitate. "I agree with His Majesty, my princess."

...

I blinked.

Once. Twice. Thrice.

...ARE THESE PEOPLE OKAY?! DID SOMEONE PUT SOMETHING WEIRD IN THEIR TEA THIS MORNING!

That’s when the door opened, and Theon strolled in holding a scroll—completely unaware he was walking into diplomatic insanity.

"Theon!" I cried, reaching toward him like a damsel spotting a lifeboat made of sarcasm and functioning brain cells.

He blinked. "What’s wrong, princess?"

"Papa’s gone mad. He’s malfunctioning. He’s completely lost his brain!"

Theon’s eyes darted toward Papa, then back to me. He smiled with the weariness of a man who had seen things. "I know that, princess."

Papa glared at him like he was deciding between execution or exile.

Theon coughed into his fist. "...I mean, yes. But what specifically this time?"

I jabbed a finger at Papa like I was presenting Exhibit A in a courtroom drama. "He wants to ban the hand-kissing greeting tradition!"

Theon just... stared.

Processing...

Buffering...

And then—"WHAT! Your Majesty, have you completely lost it?!"

Finally. Validation.

"Please tell me this is a joke," Theon added, glancing around like hidden jesters would pop out with ’April Fools’ signs.

Papa, face as blank and serious as an imperial edict, said, "It’s an outdated custom. Unnecessary. Too much physical contact."

"It’s a sign of respect!" Theon argued. "It’s part of diplomacy! It’s older than this castle!"

"It’s a threat," Papa snapped. "They’re touching her."

I threw my hands up. "It’s a hand, not a National Treasure!"

"It is a national treasure!" he thundered, eyes blazing with righteous fury.

I gasped. "Papa!! You can’t say things like that in public! Do you want people to abduct me?!"

Ravick, still looking like a particularly serious gargoyle, muttered, "Anyone who attempts to abduct the princess will cease to exist."

Wow... I can’t believe this is the energy I am surrounded by.

Theon sighed like he aged ten years in ten seconds. "Should I throw myself out the window now, or after the council hears about this?"

We’ll jump together, Theon.

Theon groaned. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, you cannot change centuries of tradition just because you feel threatened by handshakes. What’s next? Are you going to change marriage customs too? One day the princess will have to get married—are you going to change that too?"

Yes! Good point, Theon.

I turned to look at Papa. But instead of calming him down... Papa froze.

Then he narrowed his eyes.

Then mumbled, darkly, "Marriage?"

Oh no.

Oh no, no no. Don’t tell me, he—

"You’re saying my daughter has to get married? One day?"

I mean... eventually? Not now, of course. I’m like—a toddler. But in the future, I have to.

"Yes, your majesty." Theon said, cautiously. "In like... twenty-four years? When our princess is ready? When the stars align and world peace is achieved? She has to, your majesty."

His expression darkened like a thundercloud. "To whom? Who dares think they’re worthy?"

"Papa—"

"No. Absolutely not. She’s not getting married. And how dare you say such vile things in front of me?" Papa’s voice dropped into that deadly Emperor tone—low, cold, and full of incoming policy changes.

Then, with the calm of a man who had completely lost his mind, he added,"I’ll just change the law. Make it illegal to propose to her."

"WHAT THE—PAPA!!" I yelped like he’d just declared war on romance itself.

Forget the hand-kissing ban. That was ridiculous, yes—but this? This was a crime against my entire future.

He was trying to make me single forever?! What did love ever do to him?

Thankfully, Theon—our last line of defense against royal madness—stepped in and somehow managed to reason with him. Probably with the same tone one uses to talk a nobleman down from fencing a tree.

"Alright, I get it," Papa grumbled, rubbing his temple like we were the ones giving him a headache. "Stop eating my brain."

And just like that, the first crisis of the day was averted.

But me?

I was spiraling.

What about my love life?!

Papa had declared emotional martial law. While I should’ve been worrying about people kissing my hand—I was now genuinely panicking about never getting to hold anyone’s hand. Ever. For the rest of my life.

He could actually do it.

Papa, the most powerful man in the empire, was ready to draft a law that would outlaw my romantic future. Meanwhile, I was sitting here wondering if I’d ever even get to wink at someone without triggering a national emergency.

Huh?

The treasure room?

What now?

Without a word, we all began walking—well, striding with purpose—toward the treasure room. It was tucked away in one of the palace’s inner wings, highly secured, and strictly off-limits to everyone except the royal family and Theon—since he was the one who kept track of everything from priceless artifacts to the number of dessert spoons.

In the center of the room, resting on a velvet pedestal, was the golden egg—the one Grand Duke Regis had gifted me on my first birthday. I had almost forgotten about it in the whirlwind of chaos.

It was cracking.

And glowing.

"But Papa—it’s mine!" I huffed, trying to peek around him.

And then—crack.

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