Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 59

Chapter 59: Not All birthday’s End with Cake

The gifting ceremony continued.

There were more sparkly boxes, more overly complicated bows, and more nobles trying to outdo each other with gifts that sparkled louder than their titles. Honestly, it was starting to blur together.

And then...

He came.

The one I hated the most.

The walking wart of the empire.

The human embodiment of a paper cut.

Marquess Everett.

Even his name made my molars ache.

If this were a novel (which it was, technically), then he was the one responsible for my banishment in the future. The snake in a fancy coat. The weasel with a fan collection. The reason I sometimes fantasized about launching mashed potatoes at dignitaries.

I don’t know why, but every time I see him, some deeply buried rage in my tiny body flares to life. My nerves go pop pop pop like bubble wrap.

And his eyes—ugh.

That permanently constipated glare, like someone just served him soup with a fly in it.

Should I just... order someone to pluck out those eyes?

I mean, I’m the princess. Surely there’s a law about protecting royal eye contact.

Anyway.

He walked up, draped in a seaweed-colored robe that was trying very hard to say "elegant" but mostly screamed "swamp monster on a budget." His shoes were so polished I could see my annoyed little face in them. And those feathers on his shoulder—were those...peacock? Pheasant? Pompous? I wasn’t sure.

Then he bowed stiffly. Like his spine refused to bend for commoners, and somehow, I counted.

"I wish His Majesty the Emperor a happy birthday, and..."

Sigh. Look at him.

Stammering. For greeting a toddler.

It was honestly kind of impressive. I watched with the deadpan stare of a judge at a talent show. He fumbled through the sentence like it had personally wronged him.

Then — as if dragging the words out of a crocodile’s mouth — he forced the fakest smile known to mankind and added, "...And I wish the sun of the empire a happy birthday."

Me?

He meant me?

The sun of empire?

Humph.... Coming from the same man who once suggested in the novel that maybe I should be sent to a quiet countryside "for my nerves."

I blinked slowly. Deliberately. Like a cat staring at a bug, it’s deciding whether to squash or ignore it.

I gave him nothing. No nod. No smile. Not even a fake royal thank-you with teeth gritted behind politeness. I simply turned my head and stared at the nearest vase like it was the most fascinating artifact in the empire.

There was a brief silence.

A very awkward one.

Because he — Marquess Everett, walking ego in feathers — was waiting.

Waiting for me to say thank you. And not just him. The crowd shifted uncomfortably. A few nobles glanced at each other. Even the air felt like it was holding its breath, like, "Is the princess... snubbing him? In public? On her birthday?"

Yes, Geraldine. Yes, she is.

Then came the voice I’d been anticipating.

"Lavinia, you should—"

Papa’s voice. Soft, patient, Emperor mode. He was about to tell me to say thank you. You know, to be "diplomatic" or "gracious" or some other virtue, I had zero interest in performing for that man.

So before he could finish, I tilted my head dramatically and gasped with all the sparkle of a girl who just saw a unicorn.

"Oh wow..." I said, eyes wide. "I want those chocolate lava-cakes, Papa!"

There, behind the buffet table. Glorious. Gooey. Steamy chocolate dreams stacked in towers of sugar and happiness. My saviors.

Papa blinked, paused for half a second... and then looked to Theon with a nod.

"Get them for her."

Theon vanished like a man on a quest from the gods.

And Everett?

Oh, Everett.

Did you see that?

Huh?

Hey, you pompous potato with a monocle addiction. Did you see how not even the Emperor is going to force me to thank you?

This is my empire, you bastard. Sit down and eat a shoe.

I didn’t say it out loud. Of course not. I just gave Everett the faintest glance. A look so brief, so cutting, it might as well have been a dagger wrapped in a cupcake.

He flinched.

I turned back to the vase. Still so beautiful. So vase-y. Truly, the MVP of this party.

Victory had never tasted so sweet.And soon, it would taste like molten chocolate.

Marquess Everett — may his socks always be slightly damp — gave a stiff bow and finally walked away.

But not before I felt it.

That glare.

Like two angry cucumbers dipped in vinegar, his eyes burned into the back of my royal head. An ominous glare. A "how dare this four-year-old defy my diplomatic existence" kind of glare.

Hmph.

What, you bitter baguette? Think your hatred burns brighter than mine? I read the novel. I know what you did. I hate you more than you hate spinach in your teeth. So go glare at a wall and trip on your way out.

Now then...

Back to the real matter at hand.Chocolate. Lava. Cake.

My eyes sparkled like treasure-hunting pirates spotting gold. One bite, and the world became a soft, squishy dreamland of gooey warmth and sugar-induced serenity.

That’s how the day was going.

And then... disaster.

My head started to droop.I was losing the battle. The chocolate was winning. Curse you, decadent sweetness!My eyelids grew heavier than Papa’s tax ledgers. I leaned forward—

Thud.

Straight into Papa’s chest.

Papa held and hugged me tighter. His arms were warm.

"Looks like our little princess is sleepy," said Theon with a grin.

Papa nodded like a wise emperor in deep thought. "Call Nerina."

Not long after, Nanny Nerina arrived with Marella skipping beside her like a backup dancer in a royal musical.

"Take her to her chamber," Papa said softly, brushing my bangs aside and pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I’ll be back soon."

BOOM!

Ravick immediately stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. His voice was low and sharp. "Stay here. Don’t move. I’ll check it out."

Uh-huh. Sure. Says the girl shaking so hard I thought she might vibrate through the marble floor.

She knew.Something was very, very wrong.

SLASH!

Marella screamed."Assassins!" she shrieked. "Protect the princess! It’s an assassination attack!"

Ravick’s eyes snapped to Nanny and Marella. "Inform His Majesty. We are under attack! Now! RUN!"

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