Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 193

Chapter 193: Hollow Eyes at the Door

[Lavinia’s Pov---Dawnspire Wing—Continuation]

Marshi was still sulking like a giant, fluffy cloud of guilt. His head was lowered, his tail drooping, those big golden eyes shimmering with regret. I crouched down, patting his massive head like I was consoling a toddler who had just dropped his candy.

"There, there, Marshi. It’s okay," I murmured, scratching under his chin. "It’s just a dress, not the end of the world."

(Though, if Papa finds out, it might be the end of the world. For me. Not for Marshi. Because it’s hard to convince sulky tyrant.)

I was still patting him when my gaze wandered to the tea set on the table. The untouched cup sat there, steamless, cold. I blinked at it. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"...Oh." I tilted my head. "The tea’s cold."

Then I blinked at tea.

Then at Marshi.

Marshi blinked back, head tilted in confusion.

And then—oh, it was like the most wicked idea hatched right there in my tiny, mischievous brain. I smirked. Slowly. Deliberately.

Marshi froze. His ears twitched back. His pupils shrank. He knows.

I leaned closer, lowering my voice dramatically. "Marshi... do you think... you could re-heat my tea?"

The poor divine beast went into absolute statue mode. Just... a blank stare. Like, did this tiny human just mock my uncontrollable powers?

I had to suppress my laughter, though my lips quirked. But his expression was so priceless that I burst out laughing.

"Hahaha—oh no, don’t look at me like that!" I burst out laughing, flopping back onto the carpet. "I was kidding! I swear! Hahahaha—"

Too late.

With a loud huff, Marshi launched himself at me like a giant, offended cat. One second I was laughing; the next, I was flat on my back, buried under warm, fluffy fur while my divine beast decided to smother me into submission.

"MARSHI! I CAN’T BREATHE! HAHAHA STOP—NOOO—"

"Your highness?" Sera’s voice came from somewhere above, dry as toast. She was holding a tray and staring at us like this was just another Tuesday. "Well... your highness isn’t exactly wrong. Marshi can re-heat food. It’s quite convenient, actually."

Marshi froze mid-lick.

I tilted my head back from underneath him and grinned, my cheeks squished by fur. "SEE? I KNEW IT!"

That was apparently the last straw because Marshi gave a low, offended growl and began licking my face with all the determination of a beast on a mission.

"GAH—HAHAHAHA STOP! YOUR BREATH SMELLS LIKE FISH! STOP IT, MARSHI! STOP IT!"

And that was the exact moment the door creaked open.

"Lavinia."

...Oh no.

I froze. Marshi froze. Even Sera froze.

Slowly, I turned my head. Standing in the doorway, arms crossed, one brow raised, was Papa. Emperor Cassius. The Scary-but-Actually-Soft Papa.

He surveyed the scene: his daughter rolling on the carpet, pinned by a divine beast, face shiny with slobber. Then he exhaled and said, voice smooth but oh-so-deadly, "Seems like my daughter has... a lot of free time."

My soul left my body.

"P-Papa, this is not what it looks like!"

He smirked. SMIRKED. That was never a good sign.

"Perfect," he said casually, strolling toward me. "Since you’re so free, you can help me with the documents."

"W-Wait—WAIT!"

Too late. He scooped me up like a sack of potatoes, tossed me over his shoulder, and started walking.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" My screams echoed down the corridor. "PAPA, NO! THE DOCUMENTS ARE BORING! I’M TOO YOUNG TO SUFFER!!!"

Behind us, I swear I heard Sera sigh and Marshi purr smugly. Traitors. Both of them.

Papa, completely unaffected by my wailing, marched on like a general dragging a war prisoner.

"Theon and I have been staring at numbers and treaties until our eyes are ready to fall out," he said, voice calm but merciless. "Meanwhile, my daughter, the supposed jewel of the empire, is laughing on the carpet with a divine beast. The empire cannot afford such luxury. You must work. Now."

"I OBJECT!" I slumped over his shoulder like a very dramatic dead fish. "THIS IS CHILD LABOR! A CRIME! SOMEONE ALERT THE NOBLE COUNCIL! I DEMAND A LAWYER!"

***

[Imperial Palace—Emperor’s office--Later]

..... And that’s how I ended up trapped in Papa’s office, sulking like a tragic koi fish that lost its pond. My beautiful hands flipped through endless stacks of documents, each page heavier than my soul.

Sigh. Sigh. Siiiiiigh.

I leaned back in my chair, smirking. "...Can I take a holiday too?"

"Absolutely not."

I groaned, loud and theatrical. "Oppression! Pure tyranny! I—"

KNOCK. KNOCK.

The door opened, and my heart practically skipped. "Greetings, Your Majesty. Crown Princess," Osric said, his voice steady but carrying that faint warmth I always caught when he spoke to me. "I heard the princess was here."

I was on my feet so fast the chair screeched against the marble. "Osric! Yes—Papa dragged me here like a prisoner. Come insi—"

"Osric."

The sound of Papa’s voice froze me mid-sentence. Cold. Sharp. Like a blade unsheathed.

I turned. He wasn’t even looking at me—his eyes were locked on Osric, glacial and burning all at once. The air seemed to drop ten degrees.

"Stay out. Wait for her," Papa said, each word clipped, final.

My head whipped toward him. "What? Why? Papa, that’s ridiculous—Osric’s always—"

"Lavinia." Just my name, but it was enough to snap my mouth shut. His glare landed on me this time—heavy and warning—and it made my chest tighten. He wasn’t just annoyed. He was angry.

I turned back to Osric, desperate to fix the awkwardness. "Osric, it’s fine, just come—"

Papa’s voice cracked like thunder. "I said, stay out. You are her guard. Nothing more. Your place is at the door, not at her table."

Something in me flinched. That tone wasn’t his usual teasing strictness. It was cold authority, the Emperor, not my father.

Osric didn’t move. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes... there was something in them. A shadow. He bowed, low and perfect, but his voice was quieter this time. "Understood, Your Majesty. Forgive my overstep."

And just like that, he left.

The door clicked shut, and I swear the sound hurt more than it should have. My heart clenched painfully at the memory of his eyes. They looked... empty. Hollow.

I rounded on Papa, anger bubbling. "Why would you do that? He’s done nothing—"

"Lavinia." He didn’t even look at me. "I will not repeat myself. I hope you won’t argue with me—for someone else."

The weight of his voice pressed down on me like iron. I clenched my fists, my lips trembling with words I didn’t dare say. Instead, I sat back down, spine stiff, and muttered, "...Yes, Papa."

But inside, I was boiling and hurt to see him hurt.