Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 361

Chapter 361: The Missing Captain

[Lavinia’s POV—Dawnspire Wing—Later]

The room smelled faintly of ink and old parchment.

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows in pale ribbons, catching dust motes that drifted lazily—mocking how violently the night had unraveled. I stood near the table, arms crossed, jaw tight, while Rey paced slowly, fingers flicking through the teacup.

"So," I said at last, breaking the silence, my voice sharper than I intended, "what did you find out?"

Rey stopped. His expression shifted—no humor, no arrogance. Just gravity.

"The daughter of House Valencourt," he said carefully, "died in a carriage accident."

My breath stilled.

"A carriage accident?" I asked.

"Yes, that’s right," he replied. "Her child was four years old when she finally succumbed. Fever. Internal injuries. Old wounds that never healed properly."

My fingers curled against my sleeves.

"...Four," I murmured.

Rey nodded. "Yes. And before you ask—yes, the coincidence is far too precise to ignore."

I closed my eyes briefly. The image rose unbidden: a boy with blue eyes, standing too straight for his age, carrying grief he never spoke of.

"So," I said quietly, "we can assume she was Haldor’s mother."

"Well..." Rey tilted his head, ever the careful one, "...yes. All signs point that way."

I turned toward him slowly. "All signs?"

"She married an Astreyon knight," Rey continued. "A man stationed near the southern hills. Records are scarce—deliberately so—but the marriage is real. Verified by three separate registries."

My chest tightened.

"And while they were returning," he went on, voice low, "to visit the Valencourt family... the carriage rolled down a hill."

Silence fell.

Not sudden. Not sharp.

The kind that sinks into your bones.

"...rolled down the hill, huh?" I said.

Rey’s mouth curved faintly. Not a smile. "That’s what the report says."

I let out a long breath and leaned back against the table, staring at nothing.

"So this is Haldor," I whispered. "This is his story."

A stolen childhood. A buried lineage. A life cut and reshaped by lies.

"And that means," I added slowly, my gaze hardening, "we can be sure that Luke is his father."

Rey met my eyes. "We can say that with... reasonable certainty."

"Reasonable isn’t enough," I replied coldly.

He nodded immediately. "Which is why we still need confirmation."

"Blood," I said.

"Yes," Rey replied. "Blood mixing. Old magic. Painfully honest."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. Everything was converging too fast—too cruelly. Just as Haldor vanished. Just as the truth finally surfaced.

"If Luke is his father," I said quietly, "then I want them reunited as soon as possible."

Rey’s gaze softened. "Of course you do."

Before he could say more—SLAM.

The sound exploded down the hallway.

Then—ROOOOLLLLL—something heavy tumbled, clattering against stone. I straightened instantly. Rey was already moving.

"I’ll check," he said sharply, striding toward the door.

I nodded once.

Seconds stretched.

He returned, brows drawn together. "There’s no one."

"No guards?" I asked.

"No servants. No footsteps fading. Nothing."

I frowned. Then exhaled slowly. "Maybe it was Marshi... or Solena. They’ve been restless since last night. Probably playing again."

Rey hesitated, then nodded. "Perhaps."

But the air felt... wrong.

He turned back to me. "Should I begin preparing the blood-mixing ritual?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "Do it."

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. "And Rey—be discreet. If Luke truly is his father, I don’t want this turning into a spectacle."

He inclined his head solemnly. "Understood."

I looked toward the window, toward the pale sky that had watched Haldor disappear.

"If Luke is his father," I repeated softly, "then Haldor deserves the truth. He deserves his family. And he deserves it now—before this empire steals anything else from him."

Rey’s voice was quiet when he answered. "I’ll make sure the truth finds him... wherever he is."

I clenched my fists.

Wherever he is.

That was the part I couldn’t bear.

"Go," I said. "Prepare everything."

"Yes, Your Highness."

He left, robes whispering behind him. I remained standing alone in the Dawnspire Wing, staring at the door long after it closed—heart pounding, mind racing.

"Haldor," I whispered into the quiet, "hold on just a little longer."

Because the truth was finally chasing him, and I intended to reach him first.

***

[The Next Day—Lavinia’s Chamber]

"Do we have another council meeting today?" I asked, standing near the mirror as dawnlight spilled softly across the room.

Sera nodded while fastening the clasp of my cloak. "Yes, Your Highness. The nobles are already gathering. Early. Eager."

I clicked my tongue. "Of course they are." I lifted my arms so she could settle the fabric properly over my shoulders. "I really don’t want to deal with them today. After the last council, all they managed to do was irritate me."

Sera chuckled softly, adjusting the fall of the cloak with practiced hands. "Well... they weren’t entirely wrong, Your Highness."

That made me pause.

I turned my head slightly. "Meaning?"

She hesitated, then spoke carefully, like someone stepping onto thin ice. "You are the only one who can carry on the Devereux line." She smiled gently. "Just like the... second princess."

That stopped me cold.

Her.

Of course they are.

No—that was wrong.

Where are you, Haldor?

And why did the palace suddenly feel too quiet without you?

Where are you, Haldor?

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