Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 365

Chapter 365: Little Closer

[Lavinia’s POV—Haldor’s Old House—The Market Quarter]

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

The world narrowed to a single point: Haldor, on one knee. Dust on the wooden floor. Sunlight slipping through the narrow window like it, too, had paused to listen.

"Marry me, Your Highness."

The words echoed—not loudly, not dramatically—but with a force that split something open inside me.

This was not how proposals were meant to happen. No court. No witnesses. No jeweled rings or rehearsed vows.

Just a small, quiet room that barely held one person—and a man who had offered me everything he was, without asking for my crown in return.

"Haldor..." I whispered.

His spine stayed straight. His gaze never wavered. He looked prepared for rejection, judgment, and consequences—but not regret.

And that terrified me more than the proposal itself.

"You don’t understand what you’re asking," I said softly.

"I do," he replied immediately. "Perfectly, Your Highness."

I swallowed.

"You know, if you marry me," I continued, voice steady only because I forced it to be, "you won’t just be my husband. You’ll be judged. Watched. Questioned. Every victory you earn will be doubted. Every mistake will be magnified. They will say you climbed into power through my bed."

"I know."

"They will never let you forget you were a soldier," I said. "And they will never forgive you for being my husband."

"I know," he said again—gentler this time.

I took a step closer. He still didn’t rise.

"If I fall," I whispered, "you fall with me."

His jaw tightened.

"Then," he said quietly, "I’ll fall standing beside you."

The words struck deeper than I expected.

I went silent.

Slowly, I looked down at him—really looked. Not the captain. Not the soldier shaped by duty. But the man who stood before me now, eyes dark and steady, holding a resolve that felt older than vows and heavier than crowns.

"Don’t say something like that, Haldor," I said softly.

He didn’t look away. Instead, something in his gaze shifted—something I couldn’t yet name. Not desperation. Not blind devotion.

Choice.

He reached for my hand—not possessively, not urgently—but with reverence. Turning it gently, he pressed the back of my hand to his lips, then briefly to his brow, as if grounding himself. As if acknowledging something sacred.

Then he guided my hands up—slow, deliberate—and placed them against his cheeks.

Warm.

Real.

"I know many things will change, Your Highness," he said, voice low but steady. "The moment you choose someone... the moment you choose a husband... the empire will watch every breath he takes."

I didn’t interrupt.

"But you cannot trust the noble houses," he continued. "They will smile, bow, swear loyalty—and the moment your back is turned, they will measure how to use your crown for themselves."

I knew that truth too well.

"You can trust me," he said quietly. "I will never stand against you. Never scheme. Never use your name for power."

His thumbs brushed lightly against my wrists—not a claim, just reassurance.

"And whether General Luke is my father or not," he went on, eyes unwavering, "if he is... then I know this much—he would never raise a son who betrays the woman he chose to protect."

My breath caught.

"So... marry me, Your Highness," he said again—softer now, stripped of bravado. "Not because I want your crown. But because I will never forget my place beside you. I will be very obedient to you, your highness."

The words obedient lingered, but I heard what he truly meant.

Loyal.Unshakeable.Chosen—not bought.

He was right.

Any noble husband would come with daggers hidden behind silk. With expectations, demands, and quiet rebellions.

Haldor would never betray me. And that frightened me more than any treacherous lord ever could.

I exhaled slowly, my hands still resting on his face.

"Give me some time," I said at last.

For a heartbeat, the world held still.

Then he smiled.

Not triumphant. Not hopeful. Just... relieved.

"I’m glad," he said softly, "that you didn’t say no, Your Highness."

I didn’t answer.

I simply looked at him—at the man who had unknowingly placed his heart at my feet and waited without complaint.

Then I withdrew my hands gently.

"Get up," I said, straightening. "We should leave."

He nodded at once, discipline sliding back into place like armor he wore by instinct. "Yes, Your Highness."

But as we stepped toward the door—side by side, close but not touching—I knew something irreversible had already shifted.

I hadn’t accepted his proposal. But I hadn’t rejected it either. And for a crown princess, that hesitation... was already dangerous.

***

[Eloria City Streets—Later]

We thought it was time to head back. That assumption lasted exactly three seconds.

"—Hahaha! I still can’t believe we only brought two horses," Rey said, far too pleased with himself.

We stood in front of our two horses.

Hah...what kind of fucked-up situation is this?

Sera, meanwhile, was loaded. Absolutely loaded. Necklaces draped over her arms, bangles clinking, and rings glittering on fingers that did not belong to her. She looked like a traveling jewelry stall with legs.

"I can go with Her Highness—" Sera began innocently.

Broody?!

Completely dumbfounded. My vision was actively assaulted by too much pink love.

Why do I feel like he knew and planned this?

He was red. Not slightly embarrassed red. Blatantly, undeniably blushing red—ears, neck, and the faint line of his jaw. His posture was immaculate, his expression carefully neutral, but the color betrayed him completely.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify