Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 375

Chapter 375: A Night Before the Announcement

[Lavinia’s POV — Imperial Palace]

"I need you to keep an eye on Count Talvan," I said calmly, fingers resting against the arm of my chair. "And the nobles clustered around him. Especially him."

Rey inclined his head, already thoughtful, already ten steps ahead. Haldor sat beside me—close enough that I could feel the warmth of his shoulder, solid and reassuring.

"I can do that myself if you wish, Your Highness," Haldor offered at once, earnest as ever.

Rey and I turned to him in perfect unison.

"Haldor," I said gently but firmly, "tomorrow is the announcement. You won’t have the luxury of watching shadows."

He blinked. Once. "I... won’t?"

"You’ll be standing beside me as Crown Prince, not as Captain," I continued, meeting his eyes. "You’ll be surrounded by envoys, nobles, council members—"

"And," I added, a faint smile curving my lips, "you’ll be facing my grandfather. And my brothers."

His spine straightened instinctively. "Are... they dangerous?"

Rey snorted before I could answer. "Dangerous? No. Exhausting? Absolutely." He grinned wickedly. "They’re elves. Which means they’re impossibly possessive, painfully dramatic, and will glare at you like you’re a suspicious curse who wandered too close to their precious princess."

Haldor swallowed.

"I see."

Rey clapped him on the shoulder. "Good luck, Captain."

I laughed softly and patted Haldor’s hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. "You survived, Papa," I said lightly. "You’ll survive them too."

Color rushed to his cheeks at the contact. He glanced down at our joined hands, then back at me, nodding with quiet resolve. "Yes, Your Highness."

My smile softened—just a little—before I turned back to Rey.

"I want names," I said. "Every noble aligned with Talvan. Who attends his gatherings. Who benefits from his favor. I want to know who will panic first when things don’t go his way."

Rey nodded, expression sharpening. "Understood. If you allow it, I’ll position members of my magic tower around the palace. Discreetly."

"I don’t mind," I replied. "Just make sure tomorrow doesn’t become... memorable for the wrong reasons. I want no disruptions. No theatrics."

Rey’s gaze drifted, briefly, to the pendant resting at my throat—the one my grandfather Thalein had given me. His eyes darkened with thought.

"I have a feeling," he murmured, "it may prove useful sooner than we expect."

I didn’t respond because I felt it too.

The air was too still. The night was too watchful. Power coiled beneath the palace stones, restless and hungry. Tomorrow, the empire would witness history.

And someone—perhaps several someones—was already sharpening their knives.

I laced my fingers more tightly with Haldor’s. Whatever came next—We would face it together.

***

[Haldor’s POV—Later—Outside the Dawnspire Wing]

"I shall take my leave now, Your Highness," I said, bowing properly.

She stretched like a lazy cat, arms lifting above her head without a care for decorum. "Good night, Haldor."

A faint smile touched my lips. Only her. Only Lavinia could look like that on the eve of a political storm—and still command an empire.

"Good night, Your Highness," I replied.

I turned and walked down the corridor, boots echoing softly against the marble as I exited the Dawnspire Wing. The doors closed behind me, and the warmth of her presence faded.

The night air greeted me cold and sharp.

That was when I felt it. A shift. A disturbance too subtle for ordinary guards. My steps slowed. My expression emptied—no warmth, no softness. The captain returned. The soldier.

"Did you find something?" I asked calmly, without turning.

The shadow behind me peeled itself from the darkness.

He moved silently, like a breath slipping between heartbeats, and knelt with his head lowered. The man I had placed in the deepest layers of the city—far from palace eyes. Far from trust.

"Yes, Your Highness."

I turned then, moonlight catching the edge of my gaze. "Report."

"We observed irregular movements from Lady Sirella Talvan," he said. "Unscheduled. Unescorted."

My jaw tightened slightly. "Irregular how?"

"She has been meeting nobles outside official records," he continued. "Not at estates. Not in salons."

A pause.

"At the auction house."

The word landed heavy.

"An auction house," I repeated quietly.

"Yes. The old one near the river district. Closed to the public at night. She met with three nobles and two unidentified merchants."

Merchants?

I exhaled slowly through my nose. That narrowed things.

"What kind of merchants?" I asked.

The shadow hesitated. "They did not register under guild names. No trade seals. No origin papers."

Foreign, then. Or worse—untraceable.

"And the nobles?"

"Names are being confirmed," he said. "But they entered separately and left separately. No witnesses. No guards."

I looked up at the night sky, stars sharp and distant. This wasn’t greed. This was coordination.

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