Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 377

Chapter 377: "Father-in-Law"

[The Ballroom—Lavinia’s POV — Imperial Palace]

The ballroom held its breath.

Crystal chandeliers burned like captured stars above us, their light spilling over silk, steel, and carefully schooled faces. I stood beside Haldor—his presence solid, warm, and real—while Papa remained utterly still before the throne.

Too still.

The nobles kept glancing at him. At Ravick. At one another. Whispers threatened the edges of the room but never dared cross into sound.

Ravick stepped forward at last, voice steady. "Your Majesty... it is time for the announcement."

Grandpa Thalein leaned toward me from where he stood, muttering under his breath like a curse disguised as a prayer. "Don’t do it... don’t do it, Cassius."

Papa didn’t move. I turned my head slightly, smiling up at him—soft, coaxing, dangerous. "Papa..."

He looked at me.

And sighed.

A long, deeply offended sigh, as though the universe itself had personally betrayed him.

"I hate this," he muttered. "I hate everything...I feel like ending the world."

Then he stepped forward.

The air shifted.

Papa’s glare swept across the hall like a drawn blade. Nobles straightened instantly, spines stiff, smiles freezing into place. He opened his mouth—

"As you all know," he began, voice cold and unmistakably imperial, "today we are gathered for an announcement."

A pause.

"I did not wish to invite you all," he continued flatly, eyes narrowing, "but tradition insists I tolerate your presence."

A few nobles stiffened. I bit back a smile.

He cleared his throat, clearly restraining himself. "So—today, I announce that my daughter," his gaze flicked to me, sharp and possessive, "your Crown Princess Lavinia Devereux—has chosen her groom."

A ripple ran through the hall.

"Haldor Valethorn," Papa said, each syllable carved in stone, "Captain of the Imperial Knights."

Gasps broke free this time—uncontrolled, genuine. I felt Haldor’s breath hitch beside me. His hand tightened around mine, just slightly.

Papa continued, voice rising—not warm, not gentle, but absolute. "By my authority as Emperor, I recognize him as the future Crown Prince of this empire."

Silence.

"What? A captain?"

I thought it was just a rumor that the captain and princess were close."

"Is that why she moved hierachy for him?"

"It can be...possible."

Then... Papa raised his wine glass, saying, "Cheers to my daughter and... her fiancé."

And then all the nobles bowed. Deep. Immediate. Unquestioning.

"We congratulate the Crown Princess and Crown Prince of the Empire," the nobles said in unison, voices echoing beneath the vaulted ceiling.

Applause followed—measured at first, then swelling, filling the hall like a tide that could no longer be held back.

I smiled faintly.

Haldor stood beside me, shoulders squared, expression calm—but his eyes betrayed him. Awe. Pride. A touch of disbelief.

Papa leaned closer to us, lowering his voice so only we could hear. "If he so much as makes you frown," he warned, not looking at Haldor, "I will burn continents."

Haldor swallowed. "...Understood, Your Majesty. I will make sure the continents are safe."

I laughed softly. Because beneath the tyranny, beneath the ceremony, beneath the empire watching with bated breath—This was real.

And tonight, the empire learned something vital: The Crown Princess had chosen her crown prince and the Emperor—however grudgingly—had accepted.

***

[Emperor Cassius’s POV — Imperial Ballroom—Continuation]

I sat upon my throne.

Not relaxed.

Not dignified.

Seething.

My fingers clenched around the goblet hard enough that I half-expected the metal to surrender out of fear alone. Below me—on my ballroom floor—my daughter was smiling.

Smiling.

Dancing.

With another man.

"Aww... they look so cute—" I shot Theon a glare sharp enough to qualify as a military maneuver.

He froze mid-sentence. Swallowed. Closed his mouth. Sensible man.

My gaze dropped again, unwillingly, treacherously, to where Lavinia stood. My Lavinia. The child I raised with iron and fire. The girl who learned to walk beside a throne before she learned to run. The crown I guarded with my life—

Now laughing softly as that bastard dared to place a hand at her waist.

"That insolent—" I muttered darkly. "How dare he take my daughter away. I should crush him. Right now. Publicly. Poetically."

Beside me, I felt three separate waves of murderous intent. Soren’s arms were crossed so tightly I was surprised his bones hadn’t snapped. Lysandre’s stare could have frozen hell itself. And Thalein—

Thalein leaned forward, eyes glowing faintly.

"Should I send him to another dimension?" he murmured, thoughtfully. "Just temporarily."

Rey, traitor that he was, chuckled and patted Thalein’s shoulder. "Easy there. That violates at least twelve laws of nature and every rule of magic. Also, Lavinia would be very upset."

Thalein clicked his tongue. "Pity."

Theo leaned closer to me, trying—and failing—to sound reasonable. "Come now, Your Majesty. You already gave your permission. What’s the point of sulking?"

I turned slowly.

Coldly.

"I was forced," I said, voice low and venomous. "She blackmailed me."

Ravick raised a brow. "Blackmailed you?"

"Yes," I snapped. "She said she would run away with him. On a white horse. I hate white horses."

A collective gasp rippled along the throne line.

"Do you have any idea," I continued, voice rising, "what that does to a father’s soul? A white horse. In public. With witnesses. Songs. Ballads."

Thalein winced. "That’s cruel."

"Monstrous," Lysandre agreed solemnly.

"I raised her better than this," I growled. "Or worse. I raised her exactly like this."

Ravick smiled gently, infuriatingly calm. "Then give them your blessing, Your Majesty. It’s not as though she’s leaving your side."

I looked down again.

Soft. Certain. Still mine.

She was still my daughter.

***

[Haldor’s POV — Continuation — Imperial Ballroom]

I glanced around after the dance, my heart still racing—not from the music, but from her. She was speaking with her attendants now, radiant, composed, and entirely herself. I allowed myself one last look before turning away.

"Haldor."

Advancing.

Which somehow made it worse.

"If you ever," he said slowly, "ever cheat on my daughter—if you so much as think of having another woman—"

"I will execute you immediately."

"You will be executed if you make her cry."

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