Too Lazy to be a Villainess novel Chapter 387

Chapter 387: The Dinner and the Holy Temple

[Lavinia’s POV — Emperor’s Chamber—Later]

"A Holy Temple?" Papa repeated, lifting his gaze from the parchment he was signing.

I nodded, watching his steady hand move across the page. "Yes. There has been suspicious magical activity detected in the air. The Magic Tower is not involved—Rey monitors every single mage personally. And in this empire, only two places possess true magic."

Papa leaned back slightly. "The Magic Tower... and the Holy Temple."

"Yes."

He was silent for a moment.

"The Holy Temple has always remained neutral, Lavinia," he said slowly. "They heal the people. They preserve imperial history. They guard the emperor’s diaries. They have never involved themselves in politics."

I looked at him quietly.

He was right. The Holy Temple had always been loyal. Which was exactly why my chest felt uneasy.

"But what if," I asked gently, "a new priest has entered... and he is the one—"

Papa raised a hand, stopping me.

"We have received no report of any new priest," he said. Then his gaze sharpened just slightly. "But... there is no harm in checking."

He signed the parchment and set the pen aside.

"Sometimes," he added calmly, "even the most loyal sword can turn rusty... and break."

I smiled faintly. "Then I will leave tomorrow with Haldor."

Papa nodded, smiling faintly and warmly as he reached out and patted my head.

"Alright."

I softened immediately.

"Shall we go for dinner now?" he asked casually.

I smiled. "Yes. I am very hungry. And... from today onward, Haldor and General Luke will be joining us too."

Papa’s eye twitched. "Tch... alright."

I chuckled and linked my arm with his.

"Come on," I teased gently. "You can glare at them while eating."

He scoffed but allowed himself to be dragged along as we walked together towards the dining chamber.

***

[Haldor’s POV—Outside the Dining Chamber]

The corridor outside the dining chamber was brighter than usual, filled with golden light and the quiet murmur of servants preparing the imperial table.

I was adjusting my cuffs when—

"Haldor."

I turned. Father stood behind me. He walked closer, arms folded, his expression unreadable.

"Is it true," he asked, "that the emperor has agreed to let us join the imperial dinner from today?"

I nodded, a small smile forming. "Yes, Father."

He scoffed softly. "Unbelievable. A tyrant emperor... and an obsessed daughter’s father... agreeing to share a family table."

I chuckled. "I think Lavi forced him emotionally."

Father snorted. "Of course she did."

Then he looked at me properly as I continued, "Since we are part of the family too."

He studied me for a long moment. Then smirked. "Oho... my son has changed a lot."

I glanced at him. "Is that better or worse?"

"Better," he said without hesitation. "Much better."

He paused, then added more softly, "I am glad you found a woman who gave you a place to belong."

His words hit deeper than he realized and smiled faintly.

Father is right; I had grown up in an orphanage.

No name. No lineage. No one to wait for me at night.

And now—I had a wife. An emperor who acknowledged me. A father who stood beside me.

I never believed life would take such a beautiful turn.

I smiled faintly. "I think... she gave me a family before she gave me love."

Luke’s gaze softened.

"And I," he said quietly, "found my son far too late."

I shook my head gently. "You found me when I needed you most."

The guards bowed as we approached the doors. Father straightened, his general’s posture returning, but his voice stayed gentle.

"Whatever happens inside," he said, "remember—you are not walking in as a knight."

I looked at him.

"You are walking in as my son."

My chest tightened. "Yes, Father."

The doors opened. And together, we stepped inside— Not as commander and soldier. Not as general and knight. But as father and son... Finally walking into a family we had both waited for, in different ways.

***

[Haldor’s POV—Imperial Dining Chamber—Moments Later]

I realized too late. Inviting two tyrants to the same table was a political crime. The moment my father, General Luke, took his seat opposite Emperor Cassius, my father-in-law, the air itself became uncomfortable.

They stared.

Not hostile.

Not friendly.

Just... two lions deciding who owned the table.

Emperor Cassius took a sip of wine. Father took a sip of tea.

Then, Emperor Cassius spoke first. "So, you finally decided to acknowledge you have a Tyrant Daughter-in-law."

Luke smiled politely. "And you finally decided to admit you have a son-in-law."

She was about to hold my hand when—"STOP ROMANCING IN FRONT OF US! IT’S PISSING ME OFF!"

The Emperor shot him a lethal glare. "I heard that."

Father lifted his cup calmly. "It was meant to be heard."

The temperature dropped. Forks froze mid-air. Lavinia slowly sipped her water like she was watching a theater performance.

I nearly choked.

Lavinia patted my back. "Breathe, Haldor."

And as both fathers continued exchanging glares, remarks, and accidental confessions of pride, I realized something.

This table wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t calm. It wasn’t dignified.

But it was warm.

It was loud.

It was ridiculous.

And somehow... It was perfect. Because even emperors and generals—When trapped in a family—Were just men learning how to love badly, loudly, and honestly.

***

[The Next Day—Imperial Palace-- Lavinia’s POV]

Sera moved around me quietly, adjusting the folds of my dress with careful hands. Silk brushed against my skin as she tightened a ribbon and smoothed the embroidery near my waist.

"Do you really think the priests are involved, Your Highness?" she asked softly.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

"We will see," I replied calmly. "Truth does not hide forever. It only waits for the right moment to be forced into the light."

Sera paused, then continued adjusting my sleeves. "I wish they were not involved," she said quietly. "But... if they are ..."

I turned slightly, meeting her eyes through the mirror.

"Then the damage will be deeper than politics," I said softly. "Faith, Sera. People forgive kings faster than they forgive gods."

She swallowed.

"But if they are not involved, the question will still remain, your highness," she murmured, "where did the magic spell come from?"

"That," I said, standing up slowly, "is exactly what we are going to find out."

I walked toward the door, my steps measured and unhurried.

"I do not wish the Holy Temple to be dirty," I continued. "But if it is... then every lie buried beneath its altar will surface."

Sera nodded firmly. I reached for the door handle and paused.

"Today," I said quietly, "we are not walking into a place of worship."

I glanced back at her.

"We are walking into a place that may decide whether this empire kneels to faith... or burns under it."

She straightened immediately. "I will stay near you, Your Highness."

As the doors opened and the palace corridors stretched before me, sunlight reflecting against marble like sharpened blades, I felt the shift inside my chest.

I stepped forward. Because whether they were innocent or not—The truth was about to kneel before me.