Too Lazy to be a Villainess-Chapter 28: A Future Beyond Reach

Marella huffed and puffed, her footsteps crunching on the gravel as she struggled to keep up. "P-Princess... that’s... enough... I... can’t... run... anymore!"

Behind her, a little giggle echoed through the garden.

"Mawella~ Fwaster!" I squealed, my chubby legs carrying me faster than Marella could manage.

My golden curls bounced wildly with each step, and my tiny shoes kicked up bits of dirt as I zoomed across the grass like a hyper squirrel.

"Faster, Marewwa! Fwaster!" I chirped, my words still a little jumbled because, well, I’m almost two years old now. I can talk, run, and walk like a pro—well, a slightly clumsy pro—but words? Yeah, we’re still working on that.

Marella groaned dramatically, bending over and placing her hands on her knees as she gasped for breath. "Princess... have... mercy...!"

Mercy? Pfft. Not in my vocabulary.

I giggled again, spinning in a circle before flopping onto the grass with all the grace of a tiny sack of potatoes. "Marewwa, you too swow!" I huffed, crossing my arms and puffing out my little cheeks.

"S-slow?!" Marella wheezed, finally collapsing beside me on the grass. "Princess, I’ve been chasing you for the last twenty minutes! I’m not slow—I’m just... not two years old!"

I giggled louder. She had a point, but... was that my problem? Nope.

Nothing much had changed since Papa left for the western provinces. Theon and Grandpa Gregor took care of all the boring "Papa’s business" stuff here. And me? I ate, played, and napped—the holy trinity of a lazy princess.

But there was one thing I definitely didn’t do.

Set foot in my nursery.

Nope. Not happening. Ever.

Ever since Papa turned my nursery into his personal photo gallery of doom, I had refused—refused—to go back in there. I mean, how am I supposed to sleep surrounded by a hundred different versions of Papa’s brooding, scary face staring down at me like I owe him money?

No, thank you. Not in this lifetime.

So now, my playtime kingdom had shifted to the gardens, the throne room, and my chamber.

"Princess," Marella sighed, sitting up and wiping her forehead. "Do you want to go inside now? It’s getting chilly, princess."

"Nooooooo," I whined dramatically, rolling over like a pancake. "Stiww pwaying."

"But it’s cold—"

"Pwaying!" I insisted, my chubby little fists pounding on the grass like I was calling forth the gods.

Marella groaned but didn’t argue. Smart move.

"She’s going to catch a cold," she muttered under her breath.

Eh, I’d take my chances.

I was too busy counting the clouds, wondering if Papa was counting the clouds wherever he was. Probably not. Papa was probably counting how many idiots he had to deal with today.

Oh, speaking of idiots—

Those merchant troublemakers.

I may be small, but I’m not stupid. I’ve heard enough to know that Papa had crushed those merchants and whatever chaos they were causing in the western provinces. But the damage they caused? That’s a different story. And now, because of those idiots, Papa and Grand Duke Regis had to stay there until things were stable.

Which means... nobody knows when he’s coming back.

It had been eight months since Papa left, and no one had a clue when he’d be home.

"Princess..." I blinked and looked back, only to see—

"Nawwny!!" I beamed, scrambling to my feet as fast as my tiny legs allowed.

Nanny Nerina. She crouched down and opened her arms, and I ran straight into them, giggling as she scooped me up like I weighed nothing. "It’s time to have lunch, my princess. Aren’t you hungry?"

I pouted dramatically, placing a hand on my tummy as if I were a starved orphan. "Vewy... hungwy..." I mumbled with big, sad eyes that would make anyone melt.

She laughed softly, ruffling my curls. "Let’s go then. Lord Osric is here too."

I froze.

Ugh, Osric.

I scrunched my nose, feeling the sudden urge to fake a stomachache. Osric had become my official playmate after Papa left. Grandpa Gregor always brought him over so I wouldn’t feel lonely.

Osric was... okay, I guess. But—

"Oswic again?" I mumbled, sticking my lower lip out in a dramatic pout.

"Princess..." Nanny Nerina gave me the look. You know, the one that says, Behave, or no dessert after lunch.

Ugh. Fine.

Osric might ditch me in the future, but for now, he was one of the few people I was close with. So... he was annoying, but... I could tolerate him.

For now.

"Awight..." I mumbled, resting my head against Nanny’s shoulder as she carried me inside.

***

As we reached the dining area, there he was. Osric.

Standing all prim and proper, like he was attending some royal banquet instead of a lunch with me. His short brown hair was neatly combed, and his little suit looked like he was about to negotiate a peace treaty between empires.

Ugh. Why was he always so serious? We were kids! He should be running around and eating dirt like the rest of us.

That’s when he noticed me. His brown eyes lit up, and a warm smile spread across his face.

"Greetings to the only princess of the Elarion Empire," he said, bowing like a miniature gentleman.

Pfft. Always so formal.

Nanny put me down gently, and I huffed, crossing my arms as I stomped over to him with all the royal sass I could muster.

"Oswic, why bowing? Didn’t I tell yow to callw me Lavi... when we are awlone?"

I pouted up at him, narrowing my eyes for extra effect.

Osric’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew wider. "Alright."

Hmph. Much better.

Osric had changed a lot too. He wasn’t that scared six-year-old kid anymore, the one who used to flinch at the mere sight of Papa. Nope. Now, he stood a little taller, his expression calm and composed, and he didn’t look like he was ready to run at any second. He looked... brave.

But still annoying.

I may hate him for what he was going to do in the future, but... I couldn’t hate him now. Not yet.

"Let’s have lunch... princess and my lord." Nanny Nerina’s gentle voice interrupted my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing I had been staring at Osric for too long.

I nodded, my tiny tummy rumbling in agreement. "Hungwy..."

Osric chuckled. "I can hear that, Lavi."

Oh, hush.

I waddled over to my seat like a boss, climbing onto my chair with the grace of a potato. Nanny helped me scoot in, and soon, a plate of delicious food was placed in front of me.

"Yum..." I mumbled, picking up my tiny fork and stabbing a piece of roasted carrot like I was fighting off evil.

Osric, ever the little gentleman, sat across from me, eating like a proper noble. I, on the other hand, was busy shoveling food into my mouth like I hadn’t eaten in days. Because who has time for table manners when you’re starving?

"Lavi," Osric spoke up, glancing at me between bites. "Have you been practicing your letters like I showed you?"

Uh-oh.

I froze, mid-bite, a piece of carrot dangling from my fork. Slowly, I blinked at him, trying to come up with an excuse.

"Umm..." I chewed quickly and swallowed. "I... was busy..."

"Busy?" Osric raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

I nodded vigorously, my curls bouncing. "Vewy busy."

"Doing what?"

Think, Lavi. Think.

"Uhh..." I looked around, my eyes landing on Nanny, then Marella, then—aha!—the window. "Counting cwouds!" I blurted it out, proud of my genius excuse.

Osric blinked. Then blinked again.

"...Counting clouds?"

"Yup!" I nodded seriously, as if I had just announced a royal decree. "One... two... many cwouds."

Osric pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. I could see it. His shoulders shook a little, and his eyes sparkled with barely contained amusement.

Hmph. He better not laugh.

"I see..." he murmured, finally schooling his expression. "Well, counting clouds is... very important."

"Vewy impowtant," I echoed with a sage nod.

"But..." He tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You will practice your letters after lunch, right?"

Betrayal.

Letters!

Ugh. Ever since Osric learned how to write, he has been obsessed with sending me letters. At first, I thought it was cute. He would send me little notes with wobbly letters, telling me about his day, asking if I had eaten, and sometimes even drawing silly pictures of the palace.

Then... it happened.

Osric decided I should start sending him letters too.

"Lavi, you don’t have to use words," he had said with that bright-eyed look. "You can draw and tell me how your day was!"

Why? Why did he need to know what I did all day? What was so interesting about me trying to steal sweets from the kitchen or annoying Papa’s knights?

But... I had agreed. Mostly because I was bored and drawing was fun.

At first, it was just silly things—stick figures of me, Theon, grandpa gregor and Osric. But slowly... too slowly for me to notice... Osric started sneaking in lessons.

"Maybe you can add a letter here, Lavi," he’d say sweetly.

"Why not try writing ’sun’ next to the sun you drew?"

"Lavi, wouldn’t it be fun to write ’Theon’ under his picture?"

And before I knew it...

Boom.

Osric had become my teacher. Not officially. But... unofficially? Oh yes. He was definitely my teacher.

Sneaky little Osric.

Now, he wouldn’t let me skip my letters, no matter how many clouds I counted or how many ’important’ princess duties I claimed to have.

I sighed dramatically, my spoon clanking against my plate. "Fiiiine..."

Osric’s grin was full of victory. "Good girl, Lavi."

Hmph. He was lucky I didn’t have food in my mouth, or I would have stuck my tongue out at him.

Oswic... you are so lucky I don’t hate you yet.

I stabbed another carrot, but this time... my hand slowed. The laughter echoing in the dining hall suddenly felt distant, like a dream I was afraid to wake up from. Because I knew... what was coming.

That innocent smile of Osric, will fade away soon.

There was no coldness in his eyes yet, no hollow, lifeless stare. Just warmth. He looked so... alive. Like a normal little boy who was just happy to be here. Happy to have lunch with me. Happy to tease me about my letters.

But... it won’t last long.

I know.

According to the novel... Osric Valerius Everhart’s childhood was anything but warm. It was supposed to be empty. Hollow. And that emptiness was going to swallow him whole after—

The assassin attack at his mansion.

My tiny hand gripped my spoon a little tighter.

The Everhart mansion... the place where Osric should have been safe... would become a nightmare soon.

The thought of it made my chest feel tight, my tiny hands clenching harder around my spoon. I could almost smell the blood in the air, feel the chill of that empty mansion.

I could almost see it—blood. Everywhere. The grand hall that once echoed with laughter would be filled with the screams of dying men. The scent of iron in the air. And Osric... standing in the middle of it all, frozen.

The day Grand Duke Regis and Grandpa Gregor would die protecting him. It wasn’t going to be just any assassin attack. No. It was going to be a massacre.

A carefully planned, large-scale attack that would leave nothing but devastation in its wake.

And Osric...

He would lose everything.

His home. His family.

His childhood.

That day would break him.

The bright-eyed, cheerful boy sitting across from me—the one who smiled so warmly and looked so proud when I agreed to practice my letters—would disappear.

And what would be left... would be a hollow shell.

A boy who would grow up haunted by that night. A boy who wouldn’t sleep because the memories would claw at him every time he closed his eyes. The attack happens in a week after Grand Duke Regis and Papa return from the western provinces. That’s when everything changes.

I blinked, my eyes focusing back on Osric, who was happily munching on his food, completely unaware of the storm that was waiting for him.

I know it’s coming...

But... what could I do?

I’m just a tiny little potato with barely enough strength to hold a fork properly. How was I supposed to stop something so... so big?

My chest felt tight, and for a moment, I forgot about my carrots and letters. I just... watched him.

Osric...

Was there any way to save him?

Could I change this part of the story?

Or was fate too strong... even for me?

I wanted to. But... Interfering too much with the plot... that could cause something, right?

Wasn’t that what always happened in these stories? When the transmigrated person tried to change too much, the world would fight back. Fate had a way of balancing things out, no matter how much someone tried to change it.

But...

It have already changed so much.

Lavinia Devereux was supposed to grow up neglected. Unloved. Invisible to her father and everyone else.

But now...Papa loves me. He dotes on me so much that I sometimes feel like I’m the center of his world.

And it’s not just him.

Nanny Nerina. Marella. Theon. Even Osric.

They all care about me. They all treat me with warmth that Lavinia was never supposed to know.

So... could we change this part of the story too?

Can we?

...

That was the real question, wasn’t it? frёewebηovel.cѳm

Because if I tried to stop the assassin attack... if I saved Osric...

What would happen?

Because...Fate is a tricky thing. Push too hard, and it pushes back harder. I wasn’t ready to find out just how much it could push.

So...It was better not to do anything.

Better not to interfere with the novel’s plot.

I THINK.