Too Lazy to be a Villainess-Chapter 90: Lap Jail: The Princess’s Great Escape

[Lavinia’s Pov]

Being Daddy’s girl is not easy.

Mind you...

NOTTTTTT EASYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You’d think it’s all sugar cookies and sparkly dresses, right?

WRONG.

It’s been an entire day—yes, a FULL, SUNRISE-TO-SUNSET-DRAMATICALLY-DRAWN-OUT-DAY—and guess where I’ve been?

ON. PAPA’S. LAP.

FOR. THE. WHOLE. DAMN. DAY!!!!!!!!!!!

After lunch, I thought—I will follow my daily schedule. I’d go play with Marshi, later watch Osric swinging his sword around like a great knight of the empire, and then sneak up on my other knights, who always pretend they’re bushes while "secretly" guarding me.

Classic hide-n-seek material.

But Papa?

Papa had other plans.

He just scooped me up like a sack of royal potatoes and dragged me back to the throne room.

THE THRONE ROOM.

Now, my tiny royal behind has suffered enough! It’s flat now! My cute, peachy butt is now a soggy pancake. I’m not even sure I have a butt anymore! Is it numb? Is it alive? Do butts go to heaven?!?!

I craned my neck up and glared at Papa like he was the villain in a tragic opera.

I wanted to ask...

Papa, do you have thighs of stone?? Are you carved from marble?? Do your legs not cry for freedom like mine do??!

Because I’m suffering.

And I get it—really, I do! He missed me. He, His Majesty Cassius Devereux, the Almighty Emperor of the Entire Known World, missed his precious, darling daughter for TWO WHOLE DAYS. That’s basically ten years in daddy time. I respect the grief. But this...

This?

This is love-torture. This is lap jail. This is gluteal oppression.

And I can’t take it anymore, so I made a decision.

A brave, rebellious, butt-saving decision.

I jumped.

"FREEDOMMMMMMMMMMMM!" (Okay, I didn’t shout it, but I felt it in my soul.)

I flung myself from his lap like a soldier leaping into battle, landed with a solid toddler thump on the royal marble floor, and strutted forward with the kind of determination only someone with a sore rear can muster.

Behind me, I heard Papa’s voice—deep, low, slightly panicked. "Where are you going?"

I paused mid-strut, turning around slowly like a drama queen returning for her final monologue. With my eyes dead inside and my lips in a perfectly bored line, I said, "To play."

Even I heard the exhaustion in my voice. Not the kind you get from running, no-no-no. This was the exhaustion of a toddler who’d sat through five hours of kingdom updates, Elven kids trafficking, trade route negotiations, and six entire scrolls about border disputes.

Papa stood from his throne—graceful, majestic, and terrifying in his overprotectiveness.

No.

I knew that look.

I saw that familiar "Ah, I shall now scoop up my daughter like a sack of the empire’s most precious potatoes" expression.

He took one noble step forward and said, "I will come—"

And I panicked. freёnovelkiss.com

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

The hall fell into utter silence.

Theon, mid-scroll, froze with his mouth slightly open. Marshi, who had been aggressively licking his paws, stopped mid-lick and blinked slowly. Even the air stood still.

Papa paused. One brow raised. I took a deep breath and pointed at him with all the strength in my five-year-old arm.

"Papa... I know..."

I squinted, trying to remember how to sound very wise and mature. "You will pick me up again, I know it. You always do. I see it in your eyes, Papa. The moment I blink, you scoop me up like I’m made of golden bread."

He said nothing. He just blinked in confusion, and I continued.

"But I wanna walk. I wanna feel the ground with my feetsies. I wanna WADDLE WITH DIGNITY, Papa."

I threw my hands in the air like a street preacher.

"And my butt hurts, Papa."

Then I looked him dead in the eye and finished in a whisper:

"So... if you wanna come..." I jabbed a chubby finger in his direction. "Don’t. Pick. Me. Up."

Papa blinked.

Theon softly muttered, "...I told him to let her play."

Marshi went back to licking his paw.

And Papa... stared at me like I was a strange, fascinating creature who had just declared independence.

Then...

He chuckled.

CHUCKLED.

Like this was funny to him. Like my butt trauma was some kind of entertainment! This man... this tyrant... this thigh-of-steel wielder!

Then he walked toward me and kneeled to my level. Oh no. I braced myself. I knew that glint in his eyes.

He reached out and ruffled my hair. Not just a little tousle—no, no. He gave it the full storm-wind treatment like he was fluffing a chicken.

"Then... Little Majesty," he said with the gravity of a royal decree, "lead the way. But I am coming with you."

I glared at him as I desperately tried to fix the now-disgraced state of my beautiful golden locks.

He stood up, all tall and regal again, and stretched out his hand toward me like a dramatic prince in a fairy tale. "Shall we go?"

I blinked.

Then, very dramatically, I placed my tiny hand in his giant one and gave a slow, solemn nod like I was entering a lifelong contract.

I turned to Marshi and declared, "Marshi... let’s go."

Like the majestic beast he is, Marshi stood up instantly and fell into step behind me. At least someone listens to me around here.

I heard Theon mutter behind us, "She’s becoming brave like him."

Meanwhile, I and Papa walked down the grand hallway like two royals on a mission—me with my little, determined steps and Papa with his long, striding legs that somehow made me feel like a duck waddling beside a horse.

Then Papa asked, "Where do you want to go?"

"Umm... How about the pond?" I said sweetly.

"NO."

I gasped. "What! Why?!"

He raised an eyebrow at me like I just asked to duel a tiger. "Don’t forget you fell in and drowned yourself that one time."

"I DID NOT DROWN—"

"You stopped breathing for seven seconds, Lavinia."

Okay, maybe I almost drowned.

"But—"

"I SAID NO."

Hmph.

Then WHY EVEN ASK ME?!

"Let’s go to the flower garden," Papa said, very calmly, like he hadn’t just crushed my pond dreams into glittery pond sludge.

I sighed, "Alright."

***

[Cassius’s Pov]

As I stepped into the chamber, the scent of night-blooming roses lingered in the air—soft, delicate... just like her.

Nerina stood by the bed, gently tucking the blanket around Lavinia’s small form. The room was bathed in the warm glow of the hearth, shadows flickering across the walls like they were bowing to their true sovereign.

"Did she fall asleep?" I asked, my voice lower, quieter here... in this sanctuary.

Nerina nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. Since the princess played quite a bit today, she fell asleep almost instantly after the bath."

I nodded and moved to her bedside and sat down, gazing at the tiny bundle nestled between pillows far too large for her. Golden curls spilled over her forehead, her little lips parted slightly as she breathed in a steady rhythm.

I reached out, gently patting her head, brushing back a lock of hair that clung to her cheek. She looked peaceful... and far too small to carry the weight of the crown she’d someday inherit.

"I heard the princess yelled at you today," Nerina said carefully, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "Because you carried her to the Throne Room all day."

I smiled faintly—one of those rare ones not forged from command or cruelty.

"She’s my daughter," I said, watching Lavinia’s tiny fingers twitch in sleep, as if chasing a dream. "She has every right in the world... to yell at me."

Nerina said nothing to that. She only looked at me the way one looks at a fire from a distance—warmth from afar, but never close enough to touch.

Then, Theon stepped in, his presence cloaked in quiet authority."Your Majesty," he said with a bow, "Grand Duke Ravick has returned... and the Verellon family has been captured."

My hand stilled on Lavinia’s head.

She shifted slightly in her sleep—then, with a soft sigh, reached for my hand, her small fingers wrapping around mine like a chain made of silk. I let her hold it. She didn’t wake.

"The children?" I asked, my voice now cooled to steel.

"They’ve been rescued. Safe and unharmed," Theon confirmed. "Lord Thalein and Lord Soren are tending to their injuries."

"Good," I said simply, my voice cold and measured. Then I asked, "Did the Verellon family confess to anything?"

Theon gave a subtle shake of his head. "Not yet, Your Majesty... Your presence is required."

I stood slowly, my shadow stretching over her sleeping form like a vow made in flesh and blood. My fingers untangled from hers, gently—carefully—before I turned away.

I adjusted my gloves, my face already changing—father into emperor.

"Then," I said darkly, voice low and unyielding, "let’s deal with those traitors."

Theon gave a nod and stepped aside as I passed.

There would be no mercy tonight.

Not when they dared to harm the innocent.