Too Lazy to be a Villainess-Chapter 408: The Two Lives she is Carrying

[Lavinia’s POV—One Year Before—Two Months After the Coronation]

After taking the throne, life became... busy.

Endlessly busy.

Meetings that never ended. Laws that needed rewriting. Nobles who needed scaring at least once a week. But somewhere between executions and reforms, life also became soft.

I had more time with Haldor. Real time. Morning arguments over reports, stolen kisses between council sessions, evenings where we simply existed together.

Papa, unfortunately, sulked.

A lot.

He sulked about Haldor. He sulked about me not eating enough. He sulked about the throne "stealing" his daughter.

And then—one day—

SLAM!!!!!!

The door to my chamber nearly flew off its hinges. "You CRAZY BASTARD—WHY DID MY DAUGHTER FAINT—"

Papa stormed in mid-roar, and then he froze.

Haldor stood near the bed, mouth hanging open like his soul had temporarily left his body. Sera was pressed against the wall, hand over her mouth, shaking with laughter. The palace physician stood awkwardly nearby, smiling so brightly it was almost suspicious.

Papa slowly looked around.

"...What," he said darkly, "is this odd environment?"

His glare sharpened.

"And why," he continued, "is it pissing me off?"

Haldor swallowed.

Hard. I pushed myself up against the pillows, unable to resist the smirk curling onto my lips.

"Well," I said sweetly, "looks like it’s time you chase some kids around, Papa." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

Silence, dead and absolute.

Papa blinked.

"...What nonsense."

Then—the words hit him. His eyes snapped to me, then to the doctor. Then—slowly, very slowly—to Haldor. The room temperature dropped by ten degrees.

"...You," Papa said softly.

Haldor stiffened like a soldier awaiting execution. Papa lunged, and he grabbed Haldor by the collar and yanked him forward with terrifying strength. "HOW DARE YOU MAKE MY DAUGHTER PREGNANT—"

I flinched.

Internally.

I really thought he’d be happy...

Sera burst out laughing. "I think he is happy, Your Majesty—just—"

"NOW BECAUSE OF YOU," Papa roared, shaking Haldor, "MY DAUGHTER WILL SUFFER PAIN, MOOD SWINGS, CRAVINGS, AND—AND—"

He released Haldor abruptly.

Haldor nearly collapsed on the spot, still processing the word pregnant.

"CALL THE PRIESTS!" Papa shouted. "I WANT EVERY OUNCE OF PAIN TRANSFERRED TO THIS BASTARD! "

The doctor coughed.

Sera lost it completely. I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh as Haldor slowly turned to me, eyes wide, hands trembling.

"...Lavi," he whispered. "We’re—"

I smiled faintly.

"Congratulations," I murmured gently. "Father-to-be."

His face turned crimson; he clenched his fists, looking equal parts terrified and overwhelmed—and completely, utterly happy.

Papa crossed his arms, still glaring.

"...I will personally supervise this pregnancy," he declared. "One tear from her, and I execute someone."

Sera wiped her eyes. "I’ll prepare the nursery."

The doctor nodded enthusiastically. "Kids run in strong bloodlines—"

"DON’T YOU DARE," Papa snapped.

I leaned back into the pillows, heart full, lips aching from smiling. Empire secured. Monster crowned. And now—Chaos.

Perfect, beautiful chaos.

***

[Later—Lavinia’s Chamber]

Haldor slept on my lap, his arms wrapped around my waist as if the world might steal me if he loosened his grip even for a moment. His breathing was slow now, calmer than it had been all day. I ran my fingers through his hair, ruffling it gently, letting the quiet settle around us like a promise.

He stirred, eyes fluttering open, and without fully waking, he leaned down, pressing a reverent kiss just above my abdomen—careful, tender, almost afraid to disturb the miracle forming there.

"I can’t believe," he murmured softly, voice thick with emotion, "we’re really going to be parents, Lavi."

I smiled, my chest tightening in a way power and crowns never managed to do.

He lifted his head and sat up, moving closer until his forehead rested against mine. Then he kissed my forehead—slow, grateful, grounding.

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for trusting me with something so precious, for giving me a blessing I never knew I was allowed to ask for."

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into my chest, holding him the way I wished the world had held him when he was younger.

"We’ll do this together," I said quietly. "Not as Empress and Emperor. Not as rulers. Just like us."

He nodded against me, tightening his embrace.

"I promise," he said. "No matter how heavy the crown becomes, no matter how loud the empire gets—I will always come back here. To you. To our child."

I rested my chin on his head, breathing him in.

"Let’s be good parents, Haldor," I murmured. "Let’s make sure our children grow up knowing they are loved before they ever learn what power is."

He smiled softly, eyes closing again as if the weight of the day had finally released him.

"Yes," he said. "Let them grow up knowing warmth first. Safety. Laughter."

His hand shifted slightly, protective, reverent.

"And let them know," he added, voice barely above a whisper, "that their mother is the strongest woman in the world—and the kindest."

I laughed quietly, pressing a kiss into his hair.

Outside, the palace hummed with an empire at rest. Inside, wrapped in silk and candlelight, we sat together—no crowns, no fear, no battles left for the night.

Just two people holding the future between them.

And for the first time since I took the throne, the weight I carried didn’t feel heavy at all.

But hope, I learned, could still hurt.

At first, it was small things.

Dizziness that lingered too long. Fatigue that sleep could not cure. A constant ache beneath my ribs that no healer could fully explain. I dismissed it—as I dismissed everything else that threatened to slow me down.

An empress does not falter.

Until one morning, my vision went white.

I remember Haldor’s arms catching me before the floor did. I remember his voice calling my name, over and over, as if volume alone could anchor me to the world.

And then—darkness.

When I woke, the chamber was too quiet. No papers rustling. No Marshi’s low rumble. No bells from the city beyond the windows.

Only whispers.

"Healing spells are stabilizing her... but barely."

"She should not be standing this often."

"The strain is... unusual."

I tried to speak, but my throat burned.

Then I heard it.

A single sentence—spoken softly, carefully, as if the words themselves might break something sacred.

"Her Majesty is carrying two children, Emperor."

Silence followed.

A dangerous silence. Haldor’s breath caught so sharply I felt it even before I opened my eyes.

"Two...?" he whispered. "Two?"

Papa said nothing at first. When he finally spoke, his voice was no longer that of a tyrant but of a father terrified of losing his child.

"Explain."

The physician swallowed. "The pregnancy is rare. Twin heirs place extraordinary strain on the body—especially one already burdened by magic, contracts, and divine bonds."

Haldor stepped closer to the bed. I felt his hand close around mine, trembling.

"What does that mean?" he demanded. "Say it clearly."

The physician hesitated.

"It means," he said carefully, "that Her Majesty’s strength is being divided. The children are drawing from her life force faster than her body can replenish it."

I opened my eyes then.

Every voice stopped.

Haldor noticed first.

"Lavi," he breathed, relief and fear crashing together. "Don’t—don’t move."

I tried to smile. It came out weak.

"So," I murmured hoarsely, "they’re greedy already."

Haldor laughed once—and it broke into something dangerously close to a sob.

"Two," he whispered again, pressing his forehead to my hand. "We’re... we’re having two."

Papa turned sharply. "This is not a blessing if it kills you."

The room went still. I tightened my grip on Haldor’s fingers.

"It won’t," I said quietly.

The physician shook his head. "Your Majesty... we must be honest. The complications may worsen. Fainting spells. Loss of strength. Prolonged unconsciousness if her body cannot sustain—"

"Enough," Papa snapped. "Fix it."

The physician lowered his gaze. "We will do everything we can. But she must rest. No councils. No executions. No rulings."

I scoffed weakly. "You want me to abandon my empire?"

Haldor’s voice cut through the room, low and shaking with a fury I had never heard from him before.

"I don’t care about the empire."

Everyone froze.

He turned to Papa, eyes burning.

"I don’t care about the throne. Or tradition. Or prophecy," he said. "I care about her. If ruling costs her life, then let the world burn."

Papa stared at him for a long moment.

Then—slowly—he nodded.

"For once," he said quietly, "I agree."

I squeezed Haldor’s hand.

"Hey," I whispered. "I’m still here."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead to mine, his voice barely holding together.

"Stay," he begged. "Please... just stay."

I closed my eyes, breathing through the ache in my chest, through the strange, overwhelming pull inside me—two heartbeats that were not mine, yet belonged to me completely.

"I will," I promised softly. "I didn’t survive wars, poison, and gods... just to lose to my own children."

A faint smile touched his lips.

Outside the chamber, the empire waited. Inside, the battle had already begun.

Not for a throne.

But for three lives bound together—by love, by blood, and by a future that refused to come easily.