Chapter 43: When Etiquette Dies and Marshmallows Hatch

Words : 1550 Updated : Sep 21st, 2025

Begin Chapter 43 of "Too Lazy to be a Villainess" with: Chapter 43: When Etiquette Dies and Marshmallows Hatch "WHAT?!" I gasped loudly. "Papa, you can’t just ban... Find out more!

Chapter 43: When Etiquette Dies and Marshmallows Hatch "WHAT?!" I gasped loudly. "Papa, you can’t just ban greetings!" I flailed my arms like I was trying to smack the nonsense out of the air. "That’s not how etiquette works!" Papa didn’t even blink. "I’m the Emperor." "That doesn’t mean you can change history!" "It means I can change the future," he said, ominously, like he was announcing a new era of tyranny. "And we’re starting with that barbaric lip-to-hand nonsense." I stared at him. This man. This delusional, overly dramatic man. How can he say things like that with the poise of a philosopher and the logic of a watermelon? I spun toward Ravick, my last, desperate hope. "Ravick! Please! Say something!" He didn’t even hesitate. "I agree with His Majesty, my princess." ... I blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. ...ARE THESE PEOPLE OKAY?! DID SOMEONE PUT SOMETHING WEIRD IN THEIR TEA THIS MORNING! That’s when the door opened, and Theon strolled in holding a scroll—completely unaware he was walking into diplomatic insanity. "Theon!" I cried, reaching toward him like a damsel spotting a lifeboat made of sarcasm and functioning brain cells. He blinked. "What’s wrong, princess?" "Papa’s gone mad. He’s malfunctioning. He’s completely lost his brain!" Theon’s eyes darted toward Papa, then back to me. He smiled with the weariness of a man who had seen things. "I know that, princess." Papa glared at him like he was deciding between execution or exile. Theon coughed into his fist. "...I mean, yes. But what specifically this time?" I jabbed a finger at Papa like I was presenting Exhibit A in a courtroom drama. "He wants to ban the hand-kissing greeting tradition!" Theon just... stared. Processing... Buffering... And then—"WHAT! Your Majesty, have you completely lost it?!" Finally. Validation. "Please tell me this is a joke," Theon added, glancing around like hidden jesters would pop out with ’April Fools’ signs. Papa, face as blank and serious as an imperial edict, said, "It’s an outdated custom. Unnecessary. Too much physical contact." "It’s a sign of respect! " Theon argued. "It’s part of diplomacy! It’s older than this castle!" "It’s a threat," Papa snapped. "They’re touching her." I threw my hands up. "It’s a hand, not a National Treasure!" "It is a national treasure!" he thundered, eyes blazing with righteous fury. I gasped. "Papa!! You can’t say things like that in public! Do you want people to abduct me?!" Ravick, still looking like a particularly serious gargoyle, muttered, "Anyone who attempts to abduct the princess will cease to exist." Wow... I can’t believe this is the energy I am surrounded by. Theon sighed like he aged ten years in ten seconds. "Should I throw myself out the window now, or after the council hears about this?" We’ll jump together, Theon. Theon groaned. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, you cannot change centuries of tradition just because you feel threatened by handshakes. What’s next? Are you going to change marriage customs too? One day the princess will have to get married—are you going to change that too?" Yes! Good point, Theon. I turned to look at Papa. But instead of calming him down... Papa froze. Then he narrowed his eyes. Then mumbled, darkly, "Marriage?" Oh no. Oh no, no no. Don’t tell me, he— "You’re saying my daughter has to get married? One day?" I mean... eventually? Not now, of course. I’m like—a toddler. But in the future, I have to. "Yes, your majesty." Theon said, cautiously. "In like... twenty-four years? When our princess is ready? When the stars align and world peace is achieved? She has to, your majesty." His expression darkened like a thundercloud. "To whom? Who dares think they’re worthy?" "Papa—" "No. Absolutely not. She’s not getting married. And how dare you say such vile things in front of me?" Papa’s voice dropped into that deadly Emperor tone—low, cold, and full of incoming policy changes. Then, with the calm of a man who had completely lost his mind, he added,"I’ll just change the law. Make it illegal to propose to her." "WHAT THE—PAPA!!" I yelped like he’d just declared war on romance itself. Forget the hand-kissing ban. That was ridiculous, yes—but this? This was a crime against my entire future. He was trying to make me single forever?! What did love ever do to him? Thankfully, Theon—our last line of defense against royal madness—stepped in and somehow managed to reason with him. Probably with the same tone one uses to talk a nobleman down from fencing a tree. "Alright, I get it," Papa grumbled, rubbing his temple like we were the ones giving him a headache. "Stop eating my brain." And just like that, the first crisis of the day was averted. But me? I was spiraling. Because while the ancient etiquette survived, I was sitting there thinking: What about my love life?! Papa had declared emotional martial law. While I should’ve been worrying about people kissing my hand—I was now genuinely panicking about never getting to hold anyone’s hand. Ever. For the rest of my life. My romance life wasn’t just on pause—it had been arrested, thrown in prison, and sentenced without trial. Papa was going to legally enforce my eternal singlehood. And the scariest part? He could actually do it. Papa, the most powerful man in the empire, was ready to draft a law that would outlaw my romantic future. Meanwhile, I was sitting here wondering if I’d ever even get to wink at someone without triggering a national emergency. Just as I was slipping deeper into my tragic daydream of eternal singleness, a sharp knock echoed at the doors. A royal guard stepped in, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, there’s something... unusual happening in the treasure room." Huh? The treasure room? What now? Papa frowned. "What do you mean by unusual?" The guard hesitated, clearly unsure how to phrase it without sounding like a lunatic. "Something glowing inside, Your Majesty." Papa’s brows furrowed. Theon’s eyes snapped to attention, and he immediately looked alarmed. Without a word, we all began walking—well, striding with purpose—toward the treasure room. It was tucked away in one of the palace’s inner wings, highly secured, and strictly off-limits to everyone except the royal family and Theon—since he was the one who kept track of everything from priceless artifacts to the number of dessert spoons. As the heavy doors creaked open, a soft shimmer of golden light spilled from the darkened room. We all froze. "Whoa..." I breathed, taking a cautious step forward. In the center of the room, resting on a velvet pedestal, was the golden egg—the one Grand Duke Regis had gifted me on my first birthday. I had almost forgotten about it in the whirlwind of chaos. But now... It was cracking. And glowing. I stepped forward in pure, sparkly-eyed excitement, only for Papa to stretch out an arm like a one-man barrier. "Lavinia. Stay back." "But Papa—it’s mine!" I huffed, trying to peek around him. He narrowed his eyes at the egg like it owed him money. "We don’t know what’s inside. It might attack you." I blinked at him. He sounds like he’s going to hatch a chicken assassin. And then—crack. A sliver of golden shell peeled away. Crack. Another piece fell, revealing something shimmery beneath. We all leaned forward in unison, collectively holding our breath as the final crack split the egg completely. A blinding light flared and then— Something moved inside. Something small. Something... fuzzy? I squinted, blinking away the dazzle until my eyes adjusted. And there it was. Sitting in the center of the broken shell, blinking up at us with huge, sparkly amber eyes... "...A kitten?" I gasped. Not a dragon. Not a griffin. Not a winged beast of legend. Just a normal kitten. Tiny. Round. Fluffy. With ears a little too big and fur that shimmered faintly under the light. It tilted its head at me, let out a tiny squeaky meow, and then— Its tail glowed. Wait. That was not a normal kitten who just wanders around the palace. Its fur sparkled like starlight, and faint stripes—more like ancient runes than mere markings—ran along its legs and back. Its little paws shimmered with warmth every time they touched the velvet below, as if glowing with a soft, magical heat. The tail, long and elegant, gave off a gentle, ethereal glow, curling like wisps of smoke in the air. It looked more like a baby magical tiger than anything else. But... whatever it was... It was so cute~! Theon, who had been staring in stunned silence, finally blinked and exclaimed, "It’s a magical beast, Your Majesty. They’re supposed to be extinct." I blinked. I see. Is that why it came out of an egg? And just as I processed this, the kitten let out another loud MEOW~~~, wobbling out of the shell. It was adorable, but then—tragedy struck. The little creature tripped over its own oversized paw and face-planted right into the velvet. I screamed, instinctively leaping forward, "PRECIOUS!" Before anyone could stop me, I scooped it up into my arms, cradling it like the delicate treasure it was. Fluffy. Warm. Slightly glowy. My heart combusted. "I’m naming it Marshmallow," I declared with absolute authority, as though the name had been destined the moment I saw it.

Chapter 43: When Etiquette Dies and Marshmallows Hatch

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