CHAPTER 173: MY SAFE-ZONE

[Lavinia’s POV—Dawnspire Wing—Lavinia’s Chamber]

The air between us went still. Not the comfortable, romantic kind of still—no, this was the murderous kind.

The apple slipped from my hand, rolling pathetically across the ground like it was escaping the scene before things got ugly.

I narrowed my eyes, just to make sure my ears weren’t conspiring against me.

"What... did you just say?"

"You," Rey repeated, stretching the word out like a lazy cat pawing at a trapped mouse. His smirk could have been arrested for indecency. Then, leaning in just enough for me to smell trouble, he added, "I said... I want you, princess."

Oh, he did not just—

My jaw tightened. My fist clenched. My entire bloodstream turned into boiling lava.

"Hah..." I let out a laugh so hollow it could have been used as a haunted house soundtrack. "I... can’t believe... what I’m hearing."

Rey just sat there, looking like the human embodiment of a wink.

With an angry glint in my eyes, I rose to my feet, grabbed my sword—still sheathed—and without a shred of hesitation started whacking him like I was tenderizing questionable meat.

"You—bastard—" whack "—son of a—" whack "—cheap fairytale villain!" whack whack whack

"Oi, oi, careful, princess!" Rey shielded himself with an arm. "You’re going to dent the pretty face you secretly like."

"Secretly like?! The only thing I like is imagining your funeral!"

The air around us vibrated with every swing.

THWACK!

My sword cover smacked into his shoulder. "AAGHH—wait, wait! Princess, my precious bones—" Rey’s voice cracked like a pubescent boy’s.

"Precious bones?!" I barked a laugh so sharp even the crows on the roof paused. "I’ll make sure your precious bones are in alphabetical order by the time I’m done!"

THWACK! Right arm.

THWACK! Left arm.

"P—princess! I bruise easily!" Rey yelped, hopping back only for me to follow like a bloodhound on a fresh scent.

"GOOD! Now people will see your bruises and know you’re a certified creep! I’ll tattoo ’PERVERT’ on your forehead with this sword if I have to!"

"Wha—Tattoo?! You don’t even know how to tattoo!" he complained, ducking as I swung again.

"Oh, I’ll LEARN. I’m multi-talented when motivated!"

THUD!

My sword cover landed on his shin. Rey howled like I’d just chopped it off. "AGHHHH! Princess! The shin! That’s a war crime!"

"You know what’s a war crime? Harassing women in broad daylight!" I screamed, swinging again.

"IT WAS A COMPLIMENT!" he shouted, trying to shield himself with both arms.

"A compliment?!" I jabbed him right in the gut with the hilt. He wheezed like an accordion in its death throes. "Next time, try saying something like—’Good morning, princess, you look respectable today!’"

"That’s not flirty!" he gasped, staggering back.

"I DON’T WANT FLIRTY!" I roared. THWACK! "I want basic human decency!" THWACK!

By now, Rey was doubled over, hopping from one foot to the other, muttering something about filing a workplace harassment complaint—against me.

"Oh, don’t look at me like that!" I said when he shot me a betrayed glare. "You’re still alive, aren’t you? I call that mercy."

"Mercy?! My spine is in three different time zones!"

I swung once more for good measure—THUNK!—and then planted the sword cover into the ground with a huff. "That," I declared, "is for calling me princess in that tone."

Rey whimpered, clutching his stomach. "Fine, fine... next time I’ll call you... Your Royal Violence."

I narrowed my eyes. "Tempting fate, Rey."

He threw his hands up. "What?! That’s respectful and accurate!"

Respectful, my royal behind. I raised my sword again, fully prepared to continue his education in pain, until—

"Aaghhh—FINE! I give up! I’m sorry! I’M SORRY!" he yelped, shielding himself like a man trying to stop rain with a teacup. "I’ve had enough!"

I lowered the sword with the grace of a judge delivering a death sentence... Then tossed it to the ground with a loud clunk. Turning away, I went to sit, my robes swishing like the dramatic heroine I was born to be.

Marshi, on the other hand, was frozen. Mouth open. Eyes wide. He looked at me... then looked at Rey... Then back at me again—until, oh no, oh no

, his eyes began to sparkle.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

He trotted forward, big paws thudding softly, and nudged me with the enthusiasm of someone who had just witnessed the best play of the year.

"What’s wrong with you?" I asked.

He didn’t answer. Instead—he licked my cheek.

I blinked. Then smiled despite myself, patting his massive furry head. "Did you... enjoy seeing him get beaten?"

Marshi nodded. Enthusiastically. As in, if he had thumbs, he’d be clapping right now.

I chuckled, still patting him. "You’ve got good taste."

And then from the couch, a very pained groan.

"I can’t believe," Rey wheezed dramatically, "that a divine beast is actually enjoying violence."

I turned, glaring sharp enough to cut glass. "Then you shouldn’t have messed with that divine beast’s master."

Marshi nodded in solidarity, fluff practically vibrating with pride.

Rey slumped back, throwing one arm over his eyes like a tragic hero. "Alright, fine. At least let me come to your coming-of-age ceremony?"

"NO." The word hit the air in all caps.

He blinked. Then he pouted. "I get beaten nearly to death and still get banned from the party?! Where is the justice in this kingdom?"

"The justice went for a walk," I said with a deadpan expression.

He blinked and pouted again. "I knew...you’re so cruel."

I scoffed. "Just get out before I personally escort you to the pavement."

He sighed like he was carrying the weight of ten kingdoms, stood up, and sauntered toward the balcony. "Alright, alright..."

But halfway there, he paused—of course he did—and looked over his shoulder with that infuriating smirk.

"...You know, princess... I can still come to your coming-of-age ceremony."

I narrowed my eyes. "Don’t you dare—"

"And..." His smirk deepened into pure, weaponized arrogance. "...you’ll even dance with me."

This bastard.

I grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at his smug face. "GET. LOST."

It hit him dead-on. He caught it, laughing like I’d just confessed my undying love.

"See you again, princess," he said, walking away with the unearned happiness of a man who had clearly taken none of the right lessons from today.

I sighed heavily, dragging my palm down my face. "I am so pissed," I muttered, the words tasting like vinegar.

Then I stood up, brushing off my clothes like I was dusting away his audacity. "Alright... time to meet Papa."

***

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

After changing into a gorgeous gown—the kind that made me feel like I should be floating instead of walking—I marched off with Marshi at my side; I marched towards Papa’s office.

I needed to see Papa. And yes, calm down before I do something... regrettable.

And then—SLAM!

"Papa! I’m here!"

Theon and Ravick both flinched so hard you’d think I’d just set off a cannon. I swear, for a second I saw Theon clutch his chest like his heart was packing its bags and leaving.

Papa, on the other hand, just... blinked at me. He was mid-discussion with someone, one hand holding a stack of important-looking documents. The "I’m busy" air around him lasted all of three seconds before I closed the distance and wrapped my arms around him in a dramatic bear hug.

Everyone stared in confusion wondering, ’What’s wrong with her again.’

But Papa’s large hand came down to pat my head, slow and steady, like I was some startled cat."Did something happen?" he asked, voice calm but eyebrows lifting ever so slightly.

I snuggled closer into his chest, muttering in a tone that was both tragic and matter-of-fact, "I was so pissed, Papa, I honestly felt like killing someone. But don’t worry... I’m good now."

Papa blinked. Twice. Then he chuckled, deep and amused.

"You’re still a kid, huh?"

I pulled back just enough to look him dead in the eyes. "Excuse me? I am your kid. The deluxe, original, one-of-a-kind rare kid. Don’t act surprised."

That earned me a slow smile and another warm pat on the head. "Yes," he said softly, "thank you for reminding me. Sometimes in all the noise, I forget you’re still my little terror."

"I prefer the term ’precious angel.’" I corrected it because accuracy matters.

Papa smirked. "You’re still in denial, I see."

Ravick and Theon were still frozen in surprise, like their brains were buffering. Then, suddenly, Theon clasped his hands dramatically and let out a heartfelt, "Awww... I want a daughter too!"

Papa’s lips curled into a smug half-smile. "Not everyone’s wishes come true, Theon."

Theon gasped as if someone had personally insulted his honor. He jabbed a finger at Papa. "Oh, you just wait! I’ll prove it. I can have a daughter too!"

Papa gave a scoff that was half amusement, half disbelief. "Mm-hm. Good luck with that."

Without another word, Theon spun on his heel, muttering like a man on a mission. "My dear... I’m coming!" His voice faded as he dashed away, and Ravick just shook his head with a mix of pity and secondhand embarrassment.

I couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped out. Papa glanced at me.

"Did you have lunch?"

"No."

He reached out and patted my head gently, his hand warm and steady. "Then let’s go."

I nodded, slipping my arm through his, letting him guide me out of the office. The tension I’d been carrying all day—the irritation, the frustration—slowly started to loosen with every step.

No matter how angry or bitter the world is, there was always one person who could still anchor me. My papa. My family. My one safe zone in a life that often felt like a battlefield.