[Lavinia’s POV — Continuation — Lavinia’s Office]
I stayed close to Osric’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing beneath my ear. His fingers traced lazy circles along my hands, each touch gentle enough to melt the air around us. We didn’t speak—words would’ve only shattered the fragile peace his warmth had built.
My heart wasn’t just beating; it was thundering. When he tilted my chin upward again, his eyes were darker, filled with something that made it hard to breathe.
"Again?" I whispered.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he took my hand and pressed it to his chest. "We had a huge fight, Lavi," he murmured. "A mere kiss won’t be enough to calm me."
Before I could form a reply, his lips met mine again—not softly this time, but with deliberate intent. The kiss was hungry, searching, and desperate in the way only forgiveness and longing could be. His hand cupped my jaw, thumb brushing along my cheek, tender at first, then firmer—grounding me and unraveling me all at once.
My fingers clutched at his collar, trying to steady the rush inside me. His lips trailed to the corner of my jaw, drawing fire with every breath he stole.
"Osric..." I whispered, the word trembling between us.
He hummed against my skin, low and rough. "You still tremble when I touch you," he said, voice dark with affection.
"Because you never touch softly," I breathed.
A quiet laugh escaped him. "You always know how to drive me mad, Lavi."
His gaze was molten, far too hungry for words. A reckless spark lit inside me. I met that fire with a smirk, my legs dangling at both sides as I shifted onto his lap as I whispered, "Then let’s go mad together, my love."
His breath hitched—just enough to satisfy my pride. "As you command, Your Highness," he smirked, voice rough with devotion and desire.
Our lips crashed again, the kiss fierce and consuming. It wasn’t born of anger or apology anymore; it was the meeting of two storms, fierce but seeking peace in the same lightning strike. His hands found my waist, pulling me closer until our hearts beat in one impossible rhythm.
He tilted his head, letting his lips wander to the curve of my throat—a trail of warmth that made my pulse race faster than reason could follow. I felt the tremor in his breath, the way his control wavered beneath the weight of everything left unspoken.
"You’re such a beast..." I whispered, half warning, half plea.
"Only when it comes to you, your highness."
Then he paused, forehead resting against my shoulder. "If I go further," he said quietly, "I won’t stop."
I smiled, brushing my thumb along his jaw. "I never ordered you to stop, Grand duke."
For a moment, he simply looked at me—that raw, unguarded look that stripped away titles, crowns, and walls. Then, as if words were too small for what he felt, he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the curve of my neck.
The kiss was slow and reverent—a whisper of warmth that made my breath falter. His touch wasn’t demanding this time; it was a promise, a confession only I was meant to hear.
My hand moved to his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands as I closed my eyes. Every breath he left against my skin felt like fire and gentleness woven together—enough to make the world disappear, if only for a heartbeat.
He drew me closer, his hands steady at my waist, keeping me near as if the daylight itself might steal me away. He nibbled, leaving deliberate marks on my neck as if he wanted to declare to the world...that I am his.
Meanwhile, his other hand traced the edge of my gown, his touch skimming lightly on my thighs along the fabric, close enough to make my pulse stumble.
And in that moment, I didn’t stop him, nor did I wish to stop.
The world outside the office faded until there was only the warmth between us, the sound of our breathing, and the fierce rhythm of two hearts that finally found the same beat. Everything else—crowns, duties, words—fell away. There was only us, lost in the golden hush of daylight, holding on as if the universe might end if we let go.
***
[Later—Lavinia’s Office]
I lay stretched across Osric’s lap, his shirt half-buttoned and his breath still uneven. His fingers combed gently through my hair, each stroke unhurried, as if he never wanted the moment to end.
His eyes shone—soft, bright, like someone who had just seen a thousand shooting stars and somehow had all his wishes granted at once. He caught my hand, pressed it against his cheek, and sighed contentedly. Right now, he looked less like the Empire’s most feared Grand duke and more like an oversized, adoring puppy.
I chuckled. "So," I murmured, tracing the line of his jaw, "when’s the coronation ceremony? The one where you officially become Grand Duke and Grand Duke Regis retires?"
He smiled, eyes half-lidded. "Probably next month. Father and Grandfather want to make it grand. I think Father plans to announce our engagement that day, too."
My lips curved. "He’s far too excited."
Osric gave me a deadpan look. "Of course he is. The father is practically glowing—after all, you’re about to become his daughter-in-law."
I snorted. "Well, at least someone in this family has a sense of enthusiasm."
He arched a brow. "Meaning I don’t?"
"Meaning," I said with a teasing grin, "maybe we should just get married already—"
"I AM READY!" he blurted before I could finish.
. . .
. . .
I blinked, then burst into laughter. "Oh? So someone’s eager to tie the knot, hm?"
He looked away, feigning nonchalance but failing miserably. "Maybe I just... can’t wait any longer."
I tilted my head, smirking like the devil itself. "Is that because you’re turning into an old man soon?"
His whole body went rigid, as if struck by lightning. "O... old? Did she just call me old?" he muttered, scandalized.
I covered my mouth, trying and failing to hide my laughter. "Well, if the shoe fits—"
He squinted at me, pretending to glare but unable to stop the faint smile tugging at his lips. "Careful, your highness. I might just prove to you how young I still am."
I gasped dramatically. "Threatening royalty, are we?"
He leaned down until our noses almost brushed. "Not a threat," he whispered, voice low and teasing. "A promise."
I rolled my eyes, but my heart was doing ridiculous cartwheels. "You’re impossible."
"And yet," he murmured, brushing his thumb over my lips, "you’re still here."
I smiled, letting my eyes close as his laughter rumbled quietly beneath me. "Unfortunately for me... yes."
"Unfortunately for me," he said, kissing my forehead, "I’m the luckiest man alive."
I smiled and pushed myself up from his arms. "Alright—work calls."
Before I could take a step, Osric caught me around the waist from behind, pulling me into a warm, possessive embrace. His breath brushed my ear.
"A little longer, Lavi."
I wriggled free just enough to grab a handful of the papers waiting on my table in front of him. I shot him a wicked grin. "Then stay close and help me drown in these."
His eyes traveled to the sea of parchment, and he slumped like a knight struck by boredom instead of a sword. "Being Crown Princess is brutal."
"Congratulations on the late enlightenment." I crossed the room, the reports rustling like waves crashing against a cliff. "I had a war with you earlier. And now—on top of everything—Meren wants to test my patience."
His expression darkened. "Foul play?"
"Yes." I tapped the top report hard enough to leave a dent. "The water following from there is unclean. Subtle provocations... yet together, they scream challenge."
Osric stepped closer, bracing a hand against the desk as though steadying both of us. "Do you want me to storm in and show them the Crown princess isn’t someone to provoke?"
I shook my head slowly, lips curving into something sharper than a smile. "No. Let them think they’re dealing with a soft little princess." My gaze turned to steel. "I’ll show them the teeth of the crown."
He blinked—not in fear, but in admiration. "Ruthless," he murmured. "Even with me... and I love that about you."
I sat, spreading the parchments like a battlefield map. My voice dropped to a quiet threat:
"I’ll wait for a proper response. If they stay silent, we send an envoy. If they keep playing games..."
"War?" Osric’s voice hit the ceiling, disbelief coating each letter.
I didn’t flinch. "What choice will they leave me? Just like irethene, Mere will end up becoming a part of elorian. I hope meren will not make us repeat ourselves."
A slow, fierce smile pulled at Osric’s mouth—a silent oath. He wasn’t afraid of the fire in me. He was ready to burn with it.
I held his gaze, letting the weight of my will fill the room. "Let them test me," I whispered. "Let them see what happens when a princess stops smiling."
The papers trembled faintly beneath my fingers—like even they understood what was coming. Osric and I leaned over the desk, the flicker of candlelight casting our shadows into one.
Not lovers now.Not only.
But a storm the world had dared to summon.
And soon...we would answer.