Page 207 of The Villainess Chose Naps Over Death Flags

"I ate breakfast."

"That was five hours ago." She offered him the grape.

Caspian sighed and accepted it. There was no winning this argument, and truthfully, he didn't mind. Having Caroline close, feeling their son move occasionally against him, her warmth and presence filling his study—it was far better than working alone.

He managed to read through another paragraph of the border patrol schedule before Caroline offered him a slice of apple.

"This working arrangement is terribly inefficient," Caspian observed, though he ate the apple.

"You're still working, aren't you?" Caroline said. "Therefore it's efficient enough."

She shifted slightly, adjusting her position on his lap. At seven months pregnant, she was significantly rounder than she'd been, but she'd stubbornly insisted she could still sit comfortably on his lap.

Caspian would never complain. Not when she was this close, this content.

He was attempting to focus on the supply requisitions when there was a knock at the study door.

"Enter," Caspian called.

Edmund, their butler, opened the door. His expression was carefully neutral, but Caspian caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth—the subtle sign of amusement the man rarely showed.

"Your Grace," Edmund said smoothly. "A royal messenger has arrived with an urgent announcement."

"Send him in," Caspian said.

Caroline made no move to get up from his lap. She simply selected another strawberry and continued her self-appointed task of making sure he ate.

Edmund's amusement deepened fractionally—barely visible, but there—before he stepped aside to allow the messenger entry.

The royal messenger was young, clearly nervous, and wearing the formal livery of the Crown. He stepped into the study, took in the scene before him—the fearsome Duke of Vanthorn at his desk, his very pregnant wife sitting contentedly on his lap feeding him fruit—and froze.

"Your Grace," the messenger managed, bowing quickly. "I bring word from the capital. An official announcement from His Majesty the King."

"Proceed," Caspian said calmly, as if there was nothing unusual about the situation.

The messenger cleared his throat and produced a sealed scroll. He broke the royal seal and read:

"By order of His Majesty King Edric Vaelindor, it is my honor to announce to the realm: THE BLIGHT HAS BEEN DEFEATED!"

Caspian went very still.

Caroline paused mid-reach for another grape.

The messenger continued, his voice gaining confidence: "Earl Sinclair and Lady Rosalie Lennox, along with the brave forces of the royal expedition, have successfully reached the heart of the Wasteland. Lady Rosalie's holy purification magic, combined with the strength and courage of our kingdom's finest warriors, has cleansed the source of corruption. The miasma is clearing. The Wasteland is beginning to heal. The Blight that has plagued our kingdom for generations has been vanquished!"

The messenger looked up from the scroll. "His Majesty extends his deepest gratitude to all who have defended the realm against this threat, including you, Your Grace, for your tireless protection of the northern borders. The kingdom celebrates this glorious victory!"

There was a moment of silence.

Then Caroline said, quite calmly, "Oh good. They won. I knew they would."

The messenger blinked at her, clearly expecting more reaction.

Caspian, however, was feeling something profound settle in his chest.

Relief.

Massive, overwhelming relief.