Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

"You have put quite a show, but everything has a location, don't you think?"

Aeliana's gaze snapped to Luca, her amber eyes narrowing in irritation.

Luca merely raised his hands in mock surrender, his lips curling into that ever-present smirk. "Come on now," he murmured, his voice smooth, teasing, as if the tension crackling between father and daughter wasn't thick enough to choke. "Don't show your fangs—you're going to scare me."

His black eyes flicked to the side, subtly signaling behind them.

Aeliana's brow twitched.

And then she saw it.

The knights.

Most of them were pretending to be occupied, hands tightening on weapons, adjusting armor, staring just a little too hard at the horizon as if the sight of endless ocean had suddenly become the most fascinating thing in the world.

But it was obvious.

They had been listening.

Every single one of them.

Luca's smirk widened, his voice carrying an easy amusement. "See? Everything has a place. Even father and daughter quarrels."

Aeliana inhaled sharply through her nose, schooling her features into something unreadable, but the irritation remained. She had been so wrapped in the moment—so caught in the sharp edge of words exchanged—that she had forgotten where they were.

Who was watching.

Aeliana's eyes flickered back to her father.

Thaddeus did not react immediately. His golden gaze lingered on Luca for a moment—assessing, measuring, as if determining whether to be irritated by his interruption or acknowledge the truth in it.

Then, slowly, he exhaled.

A single wave of his hand.

The wind shifted.

A deep rumble swept through the ship, not violent enough to knock anyone off balance, but strong enough to make the message clear. The wood groaned under the sudden force, the sails snapped taut, and the ocean seemed to shudder in response.

The knights stiffened.

It was not an order. Not a command.

But they understood.

Silently, swiftly, the men refocused, their movements deliberate, precise, returning to their stations as if they had never been listening at all.

Luca let out a low whistle, watching the way the tension broke—not in the air, but in the behavior of the knights, the way they abandoned their pretense of disinterest and simply moved.

'And just like that, the show is over.'

But despite the way the scene dissolved, something lingered.

The Duke's mood had shifted.

It was not just that the argument had been interrupted. It was not just that they had been watched.

It was that he no longer felt like arguing.

His expression remained composed, his stance firm, but the sharpness—the weight in his tone, the storm brewing beneath his words—had dulled.

Aeliana saw it too.

And for some reason, that annoyed her more than anything else.

She had been ready for it. Ready to fight, to push, to meet him head-on.

And now?

Now, it felt unfinished.

Thaddeus turned, his cloak shifting slightly with the movement. He did not spare another glance at Luca, nor at the knights, nor at the open sea.

Only at her.

His golden eyes lingered on hers, steady, unwavering.

And then, without another word—

He walked away.

Luca watched him go, his smirk lazy, his black eyes flickering with something unreadable. "Well," he murmured, crossing his arms loosely, "that was almost exciting."

Aeliana shot him a glare.

Luca chuckled.

Then, tilting his head slightly, he sighed. "Tch. You're still glaring at me. What, did I ruin the moment?"

Aeliana exhaled sharply. "You talk too much."

Luca grinned. "And you argue too much."

Aeliana's glare darkened as she stepped toward him, her movements slow, deliberate.

Lucavion, however, remained exactly where he was.

Unmoved. Unbothered.

His smirk never wavered, his black eyes gleaming with that same insufferable amusement.

Aeliana stopped just before him, tilting her chin up slightly as her amber gaze burned into his.

"Do you think this place is somewhere you can act as you please?"

Lucavion blinked, tilting his head. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

Aeliana's expression sharpened, her voice dropping just slightly—just enough for only him to hear.

"Now, you are speaking to the heiress of the Thaddeus Duchy before her knights," she murmured, her tone like the edge of a blade. "With just a single order of mine, your head can be cut off."

Silence stretched between them.

And then—

Lucavion's smile widened.

Not in mockery. Not in fear.

But in genuine delight.

"So what?" he mused, exhaling softly. "Didn't I tell you before?"

He lifted a hand, pointing directly at her, his black eyes locking onto hers with something far deeper than amusement.

"How can I call myself brave and strong if I'm afraid of something just because it's different?"

Aeliana stilled.

Because she had heard those exact words before.

"I, Lucavion, am scared of nothing."

Not long ago.

Not in this cavern.

But in the depths of despair.

When she had first shown him her marks.

Her cursed, wretched skin—the twisted scars of her illness that had made even the most hardened nobles recoil.

She had expected disgust.

She had prepared for it.

And yet—

At that time, Lucavion had simply looked at her. Unflinching. Unshaken. And then, with the same confidence, he had said it.

The exact same words.

Aeliana's breath hitched slightly. Enjoy new chapters from My Virtual Library Empire

Come to think of it—he had already revealed his name then.

She had been too consumed, too lost in the moment to process it at the time.

But now, as the memory resurfaced—

She realized.

Even then, he hadn't lied.

Lucavion had always been exactly who he said he was.

Her fingers twitched at her side.

"Really?" Aeliana muttered, her amber eyes searching his face, looking for something—anything—that might hint at falsehood, at pretense, at some reason behind his words.

Lucavion didn't hesitate.

"Indeed," he said simply.

His voice was calm. Steady.

Too steady.

"To me, you have never been the Duke's daughter." He tilted his head slightly, as if amused by the very notion. "You were just the Little Ember who argued with me. And this is still the same."

Aeliana stared.

For a long second, she said nothing.

"…You're serious," she finally murmured.

Lucavion's black eyes gleamed. "I don't lie."

And—he didn't.

Aeliana realized it then.

Right now—

He wasn't guarded.

He wasn't calculating his words, wasn't carefully choosing them to manipulate her like so many others had done before.

Right now, if it had been anyone else, they would have already been groveling—acting respectfully, trying to gain her favor, trying to lick her boots for the slightest chance at power, at influence, at something.

But Lucavion?

He did not.

Maybe—maybe—he had something to gain by acting this way.

Maybe he didn't.

But—

It didn't matter.

It just—didn't.

Aeliana clicked her tongue.

"Tch..."

She didn't understand him.

She just couldn't.

What the hell was going through his head?

What was he talking about?

He just—

He just felt foreign.