Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Sharp, unguarded gasps broke through the disciplined ranks. Some knights, usually trained to remain composed under any circumstance, stumbled slightly where they stood, their expressions breaking into shock.

Even Reinhardt Valsteyn, the Knight Commander who had served Thaddeus for years, momentarily lost his usual stoicism.

Because they had all known Aeliana.

They had seen her before.

And the woman who now stood beside the Duke—**without her veil, without the sickness that had once clung to her like a second skin—**was not the same girl they remembered.

Her hair, long and cascading like woven silk, swayed against the ocean breeze, reflecting the light with a midnight sheen. Her eyes, burning amber and sharp as a blade, no longer held the weary, feverish weight of someone struggling against death.

Her skin—

There was no more illness.

No more pale, brittle complexion, no more frailty that once defined her.

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The sickness that had plagued her for years—the one that had been deemed incurable—was gone.

She was whole.

And it was impossible.

The air on the flagship's deck felt heavier.

It wasn't just shock.

It was something closer to awe.

Aeliana felt their gazes. She saw the subtle disbelief in the way the knights' hands clenched at their sides, how their eyes flickered between her and the Duke as if searching for confirmation of what they were seeing.

Her expression did not change.

She did not shrink back under their scrutiny.

Instead, she met their gazes directly.

And that, more than anything, was what made some of them truly pause.

Because the Aeliana they had once known never looked people in the eye.

The Aeliana they had once known was hidden, veiled, her sickness making her fragile, leaving her with little reason to meet the world head-on.

But this Aeliana?

The one standing beside Duke Thaddeus was not broken.

She was unshaken.

Aeliana took a step forward onto the deck.

And no one could look away.

Not out of pity.

Not out of concern.

But because it felt like something new had been born.

Duke Thaddeus did not acknowledge their shock.

He did not offer explanations.

He simply walked forward, as if daring anyone to question what they saw.

And not a single knight spoke.

Not yet.

Lucavion, standing at the edge of the deck, exhaled sharply through his nose, watching the entire interaction with a flicker of amusement.

"Quite the homecoming," he murmured under his breath, mostly to himself. His dark eyes flickered toward Aeliana, watching the way she carried herself under the weight of so many stares.

She did not waver.

A smirk pulled at his lips.

"Interesting."

But whatever thoughts he had, he kept them to himself.

Because this—

This was a moment between father and daughter.

And Lucavion?

For now—

He would just watch.

******

A beat of silence.

And then—

A sound erupted across the flagship.

A deafening cheer.

The knights, the sailors, the mages—all who stood on the deck, who had been watching in stunned silence just moments ago, suddenly shouted as one.

"WOOOOOOO!"

"LADY AELIANA IS SAVED!"

"THE YOUNG LADY IS SAFE!"

A wave of relief, joy, and pure disbelief crashed through the gathered forces.

Some knights slammed their fists against their chests in salute. Others raised their weapons high into the air, their cheers carrying across the entire fleet.

The crew banged their shields, their roars of victory and celebration rolling like thunder across the ocean. Even the more disciplined veterans—**the ones trained to suppress emotion in the face of war—**could not hide their grins.

This was not just a victory.

This was a miracle.

The Duke's daughter, the frail girl whom everyone thought doomed to sickness, the young lady they had seen veiled for years—was standing before them, strong and unbroken.

Their joy was genuine.

Because this wasn't just about the Duchy.

This wasn't just about duty.

Aeliana had been one of their own.

Even if they had never spoken to her, even if they had only seen her from a distance—they had all known.

They had all known about the girl hidden away behind walls.

And now, that girl was gone.

What stood before them was something else entirely.

Aeliana remained still, watching them.

The cheering, the pure joy—it wasn't something she had ever experienced directly.

It was…

Strange.

She didn't dislike it.

But she wasn't sure she liked it either.

The ship continued its course home, the waves pushing them forward as if the ocean itself had accepted this as a moment of triumph.

Duke Thaddeus stood at the ship's helm, watching everything unfold. The cheers, the relief, the way his men celebrated his daughter's return.

And then—

His gaze shifted.

To her.

She stood at the edge of the deck, her arms crossed, her amber eyes focused on the sea ahead.

Aeliana.

He had been so consumed by everything else—by the **journey, by the battle, by the impossible reality of her survival—**that he had not once asked her—

Not once.

If she was okay.

His voice came out lower than he expected.

"…Aeliana."

She turned slightly, her expression neutral, waiting.

Thaddeus exhaled.

"Are you—"

He stopped.

The words felt foreign in his mouth, as if he had never needed to say them before.

Because he hadn't.

He had never asked her how she was.

Not before the sickness.

Not during.

And even now—

She beat him to it.

"I am okay, Father," Aeliana said.

Her tone was blunt, sharp—almost crude.

"As you can see."

Her amber eyes, once bright with fire, dimmed slightly, as if she had already expected the question too late.

Before he could react, she continued.

"And I know you're curious."

She turned fully now, tilting her head ever so slightly, as if already predicting his thoughts.

"So let me answer beforehand."

The wind brushed through her hair, the ocean stretching infinitely behind her.

"The illness… Yes, it is gone."

The words rang clear.

Unshaken.

Final.

And for the first time in a long time in his life—

Duke Thaddeus did not know what to say.