Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

<Three days later, Duke's mansion>

Inside the Duke's mansion, a room was quiet, the only sound the rhythmic crash of waves against the distant shore.

Aeliana sat by her bed, her slender form draped in her usual heavy robe. She leaned back against the cushioned headboard, her breathing even as she stared blankly at the ceiling.

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted in her chest, like a claw tearing through her lungs. Her eyes widened as she clutched at her throat, gasping for air. Before she could cry out, a wet, metallic taste filled her mouth.

"Burghk-!"

A violent cough wracked her body, and when she pulled her hand away, it was stained crimson.

Her breath came in shallow gasps as she stared at the blood on her palm, her vision blurring. Panic seized her as she doubled over, trembling.

The door burst open, and her maid, Liana, rushed in, her face pale with worry. "My lady!" she exclaimed, dropping to her knees at Aeliana's side. Without hesitation, she reached for the small vial of medicine kept on the bedside table.

"Here," the maid said urgently, uncorking the vial and pressing it into Aeliana's shaking hands. "Drink this—it will help."

Aeliana's fingers fumbled with the vial as she tried to steady herself. The maid gently guided her hands, helping her tilt the vial to her lips. The thick, bitter liquid burned as it slid down her throat, but the effect was immediate. Her coughing subsided, though her chest still ached, and her breaths came in uneven gasps.

As the medicine took hold, Aeliana's strength waned, and she slumped forward, her balance faltering. The maid instinctively reached out to steady her, her hands warm and firm against Aeliana's trembling frame.

But as she did that, she made a mistake. While trying to help her, she slightly moved her veil…

And to that, the maid's eyes widened as her gaze fell on Aeliana's exposed skin for a split second. The blackened lines and cracked pores that marred her pale skin were stark and jarring. Despite her attempts to hide it, the illness's cruel marks were impossible to miss.

It was really disgusting, completely against a person's eyes and sense of art.

Her expression betrayed her shock, her lips parting slightly as her eyes flicked between Aeliana's hands and the veil that barely concealed her torment.

And that was something that Aeliana had always been familiar with.

The same gaze that the maid had at that time, was the same gaze that everyone had thrown at her when she had first gotten her illness.

To that Aeliana's reaction was swift and sharp.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed, slapping the maid's hands away with what little strength she had left. Her voice was laced with anger, but beneath it was a raw vulnerability that sent the maid recoiling.

Aeliana's trembling hands reached for the veil she had discarded earlier, pulling it over her face in one swift motion. Her fingers tugged the fabric into place, ensuring every inch of her face was concealed. She turned away from the maid, her breathing still labored, but her movements were frantic and defensive.

Her expression betrayed her shock, her lips parting slightly as her eyes flicked between Aeliana's hands and the veil that barely concealed her torment.

"Out!" Aeliana snapped, her voice sharp and trembling. "Get out! Now!"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"My lady—" the maid began, her voice faltering as she reached out again.

"Leave!" Aeliana's shout rang through the room, raw and desperate. She turned her face further away, her hands clenching into fists against her lap. "I don't need your pity. Just go!"

The maid hesitated for a moment, her expression filled with both guilt and helplessness. Finally, she lowered her gaze and stood, stepping back toward the door.

"As you wish, my lady," she murmured softly before slipping out of the room and closing the door behind her.

As the silence returned, Aeliana slumped against the bed, her body trembling from exhaustion and the aftermath of her outburst. She pulled her veil tighter around her face, her chest heaving with shallow breaths.

As the door clicked shut and the maid's hesitant footsteps faded down the hall, silence reclaimed the room. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken emotions and the lingering taste of bitter medicine. Aeliana's trembling hands moved with practiced urgency, pulling the veil tighter around her face, tucking it securely to hide every inch of exposed skin.

Her fingers, still shaking, adjusted her sleeves and the hem of her robe, ensuring not a sliver of her discolored, cracked skin was visible. Each motion was precise, almost mechanical, born from years of necessity. But with every adjustment, her chest tightened, a deep, seething hatred simmering within her.

Not for the maid. Not for her illness.

For the veil. For the layers of fabric that imprisoned her.

Her fists clenched against the thick fabric of her robes as she turned and slumped onto the bed. The ornate headboard loomed above her like a monument to everything she despised. She pulled her knees to her chest, curling into herself, her face buried against her legs.

The veil brushed against her skin, a constant reminder of its presence, suffocating and oppressive. She despised it with every fiber of her being, yet she couldn't bear to remove it. Not after what she'd seen on the maid's face—that flicker of revulsion, no matter how quickly the girl had tried to hide it.

'They always look at me like that,' she thought bitterly, her mind racing back to memories she had tried to bury. The first time she had stepped out of her room after the marks began to spread, the way the servants averted their eyes, the whispered murmurs she wasn't meant to hear.

'Disgusting.'

'How tragic.'

'She's not even human anymore.'

Her arms tightened around her knees as if she could make herself smaller as if she could disappear entirely. She didn't cry. There were no tears left for this, no energy to mourn a life that had long since slipped away. She simply stayed like that, curled into a fragile ball, her breathing shallow and uneven.

The minutes stretched on, the room enveloped in a heavy silence broken only by the faint crash of waves in the distance. Aeliana didn't move. She didn't need to. This was familiar—too familiar.

It was how she had always coped. No tears, no screams, just silence and stillness.

If she stayed like this long enough, maybe the ache in her chest would fade. Maybe the suffocating weight of the veil would become bearable again.

Maybe.

KNOCK!

But it appeared that even that little time was just too much for her.

The knock on the door echoed through the suffocating silence of the room, pulling Aeliana from the fog of her thoughts. Her body tensed as a familiar voice followed the knock, deep and authoritative yet with a measured gentleness.

"Aeliana."

She recognized it instantly—her father. The Duke.

Her breath hitched as she scrambled to pull the blanket over herself, covering her body entirely. The thought of him seeing her like this, vulnerable and exposed, filled her with a sharp, aching dread. Once she was sufficiently hidden beneath the thick fabric, her voice, though strained, cut through the air.

"Enter."

The door creaked open, and the Duke stepped inside, his presence commanding as always. He paused in the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the room before landing on her huddled figure on the bed. His gaze lingered for a moment, and though his expression was unreadable, there was a flicker of concern in his eyes.

"You had one of your attacks again, didn't you?" he asked, his voice steady but edged with quiet worry.

Aeliana's lips pressed into a thin line, her body curling further beneath the blanket. "What does it matter?" she snapped, her tone sharp and unwelcoming. "You've seen it enough times. It's nothing new."

The Duke exhaled a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging slightly as he crossed the room. He stopped a few paces from the bed, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her fragile frame. "It matters because you matter," he said, his tone softening slightly. "Even when you refuse to believe it."

Aeliana didn't respond, her gaze fixed on the corner of the blanket she clutched tightly in her hands. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, uneven breaths as her father's words hung in the air.

The Duke straightened, his demeanor shifting back to one of authority. "I came to inform you that the vantage point you requested has been arranged. Everything is ready."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, a faint spark of surprise breaking through her guarded expression. "Already?" she asked, her voice low and skeptical.

"Yes," he replied, nodding. "You'll have Madeline at your side, as well as a contingent of knights to ensure your safety. The location is secure, and I've made certain it will provide the view you desired."

Aeliana's fingers tightened around the blanket, pulling it higher as if to shield herself from his gaze. "I don't need her," she said curtly. "Or the knights." Stay updated with empire

"You do," the Duke countered firmly. "And you will have them. This isn't negotiable."

Her lips curled into a faint scowl, but she didn't argue further. There was no point—his decisions, once made, were immutable.

"I've also had cloaks and veils prepared," he added, gesturing briefly toward a neatly folded bundle in the corner of the room. "They will ensure you're properly covered and shielded from the elements. And from prying eyes."

The mention of the veils made her stomach twist, a bitter taste rising in her throat. Still, she nodded reluctantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine."

The Duke's gaze lingered on her, his sharp features etched with a mix of authority and concern. He crossed his arms, his imposing figure casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the room.

"The recruitment for the expedition will be finalized by tomorrow," he stated firmly. "After that, we move. Make sure you are in good condition by then."

Aeliana's fingers clenched tighter around the blanket, her knuckles whitening as she straightened slightly. Her voice, though quiet, carried an edge of determination. "I will not miss it."

The Duke's brow furrowed slightly at her words, his expression unreadable. A pause hung heavy between them, the silence broken only by the faint crash of waves outside the window.

"...Is that so?" he finally said, his voice calm but laden with something inscrutable.

Aeliana held his gaze for a moment, her heart thudding in her chest. The tension in the air was palpable, her father's words carrying a weight she couldn't entirely decipher.

"Yes," she replied, her tone steady despite the tremor in her hands. "I'll be ready."

The Duke exhaled, his broad shoulders relaxing just slightly as he regarded her. "See that you are," he said, his voice softer now. "This is not a place for hesitation or frailty. If you cannot manage yourself, there will be no second chances."

Aeliana's jaw tightened, her teeth clenching behind her veil. "I understand."