Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Eleanor stood by the window, her elegant figure framed by the evening light. Her green eyes, once filled with warmth and kindness, now reflected deep-seated anger and disappointment.

She turned as Gerald entered the room, her expression hardening as she saw the letter in his hand.

"Gerald," she said, her voice tense, "what does the Duke say?"

Gerald took a deep breath, trying to steady his emotions. "The engagement between Isolde and Lucavion has been nullified."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed. "That much was expected. But what else? What does the Duke demand?"

Gerald's jaw tightened, and he handed her the letter. "The Duke desires a punishment befitting the crime. He trusts me to handle this matter with the utmost severity."

Eleanor scanned the letter, her face growing paler with each word. When she finished, she looked up at Gerald, her eyes blazing with fury. "How could he? How could Lucavion bring such disgrace upon our family?"

Gerald clenched his fists, his anger barely contained. "What he did is one of the biggest sins a man can ever commit. He has not only shamed us but also betrayed the trust of the Valoria family. This is a stain on our honor that cannot be easily washed away."

"And to Isolde on top of that. Such a fragile and innocent young girl. She was like a flower, remember." Eleanor spoke, her eyes looking silent.

"Indeed, she was like an angel," Gerald said as he looked into Eleanor's eyes. "You don't need to think too much for such a disgrace." Eleanor grabbed Gerald's hand, clenching it.

"Don't worry, I won't. From now on, I will no longer have a son named Lucavion."

********

The two days that followed were a blur of confinement and basic sustenance. Each day, a guard would silently slide a tray of food and water into the cell, the contents just as meager and unappetizing as during the journey.

Stale bread, tough meat, and the occasional bruised fruit became my staple diet.

The days passed in a slow, monotonous rhythm, each moment blending into the next. But amidst the isolation, I found something on my wrist.

"What is this?"

Was there something like this on my arm?

I tried to recall if such a thing was there, but I couldn't remember. Maybe someone else had put this for me when I was asleep, or maybe I was seeing things.

As I focused on the bracelet, a faint memory surfaced. The moment before I lost consciousness, there had been a presence, a comforting touch. It was a hazy recollection, but it was there, lingering at the edges of my mind.

A gentle voice, soft and soothing, whispering words of comfort. The sensation of someone cradling my head, offering solace in my darkest moment.

But I didn't know who the person was at all.

Still, despite the lack of comfort and the harsh conditions, I found myself strangely calm, as if that presence was there. It was a subtle feeling, definitely.

The cell remained as cold and damp as ever, but the knot in my heart had loosened somewhat.

The words of my mother, though painful, forced me to confront my reality and my own sense of self-worth. I knew I was not the disappointment she believed me to be, and this conviction brought a measure of peace.

No one came to visit me after my mother's departure. The silence of the cell became a companion, a space where I could reflect and gather my strength.

The nightmares that had plagued my sleep during the journey receded, replaced by a more restful slumber. It was as if the confrontation had purged some of the anxiety and fear that had taken root within me.

As I lay on the cold stone floor, my thoughts drifted to the trial that awaited me. I knew I had to be strong, to face whatever accusations were thrown my way with dignity and resolve.

*******

The grand hall of the Thorne mansion was filled with a tense silence as the trial of Lucavion Thorne commenced. The room, usually reserved for celebratory gatherings and important family meetings, now bore the weight of judgment and consequence. Nobles from surrounding estates, family members, and servants gathered, their faces reflecting a mixture of curiosity, concern, and condemnation.

At the front of the hall stood Viscount Gerald Thorne, his stern visage commanding attention. Beside him, Eleanor Thorne sat with a cold, impassive expression, her eyes fixed on the proceedings. A heavy oak table separated them from Lucavion, who stood in the center of the room, flanked by two stern-faced guards.

Gerald raised his hand, signaling for silence. The murmurs that had filled the room died down, and all eyes turned towards the viscount.

"Today, we gather to address the grave transgressions committed by Lucavion Thorne," Gerald began, his voice echoing through the hall. "His actions have brought disgrace upon our family and have violated the trust placed in us by the Valoria family."

Lucavion stood still, his eyes fixed on the floor. The weight of his actions and the judgment of his family bore down on him heavily.

Gerald continued, "The Duke of Valoria has nullified the engagement between Isolde and Lucavion, and he demands a punishment befitting the crime. It is our duty to ensure that justice is served and that the honor of the Thorne family is upheld."

He turned his gaze to Lucavion, his eyes cold and unforgiving. "Lucavion Thorne, do you have anything to say in your defense?"

Lucavion lifted his head, meeting his father's gaze. The defiance that once burned in his eyes was still there.

"I did not commit such a crime."

A murmur of disbelief swept through the room. The assembled nobles and family members exchanged glances, their faces a mixture of skepticism and disdain. Gerald's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you expect us to believe that after all that has happened?" Gerald's voice was cold and unforgiving.

Before Lucavion could respond, his brother Alistair stepped forward, his eyes blazing with anger. "Even after all this time, you're still trying to lie? To deny your actions?"

Lucavion shook his head, his voice steady. "I am not lying, Alistair. I swear, I did not commit this crime."

–SWOOSH!

Alistair's fury erupted. His hands ignited with fire, the flames dancing dangerously close to Lucavion's face. "How dare you! You think you can deceive us all with your lies? You're a disgrace to our family!"

Lucavion pulled back, the heat of the flames scorching his skin, but his eyes remained resolute. "I'm telling the truth."

Before the situation could escalate further, Gerald's voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Enough, Alistair!"

The flames in Alistair's hands flickered and died, but his anger was far from extinguished. He stepped back, his eyes still burning with fury as he glared at his brother.

Gerald's gaze shifted back to Lucavion, his expression unreadable. "Cease your worthless claims."

As the gaze fell down to Lucavion, he pursed his lips.

"Yes, father."

Gerald's cold eyes remained fixed on Lucavion. "Your punishment has been decided. You will be sent to the Valerius Plains to serve on the front lines of the war. You will fight until the war is won or until you fall in battle. This is the only way to atone for the disgrace you have brought upon our family."

"What?"

"He will be sent to the frontlines?"

"At such an age?"

The whispers grew louder, filled with shock and disbelief. The war on the Valerius Plains had been raging for seven years, and its brutality was well-known. The enemy empire was the strongest force across the whole continent, and sending a young child who had yet to celebrate his fifteenth birthday banquet to such a battlefield was seen as a death sentence.

"This is madness!" someone whispered. "How can they expect him to survive out there?"

"He's just a boy," another voice added. "He won't last a day in that hell."

"That must be the point. After all, they are trying to soothe the Iron Duke and the Royal Family. The punishment given should be befitting to such titles."

"Indeed, that must be the case."

Eleanor's face remained a mask of cold indifference, as did Alistair, who seemed unperturbed by the murmurs, his anger still smoldering.

Gerald raised his hand, commanding silence once more. "The decision is final. Lucavion's actions have brought disgrace upon us all, and this is the only fitting punishment. He will prove his worth and seek redemption on the battlefield." He paused, his voice echoing through the hall. "Is that clear?"

Lucavion raised his head, his eyes locking onto the Viscount. The fierceness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a deep sadness and resignation. "Father, is this your will?"

Gerald's gaze remained cold and unyielding. "Yes, that is my will."

Lucavion nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the verdict. "...I understand, Father."

Gerald's expression hardened even further. "I am not your father."

Lucavion's face fell further, but he nodded again, accepting the finality of his father's words. "Understood, Viscount."

The room fell silent again, the gravity of the situation settling over everyone present. Gerald's expression softened for just a moment, a fleeting glimpse of the father he once was before it hardened once more.

"Take him away," he ordered the guards. "He leaves at first light."

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