Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

"Wow… This taste…" Lucavion set his utensils down for a brief moment, exhaling as the lingering flavors settled on his tongue. The smoky richness of the trout was cut by the saffron glaze, striking a perfect balance between deep, earthy warmth and subtle floral sweetness. The spiced crab stew was robust, layered, each spoonful carrying a complexity of flavors that hinted at the region's long history of culinary mastery. Even the lotus-wrapped rice was something else entirely—delicate, fragrant, infused with the gentle essence of the leaves that encased it. He exhaled again, shaking his head in amusement. "I have to admit it—this is beyond what I expected." He glanced up at Aeliana, his smirk curving into something softer. "Your taste is impeccable." Aeliana smirked, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "Of course it is." She leaned slightly against the table, her amber eyes glinting with satisfaction. "I told you, didn't I? This is my home turf. If I didn't know the food of this region better than you, I would be ashamed." Lucavion chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I know when to admit defeat." He lifted his hands in mock surrender. "In the matter of fine taste, I will never compare to you." Aeliana hummed, pleased. "At least you're learning." As they continued their meal, Vitaliara perched on the windowsill, elegantly nibbling at her own selection—a fish she had personally chosen after disappearing into the kitchen with her usual confidence. Her golden eyes flickered between them as she ate, her tail swishing idly as if silently judging the entire exchange. Lucavion took another bite of the trout before glancing at Aeliana again. "So," he mused, "what inspired this?" Aeliana blinked. "This?" Lucavion gestured vaguely toward the meal. "Your refined palate. Was it just a hobby? Or were you always fated to be a ruthless critic of mediocre food?" His tone was light, teasing, but beneath it was genuine curiosity. And then— Silence. Aeliana's hand, which had been about to reach for her tea, stilled. "…" Lucavion immediately noticed the shift. His smirk faded just slightly, his usual instinct for reading the atmosphere kicking in. He straightened a little, debating whether to push or withdraw, but in the end, he chose the latter. With an easy, practiced air, he reached for his cup and let out a smooth chuckle. "Ah, forget I asked. Not every question needs an answer." He flashed her a casual grin. "I'd rather enjoy my meal before you decide to criticize my eating technique next." Aeliana, however, saw right through it. "…It's fine." Lucavion paused, meeting her gaze. Aeliana's expression remained controlled, but there was something in her eyes—something quieter. Not anger, not discomfort. Just… thoughtfulness. She placed her tea down gently. "It's not an off-limits topic." Her voice was smooth, even. "It just caught me off guard." Lucavion studied her for a moment before exhaling lightly, offering a small, knowing smile. "Then, by all means… Take your time." Aeliana glanced at him, searching his expression, before she finally picked up her cup and took a slow sip. "Haaah…" Then she let the warmth of the tea settle against her lips before she finally spoke. "…It was my mother." Lucavion raised a brow slightly but remained silent, letting her continue at her own pace. "She's the reason I became a gourmet," Aeliana said, her voice softer now, not hesitant but distant, as if recalling something from a world long past. "She was… free-spirited. Always wandering, always trying something new. She never liked staying in one place for too long—said it made people dull." A faint, almost wistful smile flickered across her lips. "And when it came to food, she believed it was the best way to understand the world. That you couldn't claim to know a place until you'd tasted its meals, learned its flavors." Lucavion hummed, taking in her words. There was something oddly fitting about that image. Aeliana exhaled softly, her gaze momentarily drifting toward the window, where the golden glow of lanterns shimmered against the darkening streets. "She wasn't like most noblewomen. You know how it is—the expectations, the rules." Lucavion nodded. He knew exactly what she meant. Nobility had its own rigid structure, one that dictated everything—from how one spoke to how one walked, to the very ambitions one was allowed to entertain. Women, in particular, were expected to adhere to their roles with unwavering precision. But Aeliana's mother, it seemed, had been different. "She was a fighter," Aeliana continued. "A swordsman." Lucavion arched a brow at that, intrigue flickering in his eyes. Aeliana smirked slightly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Surprised?" "Not quite," Lucavion murmured, tilting his head. "It explains a lot, actually." Aeliana scoffed lightly. "Hmph. She would have liked you." Lucavion chuckled. "High praise. I assume she wasn't the easiest to impress?" Aeliana's expression softened just slightly. "…No. She wasn't." Lucavion studied her for a moment, his smirk settling into something quieter. There was something unspoken lingering in her words, something just beneath the surface. But he didn't pry. Instead, he took another sip of his tea, his voice effortlessly smooth as he mused, "Well, I'll consider myself fortunate, then. Seems I have good taste in more than just food." Aeliana blinked before exhaling a small, amused breath, shaking her head. "Hah. You really don't stop, do you?" Lucavion smirked. "Wouldn't be me if I did." Aeliana hummed, taking another slow sip of her tea. Aeliana set her tea down carefully, her fingers resting lightly against the porcelain. The golden lantern light reflected in her amber eyes, distant, thoughtful. "My mother… she believed in surprises," she said at last, a small, almost private smile tugging at her lips. "Especially when it came to my father." Lucavion raised a brow, intrigued. "Oh?" Aeliana exhaled, leaning back slightly. "Anthony Thaddeus. You probably have already understood my father after that meeting." Lucavion smirked. "Hard not to. The Duke of Stormhaven. A man known for his discipline, his strategy—his ability to command both a battlefield and a court with equal precision." He tilted his head. "I'd imagine 'surprises' weren't exactly something he appreciated." Aeliana chuckled softly. "Not at all." Her father was a man of structure, a figure of absolute discipline. He wasn't cruel—at least, not in the way some noblemen were—but he was unyielding. His world was built on principles, on expectations. Everything had to be accounted for, controlled. And her mother… was the opposite. "She liked to keep him on his toes," Aeliana continued, her voice light with nostalgia. "When they were younger, she'd challenge him in unexpected ways. A duel at dawn when he least expected it. A sudden journey into the city without guards, just to see if he could keep up. And, sometimes… through food." Lucavion hummed. "Food?" Aeliana nodded. "She had this idea—this ridiculous idea—that she could shock him by turning me into a gourmet." Lucavion's smirk deepened. "Now that, I did not expect." Aeliana rolled her eyes. "Neither did my father. He thought she was teaching me swordsmanship behind his back. He never would have guessed that instead of training my form, she was sneaking me into Stormhaven's markets to taste street food." Lucavion chuckled. "That's certainly one way to go about it." Aeliana's smile was sharper now, tinged with fond mischief. "She wanted to prove something. That I could be more than what was expected of me. That I could develop a skill, a passion, completely separate from the rigid path set for me." She shrugged. "And she knew that if I suddenly displayed an understanding of fine cuisine, my father wouldn't know what to do with himself." Lucavion exhaled in amusement, shaking his head. "So, let me get this straight. Your mother—the free-spirited swordswoman—took you, her noble-born daughter, and decided that the best way to throw your father off-balance was by turning you into a food connoisseur?" Aeliana smirked. "Precisely." Lucavion chuckled, leaning against the table. "That is truly something." Aeliana tapped a finger against her cup. "It was fun, you know. We'd slip away from the estate and visit small diners, bakeries, stalls. She made me describe flavors, compare techniques. She'd take me to noble feasts, and I'd have to analyze every dish. She called it my 'secret training.'" Lucavion hummed. "And did your father ever find out?" Aeliana exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "Not until it was too late."