Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!

The rest of the night passed without incident.

I slept like a log, undisturbed by the hushed voices outside my room. Apparently, Evelyn and Kaelira had gotten into a quiet argument sometime after I’d gone to bed, but I hadn’t cared enough to eavesdrop.

Their banter, the tension between them—it didn’t concern me. I had more pressing matters on my mind than the jealousy of a girl who hadn’t even confessed her feelings.

By morning, the sun streamed in through the window, a soft golden glow warming the wooden floorboards.

I pulled on my uniform without much thought, brushed my teeth, splashed cold water on my face, and styled my hair. No glamour. No pretense. Just another day where blood might be spilled.

Descending the creaky staircase of the inn, I found Kaelira already seated at the modest dining table near the hearth.

Her scarlet hair was tied up in her usual high ponytail, and she was leaning forward slightly, speaking to Evelyn in a calm but firm tone. Both of them turned as I approached.

"Good morning," I greeted, sliding into the empty chair beside them.

Kaelira gave me a nod. Evelyn responded with a stiff smile, clearly still stewing about something. I didn’t particularly care what.

The old innkeeper—grandmotherly and hunched, but surprisingly quick on her feet—brought over steaming bowls of broth and a plate of dense bread.

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We thanked her briefly, and I dug in without delay. I wasn’t here to entertain morning pleasantries. The day would be long, and I preferred to march on a full stomach.