Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

The morning of the Entrance Banquet broke not with fanfare, but with tension—tight and expectant, like the breath held before a blade meets bone. Dawnlight spilled through the windows of the dining hall in gentle waves, brushing across fresh linen, silver cutlery, and untouched platters of fruit and spice-glazed bread. Everything had been set early. Immaculate. Waiting.

They came one by one.

Caeden first, as always. Crisp, upright, quiet. He moved with the kind of discipline bred from noble courts and dueling halls, though his gaze flicked once toward the high windows like even he wasn’t immune to the day’s weight.

Elayne arrived second, hair already half-tied, her presence composed but not cold. She nodded to Caeden silently, seating herself at the end of the table, eyes scanning the room as though checking for invisible threads that might have moved overnight.

Toven stumbled in next, still rubbing sleep from his eyes and muttering curses at the sun. "They could’ve let us rest. One more hour. Or half. Or five minutes."

Mireilla followed with a smirk and a braid half-done, chewing a piece of jerky like it was breakfast for champions. "You’ll wake up when you see your outfit. Bet it’ll shine so bright you’ll mistake yourself for royalty."

And then—

Lucavion.

He entered with the same casual grace as always, dressed in a loose black tunic with faint stitching around the collar, looking for all the world like he’d just strolled in from some private rehearsal for a duel that hadn’t yet been announced.

He said nothing as he poured himself tea. But there was something different in the air around him.

Stillness.