Shattered Innocence: Transmigrated Into a Novel as an Extra

Chapter 191: Iron Matron (3)

"It's been a long time."

"Indeed it has." Lucavion shook his head, his playful grin fading into something softer, more nostalgic. His tone, once light and teasing, took on a more somber note as he spoke again. "If Master were here," he began, "he would have most likely said, 'The little bear has grown up to be a splendid one.'"

The sadness in his voice wasn't overwhelming, but it was enough to make Mariel's chest tighten. There was something deeper beneath the surface of his words—something that carried a weight far greater than just the passing of time. She sensed it immediately, the shift in the atmosphere, and before she could ask the question that was already forming in her mind, Lucavion spoke again.

"It's unfortunate," he said quietly, his eyes darkening slightly, "that he can no longer ask such a question."

The words settled like a heavy stone in the pit of Mariel's stomach. There was no need for further explanation; the answer was clear. The being of starlight, the one who had saved her, who had left such an indelible mark on her life, was gone. The realization hit her harder than she expected, a wave of sorrow washing over her, tempered only by the fact that she had known—deep down—that something had changed long ago.

For a moment, she stood there, processing the loss. Her mind drifted back to the countless times she had thought of him over the years, the gratitude she had never fully been able to express. And now, knowing that she would never have the chance to meet him again, the weight of that unspoken gratitude pressed down on her.

"I see," she said softly, her voice quieter now, laced with a sadness of its own.

Lucavion's eyes softened, and for a brief moment, there was a shared understanding between them—a mutual respect for the person who had touched both of their lives in such profound ways.

Mariel swallowed, her throat tight as she forced herself to remain composed. "Thank you," she said, her voice steady, though the sadness remained. "For telling me."

Lucavion gave her a small nod, his own grief carefully hidden behind the layers of his usual demeanor. "He spoke highly of you, you know," he said, a touch of warmth returning to his voice. "Even after all these years."

That brought a faint smile to Mariel's lips. "I'm honored," she replied, her voice tinged with both sorrow and pride. "Truly."

Just as the air between Mariel and Lucavion was beginning to settle into something more solemn, the clattering of footsteps and a cheery voice cut through the atmosphere.

"Boss?" Jorkin appeared with a plate balanced in one hand and a drink in the other, his brows raised in surprise when he saw Mariel standing there, deep in conversation. "What are you doing out here?" he asked, clearly taken aback by her presence at the bar.

Mariel, her expression now composed again, glanced at the drink and plate in his hands. Without answering his question, she reached out and took them from him with a calm, practiced motion.

"Bring me another drink," she said, her voice even, though the earlier tension still lingered in her eyes.

Jorkin blinked, momentarily stunned, before nodding. "Right away, boss." He hurried off without another word, though his thoughts were already racing.

'Who's this young man?'

Jorkin wondered as he glanced back at Lucavion while preparing the drink.

'Boss doesn't usually sit down with patrons, especially not during busy times like these. This must be someone important... or at least someone interesting enough to make her stop.'

He shook his head as he filled a glass. Mariel had always been selective about who she gave her time to. She wasn't the type to entertain idle chatter or be easily impressed.

'Whoever this guy is, he's got to be something special for the boss to stay and talk.'

Jorkin made his way back to the bar, placing the drink down in front of Mariel without saying a word. He could feel the subtle shift in her demeanor, the quiet intensity that meant she was in for a long conversation. He knew her well enough to recognize when something—or someone—had caught her attention.

As he walked away, Jorkin couldn't help but glance back once more, his curiosity piqued.

'Guess we'll see what this is all about,'

he thought, his mind buzzing with questions as he left Mariel and Lucavion to their conversation.

As Jorkin left them to their conversation, Lucavion glanced down at the meal and drink placed before him, his usual playful grin spreading across his face. He picked up the glass, swirling it briefly before leaning back in his seat.

"Let's not dwell on the past," he said, his voice casual, yet carrying a deeper weight underneath. "People come and people go. That's just how the world is supposed to be, isn't it?"

Mariel studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes catching the subtle nuance in his words. There was a sadness behind that grin, expertly hidden, but it was there.

Lucavion, for all his carefree demeanor, was someone who had learned to mask his true emotions behind a smile. She could see it now more clearly. But she appreciated the effort—his way of lightening the moment, of pushing them away from a potentially heavy conversation.

She respected that, and she knew better than anyone that dwelling on such feelings would do little good.

With a nod, she took a small sip from her glass of water, letting the cool liquid soothe her. "You're right," she replied simply, the unspoken understanding passing between them.

Lucavion gave her a small, acknowledging nod and then lifted his drink to his lips, taking a sip. The moment the liquid hit his tongue, however, his face immediately contorted into a grimace. His expression was priceless—a mix of surprise, disgust, and confusion all at once. The usually calm and collected young man seemed momentarily at a loss.

The drink, known as

Bitterroot Brew

, was notorious for its extremely harsh, bitter flavor. It wasn't a drink most people ordered willingly, and Mariel's eyes widened slightly as she realized what had happened. Seeing that it was Jorkin who had served the drink, the truth clicked into place.

'Of course. Jorkin's playing one of his little pranks,'

Mariel thought to herself, shaking her head with a bemused smile. It was a typical move from her employee, especially when he thought he could get away with it. And the way Lucavion's face twisted in reaction to the drink was precisely the kind of entertainment Jorkin loved.

Lucavion coughed lightly, trying to regain his composure, but the taste clearly lingered on his palate. He glanced down at the glass with suspicion, then back at Mariel, his eyes narrowing playfully.

"You… serve this to all your guests, or am I just special?" he asked, a strained chuckle escaping him.

Mariel couldn't hold back a small laugh. "Special indeed," she replied, her tone light. "It's not every day someone gets served Bitterroot Brew. Consider it an initiation."

Lucavion groaned dramatically, setting the glass down with exaggerated care. "Initiation, huh? I'll remember that next time."

Mariel just smiled, shaking her head slightly. It was a normal reaction to the Bitterroot Brew, after all. Jorkin's prank had landed, and for a moment, the mood lightened again, just as Lucavion had intended.

After his dramatic reaction to the Bitterroot Brew had subsided, Lucavion set his glass aside and leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting once again. "So, tell me," he said, his voice a touch more serious, "how did you meet my master? I'd love to hear the details."

Mariel paused for a moment, letting his question hang in the air. Her eyes drifted off, her thoughts taking her back to a time she hadn't revisited in quite a while. For a few seconds, the present faded away, replaced by memories of a distant past.

"When I was young," she began slowly, "I wasn't much different from the other children in our village—except for one thing. My family… we were stronger than most. My father, especially, was a well-known ranger, the protector of our village. We were proud of our role, proud to stand guard for the people."

Her gaze grew distant as she recalled those early years, a faint sadness creeping into her voice. "But that pride came at a cost. One day, the village was attacked. A monster, far beyond anything we had ever seen, came for us. My parents were the first to stand against it. They fought valiantly, but in the end, it wasn't enough. They died protecting us, protecting me."

She paused, taking a breath as the weight of the memory settled over her. "I was left alone after that, just a child with no family, no real direction. I didn't have the luxury of grieving properly. Instead, I picked up the mantle my parents left behind. I threw myself into training, learning the skills my father had once used to protect our home. It was my way of honoring them, of keeping their legacy alive."

Lucavion listened in silence, his gaze focused, though his face remained unreadable.

Mariel continued, her voice gaining strength as the memories unfolded. "I wanted to be strong. Stronger than my father or mother so that when the time came and I was in a similar situation, this time I wouldn't die. So that, the people I cared about wouldn't feel the same pain I felt at that time."