Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 55: Reprieve

Jania stopped in front of a sleek, reinforced door embedded with a small, touch-sensitive panel. She pressed her thumb to it, and the door slid open with a faint hiss, revealing the room beyond—a room that, if seen by anyone other than herself, Doctor Liam, Butler Kai, or Master Lyle, would cause them to faint from shock.

The space was dimly lit, casting a soft, bluish glow over everything and creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. As she stepped inside, her eyes traced the clean lines and minimalist design—functional yet infused with advanced technology that wasn’t supposed to exist in the present but rather in the distant future.

The walls were a blend of smooth, reflective glass and matte panels, housing numerous hidden devices that hummed quietly with life. To the left, a large, transparent screen displayed Lyle’s vital signs in real-time, flickering with graphs and numbers that updated every second. Below it, a console with sleek, touch-sensitive buttons allowed for manual adjustments to his treatment.

Against the far wall was a medical bed that looked more like a capsule than a traditional bed. Smoothly curved and cushioned with memory gel, it was equipped with retractable arms ending in small, precise instruments that could monitor or administer care as needed. Above the bed, an array of lights hung, each casting different hues meant to support Lyle’s recovery—everything from stimulating red to calming blue, all programmable and adjustable based on his needs.

To the right, a compact set of drawers held sterile equipment and supplies, but Jania knew they also contained more advanced devices that could aid in cellular repair and energy restoration. These weren’t ordinary medical supplies; they were engineered specifically for Lyle’s unusual condition, discreet yet powerful—a subtle testament to the lengths he went to maintain himself.

Near the bed, a slender robotic arm extended from the wall, ready to inject nutrients or medication through an IV line connected to his arm. The arm could also administer stimulants to maintain his energy levels or sedatives for rest, depending on what his body required. Even the air had a distinct quality—filtered through advanced purification systems, it carried a faint hint of antiseptic mixed with floral scents designed to ease stress and calm the mind.

Jania bowed briefly at Lyle, who was resting on a chair with his arm, currently being injected, placed on the smooth table beside him. "You called for me."

"Is she asleep?" Lyle asked without opening his eyes, his bare upper body dotted with wires as he rested in the chair.

"I’m not sure, but I personally led her to her room," Jania responded.

Lyle didn’t say anything. Instead, he removed the small noise-canceling device from his ear, and like an explosion, countless sounds rushed in—the soft hums within the room, the faint echoes throughout the mansion, even noises from beyond its walls. They all flooded his mind, clear and loud. He closed his eyes for a moment, sifting through the chaos with intense focus, tuning out the irrelevant and honing in on what he needed.

When he caught the soft, even breathing of Eira in her room, he replaced the device.

"Propose a partnership between one of our top laboratories and the Lathams. Also, extend a job offer to Alc Architectures to build a new branch. Ephyra changed her mind; she wants a large gathering, so ensure there’s a party celebrating both the partnership and the engagement of Ephyra’s ex-fiancé and her stepsister in a week. Make sure everyone who matters attends." He paused. "Provide her with everything she needs, including the stage she has to perform on."

Jania nodded. "Actually, Master Lyle, I investigated the stepmother and told Ephyra everything I found out. She suspects Myra isn’t her father’s child, so she’s asked me to find someone who might know and confirm it."

"It shouldn’t take you more than a week to uncover the truth."

"Of course. Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"No, you can go."

As Jania turned to leave, Lyle spoke again, his voice softer this time, though his eyes remained closed.

"Find dirt on the Lathams while you’re at it."

"Understood," Jania replied, glancing at him one last time before leaving the room.

Once the door shut behind her, Lyle finally opened his eyes, but they weren’t their usual violet. Instead, they were a dark blue, almost black, with dark lines sprawled across the sclera like creeping tree roots, weaving toward his irises. Each line pulsed with an ache that would have driven anyone else mad, yet Lyle was long accustomed to it.

For a few seconds, he remained motionless, staring at nothing in particular. Then his gaze shifted to the large screen beside him, tracking his vital signs. The numbers ticked downward, his heart rate slowing unnaturally. A steady, undeterred calm remained in his expression—this wasn’t new. Anyone else would be in a coma or on life support at this point, but for Lyle, it was nothing. He could survive even if his heart ceased its rhythm for several minutes.

Every month, he returned to this hidden room to stabilize his body, relying on fluids and technology that offered only a temporary reprieve.

In that moment, Ephyra’s scent lingered faintly in his mind, soothing the pain as though she were beside him. When he first met her, it was as if the endless hurt had vanished, even if only for a few hours. Now, the urge to tear away the wires, stride into her room, and hold her close—to let her presence dull the ache—it gripped him tightly.

Instead, he closed his eyes, suppressing the compulsion with a deep breath. Over time, he’d learned that solving her problems—ensuring her satisfaction—offered its own form of relief. It was a strange dynamic, yet one he couldn’t fully understand. Somehow, protecting and providing for her eased his condition.

His mind worked faster than any machine in the room, processing possibilities, contingencies, and plans. The gathering he had just instructed Jania to organize would be a performance stage for Ephyra’s revenge.

Even as he calculated every step, his mind endured the constant barrage of amplified sensations. It felt as though his skull might split apart from the pressure, but he didn’t flinch. This had been his existence for years, and he had long since learned to survive it. The one variable that had changed everything was her.

Lyle’s gaze flicked back to the monitor as a sharp spike in his readings caught his attention. His heart rate, erratic moments ago, had steadied slightly, as though even the thought of her had a stabilizing effect. His lips curved into a faint, wry smile.

She wasn’t just his cure. She was his sanity. His salvation. And he would do whatever it took to keep her close, no matter what—or who—stood in his way.

|The Next Morning|

Sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the academy, casting long streaks of light across the polished floors. The early morning hush was only disturbed by the faint rustle of papers and distant murmurs as a few students trickled in. Eira adjusted the strap of her bag over her shoulder, her shoes clicking softly against the marble as she made her way toward her classroom.

She went straight to her seat, ignoring the two girls sitting by the window, and dropped her bag on the desk. Then, she pulled out her phone, intending to call Cyran and ask him when he would arrive.

She’d forgotten to message him last night.

Eira dialed his number, and the phone rang, but he didn’t pick up.

Maybe he’s on his way, she thought as she ended the call and made her way out of the classroom toward the art room.

She hadn’t expected anyone to be there yet, but as she pushed open the door and stepped inside, her eyes landed on a familiar figure seated at the far end of the room.

"Cyran?" she called out, her voice tinged with surprise.

Cyran lifted his head at the sound of her voice, his pencil pausing mid-stroke on the sketchpad resting on the desk in front of him. A small smile broke across his face when he saw her.

"Eira." His voice was soft, almost soothing, as he set the pencil down. "I didn’t expect you to be here so early."

"I could say the same for you," she replied, stepping closer to him. Her gaze shifted to the sketchpad, curiosity piqued by what he was working on. "I called you just now. You didn’t answer."

He glanced at his phone, which was face down on the table. "I didn’t hear it. Sorry," he said, his tone apologetic.

Eira waved off his apology with a casual gesture. "It’s fine," she said lightly and walked around the desk, her eyes catching sight of the drawing. It was a half-finished sketch of a landscape—stormy skies over jagged cliffs, waves crashing below with a ferocity that mirrored something deep and unspoken.

"This is... intense," she commented, leaning slightly over his shoulder to get a better look. "What’s it for?"

Cyran hesitated, his fingers brushing over the edge of the paper. "Nothing, really. Just... thoughts," he said, his voice trailing off.

Eira straightened, her brows furrowing slightly as she studied him. He looked more serious than usual—his jaw tight, his posture tense. She wondered if something had happened. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her tone gentle but probing.

He gave her a faint smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m fine. Just thinking about a lot of things," he replied, his voice low.

Eira frowned, unconvinced. "You know, you don’t have to keep everything to yourself. If something’s bothering you—"

"It’s nothing," Cyran interrupted gently but firmly. Then, as if to steer the conversation away from himself, he gestured toward her. "What about you? Why are you here so early?"

Eira shrugged, leaning back against the edge of the desk. "I thought we could start our project as early as possible. I was supposed to call you last night so we could discuss the theme, but I forgot."

"Do you already have a theme in mind?" Cyran asked, his tone softening as he tilted his head curiously.

Eira pursed her lips in thought. "Yes, but I wanted to ask if you also had a theme in mind," she said, watching him carefully.

Cyran waved a dismissive hand. "I do, but I’m sure others will have thought of it too."

"What is it?" Eira asked, intrigued.

Cyran shrugged. "New Beginnings," he said simply.

Eira couldn’t help but laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" Cyran asked, his brows knitting together.

"Sorry," Eira said, stifling her amusement. "It’s just that it’s similar to the theme I had in mind."

"Really? What is it?" Cyran asked, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity.

Eira looked at him, her expression softening into a gentle smile. "Rebirth."