Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 93: Unsettling

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. What the hell was that? she wondered, her hands clutching the blanket tightly. The way Lyle spoke—so honest, so vulnerable—it was unlike anything she had ever expected from him.

And yet, it wasn’t comforting. It was terrifying.

Not because she thought he was lying, but because she knew he wasn’t. She just... Knew.

That made it all the more unsettling.

What kind of person feels relief in the presence of someone they barely know? What kind of person feels so deeply but denies the possibility of love?

Eira frowned, staring at the dimly lit room. What am I even to him? she asked herself for what felt like the hundredth time. She’d thought she was just a tool—his cure. But this? This was something else entirely.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

She stiffened, clutching the blanket tighter. "What now, Lyle?" she muttered under her breath. "Come in," she called out reluctantly, expecting him to barge in with another cryptic statement.

The door opened just a crack, and a maid’s face appeared. "Miss Eira, is there anything you require before I retire for the night?" the maid asked, her voice polite but weary.

Eira shook her head. "No, I’m fine. Thank you," she replied, trying to sound casual despite the tension in her chest.

The maid bowed slightly and disappeared, closing the door behind her. Eira let out another sigh, her head sinking deeper into the pillow.

She was too tired to think anymore, but sleep didn’t come easily. Her mind kept circling back to Lyle’s words, to the raw emotion in his voice, and to the way he looked at her—as if she was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

You made me feel things I have never felt before.

Those words echoed in her mind as she finally drifted off to sleep, her dreams filled with a swirl of violet eyes and unanswered questions.

As she drifted off to sleep, her dreams were filled with violet eyes and unspoken truths.

Later, when the room was silent and still, the door creaked open once more. Lyle entered quietly, moving to her bedside. He pulled the blanket up around her and, after a long moment of hesitation, slipped into the bed beside her.

Lyle lay down beside her with the utmost care, his movements so quiet and deliberate that even in the depths of her sleep, Eira didn’t stir. He rested on his side, propping his head on one hand as he watched her.

The vulnerability of her sleeping face struck him harder than he expected. It was rare to see Eira without her usual guarded expression. Now, with her features softened by sleep, she looked... peaceful. And that peace stirred something within him—a quiet, insistent need to protect her at all costs.

His fingers twitched, tempted to brush away the stray locks of hair framing her face, but he held back. Instead, he stayed motionless, content to simply watch her. For a man like Lyle, who had spent most of his life drowning in chaos, this moment of stillness felt like a lifeline.

He shifted slightly, his violet eyes darkening as he took in every detail—the slow rise and fall of her chest, the way her fingers clutched the blanket, the faint furrow in her brow as if even her dreams weren’t entirely free of conflict.

"Ephyra..." he whispered softly, the name carrying a weight of emotions he couldn’t quite name.

In truth, Lyle didn’t understand what was happening to him. He knew only that Eira was different. She made him different. Her presence had shattered the monotony of his existence, forcing emotions he’d long buried—or never felt at all—to surface. It wasn’t love, he was sure of that. Love was foreign, abstract. But whatever this was, it consumed him.

He reached out, his hand hovering just above hers, but pulled back at the last second. No, she wouldn’t appreciate waking up to find him here. He’d already overstepped by coming into her room, by staying when he should have left.

And yet, leaving felt impossible.

Lyle closed his eyes briefly, his jaw tightening.

When he opened them again, his resolve hardened. He didn’t know what he felt, and he didn’t care to name it. All he knew was that Eira’s safety and well-being were paramount. He’d already decided—she was his to protect, his to keep safe, no matter what that meant.

Carefully, he shifted closer, his hand finally brushing hers under the blanket. Her fingers twitched, but she didn’t wake. The faint contact grounded him, easing the restless energy always simmering beneath his calm exterior.

He stayed like that for a while, watching over her as the minutes ticked by. Finally, his eyes closed and he fell asleep.

But just as the first light of dawn began to creep into the room, Lyle stirred. He sat up slowly, careful not to wake her.

With one last glance at her sleeping form, he stood and left the room as quietly as he’d entered.

Eira woke to the soft rays of morning sunlight filtering through the curtains. She stretched lazily, her body still heavy with exhaustion but her mind surprisingly clear. For a moment, she simply lay there, savoring the rare comfort of a good night’s sleep.

But then, fragments of the previous night came rushing back—the conversation with Lyle, his strange confession, and the way he’d looked at her with those intense, unreadable eyes.

She sat up abruptly, her heart pounding. "What the hell is wrong with him?" she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair.

Her gaze fell to the bedside table, where the empty tray of food still sat. Everything felt so surreal, as if she’d stepped into some kind of bizarre dream where Lyle wasn’t the cold, calculated man she’d come to know but someone... different.

Shaking her head, Eira got out of bed and walked to the window, pulling the curtains aside. The morning air was crisp, and for a moment, she allowed herself to breathe deeply, trying to center herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in," she called, expecting a maid. But when the door opened, it was Jania who stepped inside, dressed casually this time around, her expression worried.