Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 96. A Good Child

Roaming quietly in front of a door with a brass plaque that read ’Miss Celia’, a white-haired girl stood with her hands folded nervously.

Amelia Everhart.

Her usually regal bearing was replaced by something more subdued—more delicate.

Her crimson eyes, bright and resolute during sword practice or political debates, now flicked left and right with the awkward hesitation of someone unsure of her place.

She had been waiting for several minutes now.

She didn’t knock.

She didn’t want to be rude.

Disturbing Miss Celia during what little peace and quiet she got felt... impolite.

And Amelia had never liked being an inconvenience.

Especially not to someone like Celia, who, despite her unassuming demeanor, had more authority in Rose Academy than even some of the nobles.

So Amelia simply paced. Back and forth in the long corridor of the faculty wing’s third floor.

Her shoes made soft tapping sounds against the marble, and occasionally, she would glance at the sunlight streaming through the tall windows lining the wall.

The day outside was gentle. The warmth of early spring breeze touched the academy gardens, fluttering the newly bloomed petals.

It contrasted too harshly with what she was feeling.

After a while, the door creaked open.

Miss Celia stepped out, looking refreshed. Her hair was tied up in a loose bun.

Her long skirt swayed softly as she walked, and her spectacles caught the light just so.

The moment she saw Amelia pacing, a brief flicker of surprise passed her eyes.

"Miss Amelia?" Celia tilted her head, one brow quirking. "Why are you here? You’ve been waiting long?"

Startled, Amelia flinched before quickly regaining her composure. She adjusted the pleats of her uniform and gave a small bow.

"Good morning, Miss Celia," she said softly. "I... I was hoping to speak with you for a moment, if that’s alright."

Celia regarded her for a heartbeat before offering a patient nod. "I see."

There was a pause.

Then she gave a tired but knowing smile. "You must be worried about your parents, right?"

Amelia’s eyes widened slightly. Her lips parted, but no words came.

"You don’t have to be embarrassed," Celia continued, her voice kind but firm. "It’s the beginning of the academic year. You won’t fall behind in your studies from a short absence. Go. Take a break. Be with your family."

Amelia’s expression softened. She smiled, though her eyes glistened faintly with emotion.

"...How did you know?" she asked quietly, almost like a whisper.

Celia stepped closer and reached out, gently ruffling her white hair.

"Child... I’m your homeroom teacher. It’s my job to notice these things. Besides," she added with a half-sigh, "the situation in Everhart territory isn’t exactly a secret right now."

Amelia lowered her head, hiding her expression behind a curtain of white strands.

Then she bowed deeply. "Thank you, Miss Celia. Truly... thank you."

With her teacher’s blessing secured, she turned and bolted down the hallway.

No more hesitation. No more waiting.

...

The portal station was located in the 20th wing of the main building.

Amelia was in the 3rd.

A long way.

She sprinted through arched corridors, passed by dormitories, lecture halls, and courtyards.

Students glanced at her as she moved, surprised to see the Everhart heiress running—skirts pulled up slightly, hair bouncing with each step.

But she didn’t care.

She couldn’t care.

Her heart thundered louder than her footsteps.

Eventually, she arrived at the courtyard near the main hall. A wide circular space paved in white stone and surrounded by low flower hedges.

In the center stood an oval-shaped device, silver and gleaming with embedded runes that shimmered faintly in the light.

The Portal Nexus.

Two guards stood watch on either side of it, clad in full metal armor. Their helmets covered their entire faces—emotionless visors hiding whatever judgment or curiosity they might’ve held.

Amelia slowed her pace as she approached.

Her breathing was slightly labored from the run, but her posture remained composed.

"I would like to use the portal," she said, trying to catch her breath but not seem winded.

The guard on the right gave a small nod.

"50 credits," he replied flatly, voice filtered through his helmet.

Amelia nodded and tapped the student sigil badge pinned to her uniform. Her remaining balance glowed faintly in the air before her.

300 credits. Cassius had already topped up her account with 200 credits before the school term began.

Her hands clutched together near her chest as she murmured under her breath, "Thanks, Cassius..."

She transferred the fee with a soft tap.

« -50 Credits »

The runes on the device brightened.

A shimmering blue portal materialized within the metallic frame, swirling like water stirred in moonlight.

"Focus on the location you wish to travel to," the left guard instructed. "The device will take care of the rest."

Amelia nodded once.

She took a slow, calming breath.

Then closed her eyes.

Her room.

Not the guest room in Rose Academy.

Not some distant outpost.

But her room.

The one she grew up in.

The one with the rose-tinted curtains and sky-painted ceiling. The one where she used to read while her mother sang in the garden outside.

’Take me home.’

And she stepped in.

...

The shimmering light of the portal faded behind her, and Amelia found herself standing in the center of a pale white marbled room, tall ceilings stretching above her like the sky of a noble’s dream.

Gleaming chandeliers hung like frozen constellations, their crystal edges glinting in the light filtering through the large, arched windows.

The room was ornate, elegant—home.

Expensive paintings adorned the walls in golden frames, and intricate furniture with crimson embroidery gave the chamber a regal warmth.

Every curtain was a familiar deep red, the shade of Everhart’s colors. She could smell the faint trace of blooming roses from the courtyard beyond the windows.

A scent she had grown up with. One that comforted her heart.

A quiet breath escaped her lips, trembling with relief. She had returned.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she pushed open the heavy doors of her chamber and broke into a run down the familiar halls.

Her heart knew where to go.

The garden.

She didn’t need to ask. Her mother would be there. And if not for her mother’s presence, then certainly her father’s.

The corridors passed in a blur of white marble and crimson drapes. Servants noticed her presence and bowed, but she didn’t stop.

The air outside the estate was brisk but sweet, and the moment her feet hit the grassy path of the garden, the world felt still.

And then—she saw her.

Sitting on a wrought-iron swing beneath a flowering tree, a woman dressed in a soft green gown swayed ever so slightly with the breeze.

Her long white hair flowed freely, catching the sun, and her green eyes—so similar to Amelia’s—stared distantly at nothing.

Her posture was motionless, a statue carved by anxiety and time.

She looked stuck, not by choice, but by the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Amelia stood there for a moment, watching her.

Her heart ached.

She smiled softly. Of course she’d be here—trying to find clarity in a world that refused to give it.

And like a child returning from war, Amelia crept forward silently.

She reached out her arms and wrapped them tightly around her mother’s shoulders from behind.

The older woman stiffened in surprise—but only for a moment. Her hands gently reached up and clasped Amelia’s, pulling them closer into an embrace.

"Amelia?" she asked, a hint of disbelief. "What are you doing here, child? Don’t you have studies to attend to?"

Amelia buried herself deeper into the warm, familiar scent of her mother’s presence. Her voice was soft and slightly muffled. "I spoke to my teacher. She permitted me to take leave. I... I missed you."

The woman’s lips curled into a faint smile. She reached back and caressed her daughter’s cheek with the tenderness only a mother could give.

"Silly goose," she whispered. "We’re safe and sound. I know your heart must’ve been in knots worrying about the estate and the two of us."

Amelia nodded against her shoulder. "Yes, I was. I... I know I wasn’t supposed to leave without permission, but I couldn’t help it. I had to come."

Those words struck deeper than either expected. Her mother’s smile trembled, and for a heartbeat, her green eyes clouded with sorrow.

"You’ve suffered more than you should, Amelia. Maybe this coming war is the world’s punishment—not for our enemies, but for us... for forcing roles upon our children, for never giving you the freedom to choose."

Amelia gripped her hand tightly. "No, Mother. Parents have a right to guide their children. And I don’t think this is karma. If anything, those wretched Opalcrest mongrels are the ones who should fear retribution."

Her mother chuckled quietly, shaking her head at her daughter’s stubborn strength. She reached forward and gently cupped Amelia’s face again.

"You really are a good child."

Amelia blushed faintly, lowering her eyes before asking, "Where is Father? Is he working again?"

The woman sighed, brushing a stray white strand from her face. "Yes. He’s out in the town. Not just to reassure the people... he’s searching."

Amelia frowned. "Searching?"

"For traitors," her mother answered with a sad smile. "Spies. Those who would turn their backs on the Everhart name."

Amelia was silent for a moment. She didn’t argue. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe such people didn’t exist.

No matter how justly you ruled, some would always find reasons to betray. Jealousy, ambition, hatred... they festered in the hearts of the weak-minded.

"When will he be back?" she asked softly.

Her mother shrugged gently. "Possibly by evening. He’s being cautious. As he should be."

Amelia nodded.

"How long will you be staying?" her mother asked.

"Until my class arrives for their training," Amelia replied. "A week or so."

There was a small pause before she added with a sheepish voice, "Is that okay?"

Her mother turned fully now, embracing her completely. "Yes, my dear child. It’s more than okay."

Amelia smiled, sinking into the warmth of her arms once more.

Then her mother’s voice shifted—lower, tinged with something unspoken.

"Amelia..."

"...Yes?" she asked, pulling back slightly.

"If we lose this war," her mother said softly, "I want you to give up your responsibilities as an heir. Because if the Everharts fall... then the house will cease to exist. You won’t need to bear our ideals anymore. You’ll be free to live your life how you choose."

Amelia blinked, the weight of those words settling deep in her chest.

"Even if we don’t lose... even if by some miracle we survive... we would still want that for you. We would still want you to choose for yourself."

Amelia grasped her mother’s trembling hands. "We won’t lose."

Her mother shook her head, smiling gently through the pain. "That’s kind of you to believe. But the truth is... we’re too weak, Amelia. If we weren’t, we wouldn’t have had to arrange your engagement without your consent. I know you didn’t love him. And I hate myself for not giving you a choice."

Amelia slowly shook her head. "I understand, Mother. I really do. And I accepted it because it was my duty. As your daughter. As an Everhart."

Her mother looked like she might cry. But she didn’t. She just held Amelia’s hand and whispered, "We’re lucky to have you. Truly."

She exhaled long and slow. "Without the Lancasters, we would have perished long ago. This war... it isn’t even a war. If we fought head-on, we’d be slaughtered. The only reason we’re still alive is because of your engagement to Lucian’s son. That union was our only path to survival."

Amelia was silent.

She looked toward the distant sky beyond the garden trees.

And whispered, "...Then I’ll make that path worth something."

This chapt𝒆r is updated by free(w)ebnovel(.)com