Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 176: Glad

She caught her soft smile in the mirror, then shook her head like she was embarrassed by her expression, and kept walking.

When she entered the living room, her eyes immediately landed on him.

Lyle was already waiting, dressed in—of course—the matching colors. Dark brown short-sleeve button-up, tucked neatly into light beige trousers, and finished off with chunky black loafers that somehow made him look like a damn magazine ad for "husband material of the century."

He turned toward her at the sound of her steps, and the way his face lit up—instantly, effortlessly—made her stomach do something that felt suspiciously like somersaults.

It still surprised her sometimes. How easily he smiled now. Not like before—back when every smile felt like a negotiation. Now it was like the sun breaking through clouds.

And dammit, she loved seeing it.

Ephyra strolled up to him, her own smile tugging wider as he said her name in that smooth, rich tone of his. Her name sounded different in his mouth. Fuller.

"Good morning, Lyle," she greeted, voice sweet and teasing. "You look great."

He chuckled—genuinely, deeply—and reached out to take her hand, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles like it was second nature.

"Thank you," he said. "But I believe we’ve seen each other already this morning."

"And I believe I hadn’t showered at the time," she quipped. "If you’d said I looked beautiful then, I would’ve called an optometrist."

Lyle shook his head slowly, his thumb brushing across her knuckles. "You looked beautiful then. You look beautiful now."

Ephyra’s grin widened, pleased and flustered and completely wrecked internally, though her face was cool as ever. "Well, thank you, Master Lyle."

Then, on a pure impulse, she tiptoed up, pecked him quickly on the cheek—and bolted.

Straight-up fled the room like a scandalized debutante in a regency drama.

Lyle blinked, clearly not expecting the peck—but more than that, definitely not expecting her to run. Not from him. Not after last night.

He stared at the door she disappeared through, stunned for about two seconds, then broke into a quiet laugh. It was a soft, amused chuckle, the kind of sound you make when someone’s gotten under your skin in the best possible way.

"Ephyra..." he murmured to no one in particular, smiling to himself, "you drive me insane."

He grabbed the car keys from the table and followed her out, the morning light casting golden streaks across the floor.

Even if she tried to run, he would always find her.

They took a ferry to the little island, tucked just off the southern coast—a scenic spot known more to locals than tourists. From the moment they stepped onto its quiet, sun-drenched shores, everything slowed down. The usual noise of their lives—the expectations, secrets, and history—faded like background static.

They spent the entire day in peace.

Hand in hand, they wandered through cobbled streets lined with cozy cafes and colorful storefronts. They stopped to chat with other travelers and sampled dishes neither of them could pronounce but still devoured with unfiltered delight. From the smell of spiced pastries to the sound of waves hitting the dock, it was a day wrapped in gentleness and wonder.

At one cafe, they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the ferries come and go while sipping local citrus tea that Ephyra insisted was too tangy—and then promptly finished.

In another moment, Lyle bought a sketch from a street artist—of a faceless couple that looked suspiciously like them. "Souvenir," he said simply, and Ephyra rolled her eyes but didn’t let go of his hand. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Ephyra laughed at everything while Lyle watched her, smiling at her delight. They took pictures of nothing. Wandered until their feet ached and still didn’t want to leave.

When they weren’t walking, they were sitting—on low stone walls, on shaded benches, sometimes on the edge of the pier with their shoes off, letting the saltwater lick their toes. They talked. They didn’t talk. It didn’t matter. Being in each other’s presence was enough.

Ephyra threw every other thought to the back of her mind.

Whether it was the secret surrounding her biological family...

Her past life as Eira...

The assassination attempt which led to her death that started everything...

Or the college she was supposed to be attending...

None of it mattered today.

She wasn’t Eira. She wasn’t even Ephyra, the target or the survivor. She was just her, in this moment, right here—with him.

This was what mattered.

This was great and more than enough.

Ephyra turned, glancing back at Lyle with a quiet, private smile as they weaved through a crowded lane. She tugged his hand, gently leading him forward.

"Come on," she urged. "It should be just ahead."

Lyle raised an eyebrow. "The mystery restaurant?"

"Not a mystery. It’s new. And it has my favorite food on the menu," she replied with a mock-haughty tone.

He played along. "Ah, so naturally, we must go. National emergency if not."

She didn’t say it out loud—but that dish... the one she saw on the chalkboard menu posted online... was the same one her mother used to make.

For her. For her siblings.

As they navigated through the bustling crowd, Lyle caught her gaze again. His eyes softened, understanding her in that instinctive, unspoken way that had become so natural between them in such a short time. Without needing to ask.

He leaned in, brushed a light kiss to her temple, then drew back with a smirk and took the lead.

"Let’s get there before they run out," he said.

They stayed out until evening—until the sun melted into amber streaks across the sky and the streetlamps flickered on one by one. Then, with the scent of sea salt still clinging to their clothes and the taste of laughter lingering between them, they headed back to the hotel.

———

They reached the hotel just as twilight began folding its velvet arms over the sky. The warmth of the day still clung to the air.

As they stepped into the lobby, Ephyra looked up at Lyle with that easy smile she’d grown more comfortable showing him.

"I say we just have dinner at the hotel’s restaurant," she said, stretching her arms behind her as they headed to the elevator.

Lyle tilted his head slightly. "If that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do. Though I’d rather eat your cooking."

Ephyra rolled her eyes at that, grinning. "You sweet talker. The ingredients in the fridge are basically a crime scene. I want to cook you a proper meal—like, full-course, home-cooked, soul-reviving type of feast. But not with what’s in there."

He raised a brow, amused. "I see... So when do I get the royal treatment?"

"When we get back to the mansion," she replied with a wink. "I’ll make breakfast. Or lunch. Or dinner. Or all three. Whichever meal you want to associate with falling hopelessly in love."

He chuckled at that, eyes glinting with fondness. "I’ll take the full combo."

They parted at the hallway leading to their rooms.

"I need to make a call," Lyle told her, brushing a hand against her arm. "Freshen up if you can. I’ll do the same."

Ephyra nodded, feeling the sun and sweat from earlier still clinging to her skin like invisible glitter. She was pretty sure she could fry an egg on her shoulder.

So she did just that—freshened up, changed her clothes, and took a moment to breathe.

She slipped into a simple but captivating black evening gown. It hugged her just right—fitted along her frame like it had been sewn just for her. The ankle-length dress had a delicate asymmetrical hem that swayed as she walked, and two soft bows on each shoulder gave the look a girlish charm to balance out the sleekness. Black heels added some height, though she didn’t really need it—she just liked the click they made on marble floors. Her long, red hair was left down, cascading in loose waves.

And when she stepped into the lobby again, Lyle was already there.

Of course he was.

She stopped short for half a second, blatantly staring.

He was dressed head to toe in black—but not just any black. He wore a ribbed long-sleeve polo sweater with a crisp collar, tucked cleanly into tailored black pants. A sleek leather belt with a silver buckle cinched his waist just right, and the dress shoes polished off the look like he’d walked straight out of a fashion magazine.

Hot. Bad. Boy. Vibes.

Ephyra pouted as she approached, unable to help it.

"You’re not fucking allowed to be hotter than me," she muttered under her breath.

He turned toward her with a small smile and extended his arm. She took it, her fingers curling gently around the crook of his elbow.

Lyle glanced down at her. "What are you smiling at?"

Ephyra pressed her palm to her lips, suppressing a full-blown giggle. "Not telling."

His eyes sparkled with mischief, but he didn’t press.

It wasn’t until they were standing side by side in the elevator—bathed in the warm, golden light from the chandelier above—that she broke.

"It’s just... you look like a billionaire villain trying to seduce the heroine before she ruins his evil plan."

Lyle blinked. Then he laughed softly, leaning down and brushing a gentle kiss to her lips.

"I’m glad," he whispered.

She could still feel that kiss when they reached the restaurant floor.

But the moment the elevator doors opened, her amusement shifted into confusion.

The restaurant was stunning—far more upscale than she expected for a hotel. Marble floors, soft candlelight, glass windows looking out into the city skyline like it was their private art piece. But more than that... it was empty.

Not just quiet. Empty.

Not a single other soul in sight.

Ephyra blinked and turned to him.

"Did we get here before the dinner rush, or...?"

Lyle stepped forward, then looked back at her over his shoulder.

"I reserved the whole place," he said simply.

Like it was no big deal.

Like that kind of thing just... happened.

Ephyra gawked. "You what?!"

Lyle smiled, only slightly smug. "I wanted privacy. For us."

She could only stare.

And then—laugh. The kind of stunned, disbelieving laugh that tumbles out when someone’s just flipped the entire script of your evening and casually handed you the leading role in a romance movie.

"Lyle," she said, shaking her head, "you are ridiculous."

But she followed him anyway.

Of course she did.

Because deep down... she loved it.