Transmigrated Into The True Heiress-Chapter 64: Passing

"Hey, Ephyra," he greeted with a smile, setting his bag down.

"Hey," Eira replied, glancing at him before focusing back on what she was writing.

"Guess what?"

Eira glanced up briefly, her eyebrow raised in curiosity, but her expression remained neutral. "What?"

Cyran leaned forward, grinning. "I’m almost done with the drawing! Just the finishing touches and we’re good to go."

"Oh, that’s fast."

"Yeah, I couldn’t resist leaving it halfway. I just kept on drawing. You should see it; it’s beautiful! I’ll show you during lunch in the art room."

Eira raised an eyebrow, a flicker of interest crossing her face despite herself. "I’ll look at it later," she replied, trying to keep her tone neutral.

Cyran didn’t seem to mind her nonchalant response. He flashed her a wide grin, obviously proud of his progress. "You won’t regret it, I promise. It’s gonna blow you away."

Eira offered a noncommittal shrug and returned to her notes.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class. Eira quickly packed away her notes, pushing her thoughts to the back of her mind as she focused on the lesson. Her eyes flickered to the door, where a few latecomers were slipping into their seats. Not a minute later, Malia and Orla walked into the class and headed toward them. Once they reached them, the sisters both settled into the chairs in front of their seats, but not without Malia’s daily style of overly enthusiastic greetings.

"Missed you, Ephyra!" Malia chirped. She plopped down into the chair in front of Eira, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "How was your morning? You look... different today. Did something happen?"

Eira paused for a moment, weighing her options. She could easily deflect, pretend nothing was wrong, but there was something in their eyes that made her hesitate. With a slow exhale, she allowed herself to respond, her tone flat. "It’s nothing much. Just woke up on the wrong side of the bed."

Malia raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Really? You know that we’re always here if you need to talk, right?" she said, her voice softening with genuine concern.

Eira gave her a tight-lipped smile, grateful for the offer but not ready to open up. "Thanks, but it’s fine. I just... have a lot on my mind."

Orla, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke up, her voice tinged with curiosity. "If you don’t mind me asking, is it about your family? You seem a little tense this morning."

She shrugged, not giving them much to work with. "It’s nothing personal. Just school stuff, you know?"

Malia seemed to buy it, though Orla still looked a little skeptical. But before either of them could ask further questions, the teacher entered the classroom, signaling the end of their brief conversation.

The class went on and on until it came to an end, followed by another class, then another, and at last the bell rang for lunch.

As the lunch bell rang, the classroom burst into activity, students gathering their things and heading for the door. Eira gathered her art supplies, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She hadn’t had much sleep the night before, and she had barely managed to focus during the last few periods.

When she stepped into the hallway, her eyes searched for Cyran. He was standing by the art room door, grinning widely as he waved her over.

"Ready to see it?" he asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

Eira gave a nonchalant nod, though a small part of her was curious despite herself. "Lead the way."

The two walked through the crowded hallway, Eira’s mind briefly flickering to the faces of students gossiping around her. Myra’s engagement had been the topic of choice.

They reached the art room, and Cyran swung open the door, ushering her in. The room was quiet, with only a few other students working at their easels. Cyran immediately headed to his corner, where his drawing lay on a large canvas.

Eira approached cautiously, her eyes scanning the unfinished artwork. The drawing was magnificent—there was no denying that. The colors flowed together in a way that made the piece feel alive. It depicted a red-haired female in a billowing red dress walking from a barren world to a vibrant one filled with life. Eira felt an odd pull in her chest as she stared at it, as if the image held some deeper meaning.

"It’s incredible," Eira said, though her voice lacked the usual enthusiasm. "You really outdid yourself."

Cyran beamed at her, clearly pleased with the praise. "Glad you think so. I was thinking we could add some finishing details during lunch—maybe add a few touches to the background. What do you think?"

Eira nodded absently. "Yeah, sure."

Cyran seemed to sense the shift in her mood. "Hey, are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today."

Eira hesitated for a moment, then gave him a small smile. "Just tired. It’s nothing."

He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press her further. Instead, he grabbed a set of brushes and began adding a few strokes to the background, giving Eira space to think.

But her thoughts wouldn’t settle. Every time she tried to focus on the painting, they returned to the same questions—the questions about Ephyra’s past, about the mysterious "Master" Elara had mentioned, and the strange sense of destiny that seemed to surround Ephyra’s family.

"Everything okay?" Cyran asked, noticing her distraction.

Eira snapped out of her thoughts, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just... thinking."

Cyran nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. He seemed to want to say more, but just as he opened his mouth, the door to the art room opened again, and Malia and Orla stepped inside.

"Hey, you two. Are you ready for the big reveal of our progress?" Malia chirped, her energy as high as ever.

"Hey, you two. Are you ready for the big reveal of our progress?" Malia chirped, her energy as high as ever.

Orla followed her in, a more subdued expression on her face,

Eira glanced at Cyran, then back at the two sisters. "You’ll have to wait for Cyran to finish."

Malia frowned but didn’t press further. "Alright, alright, we’ll wait. But, Ephyra, you really should talk to us if something’s bothering you. You can trust us, you know."

Eira forced a smile. "Thanks, but really, I’m fine."

The rest of the lunch period passed in a haze for Eira. Cyran finished the final touches on the drawing, but Eira’s thoughts were elsewhere.

And that was how the week went—going to school, ignoring Eliot, Marianna, and Myra. Getting to school, continuing the notes, sitting in class, listening to lectures, hanging out with Cyran, Malia and Orla during lunchtime, and helping Cyran with the project.

She didn’t get a call from Jania or Lyle, but she knew Jania was working on it, so she didn’t bother.

At last, Friday came—the day their project would be submitted and judged.