Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

After what happened, Arnold threw a quick celebration, and their utter shock immensely switched with enthusiasm as he roared to release several barrels of liquor in the cellar, and got the kitchen moving to prepare several treats.

They've been at it for quite some time now.

A lot of things happened, and it seemed the vassals under Arnold hadn't been currying favor to him but also the other Grand Dukes inside with the Crown Prince.

The noble ladies swarmed themselves to Veronica and Marianne, for the same thing.

But Nathalie knew that they knew how to handle themselves in this situation as she had more concerns upfront.

Everyone took their time, and so does Nathalie, but then she kept herself busy with Ashtra, which they understood.

"Ugh, what noisy pests!" Ashtra roared, but his voice greatly canceled with Nathalie's, soaring with ease in the air in a timely fashion. Thereafter, he squinted his blue eyes at her then back to the crowd.

Yet they could care less for they were too drunk to notice his menacing countenance.

[I do appreciate it if you let it slide for now, though. This is the first time we've ever had this since forever.]

"Do you think I care?"

[For the record; you've been one of the major concerns here in the Blackwell Grand Duchy…] Nathalie arched her eyebrows to intriguing heights as she wasn't the one to back out from their conversation. [Now one gigantic thorn plucked would make life easier and brighter to look forward to, wouldn't it?]

"Fine! Fine! I don't like it here! So noisy!"

She rolled her eyes after scribbling, [Bear with it!] 

After the surprising yet utmost heartwarming celebration ever held in the Starbrooke Castle, most of them were about to return to their lands in a triumphant note—a worthy commemoration for another milestone reached by the Dysnomia Empire—as Athan spearheaded it as he was about to make waves to the Imperial Capital.

All of these characters that were deemed as Nathalie's enemies went forward to greet her for what was worth it.

The Salvatore siblings were side by side, clearly happy for the reunion and successful operation.

"Be at ease, Violette. Just have your moment as there are big things for you to come any time soon." Athan then reached for his hand with a lopsided grin, and Nathalie graciously accepted it.

[You don't really have to. Do whatever you like as you know what I don't want.]

"No promises."

At this point, Nathalie knew as per their agreement that the objective was a success, and it was fine for her not to take the credit if needed.

After they left, Nathalie looked around how the place was in a hot mess; in no words, she could describe how cluttered and wrecked the great hall was.

One after another, the other guests left until Jonathan's group was the last in line.

'I still have to talk to Jonathan about some serious matter.'

Jonathan rallied everyone, of those who were still sober from not—to carry on by themselves and come back safely to the Southern Territory. Despite the humongous crowd he brought, he was still in full control as he threw numerous orders one after another.

After which, he was also about to leave when Nathalie reached for his sleeve, making him stop for a little while. Upon turning around, he threw back a quizzical look. 

From there, she hinted that they had to talk things in private before they would part for quite some time.

"Dusk and Dawn!" He called the twins, who were beyond sober, and saluted in front of him. "Both of you, lead them for now. I shall follow on my way back."

Without a doubt, they paused for a minute, only to gape at Jonathan's suggestive gaze with head curtly leaning at Nathalie. 

"Understood, Your Grace," Dawn responded, then before Dusk could utter with such liveliness, the former dragged the latter by the ear, and he only let out a train of groan.

For when Nathalie thought that the cheers would die out anytime soon, she still looked around as she made a steeple on her fingertips, lips trembling apart from what she witnessed.

'Although as much as I wanted to talk to Father, everyone is still thriving with joy…' she thought. 'This might be a good chance for us...'

Withal, Nathalie beckoned Jonathan to go for the upper floor with a private balcony.

When she was about to hold his hand, she noticed a tug from the other side of her sleeve; in a subtle turn happened to be Keith, who now looked at her with a concerned gaze.

Looking at his eyes, burning so intense and passionate, always gave her palpitations and her gut a hard time coping up. She would've looked the other way 

"My Lady, a penny for your thoughts?"

[Not that much.] She snapped towards the clock, acting as if she almost ran out of time, prattling, [I have to be quick, Keith. I'll be back—entertain—Ashtra, clear?]

Keith, on the other hand, blinked his eyes several times but ended up sighing as he was obliged to do so.

Now, Nathalie reached for Jonathan, tugging him for a while to where they wanted to go.

Soon as the Grand Duke of Blackwell let loose, the crowd inside the castle had never been this chaotic, at least in a good way.

Even the Starbrooke Castle, from within, had never been this lively, not even had this last long: cheers, hearty roars, and a round of applause. The atmosphere brimmed with brilliance as it resonated with the edifice.

Out of all, it was none other than his father, Arnold, who became too rowdy and rambunctious. He let out a hearty roar and blessed almost every servant and footman within the castle with bountiful rations and a handful of coinage to spare.

"Your Grace is beyond benevolent in his own right!"

"Indeed, many thanks Your Grace for this bountiful gift you've bestowed upon us!"

"Your Grace! Your Grace!"

All of them gestured at him with deep reverence, like a God. Meanwhile, Arnold went along with them despite brushing them off ever-so-slightly.

"Fools! None of this would've happened if not for you all!" Arnold cackled aloud with hands on his hips. 

"Your Grace is wise!"

They all concurred and praised him in unison. By and by, the sudden clamors and chatters eventually died out in their ears.

But then, of all places, Nathalie brought him to her bed-chamber and pushed him enough to open the doors.

Soon as she locked it, she leaned on the door, panting for a while. Then, she wrote, [Jonathan, I feel something wrong—]

But then, Jonathan only had a smug smirk, cutting her off as he uttered, "You mean you're still trying to rationalize or deny your feelings for him?"