Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

The room was spacious, and across the tinted stonewalls with large roots slithering across its surface.

Aside from the crepuscular rays from the distant verdant wands of pine beaming to the earthen ground of the room, leaves on the branches flourished with fireflies found on it that gave a natural glow from the room.

Nathalie was on the spacious, cozy beige bed, resting for who knew how long it was then. A spacious room was where she got accommodated and no one was in the room other than Keith.

'Ugh, I feel so heavy and groggy…'

Keith, who leaned near the window that looked like tree hollows, with arms and legs crossed. He wore the usual uniform he had as a dignified commander, with badges and tassels on his embroidered coat and sleeves, pairing well with his trousers. 

All Nathalie heard was orchestral chirps and buzzes in her ears; with her body having such a hard time moving an inch, she had no choice but to listen to such noises that weren't her cup of tea.

'The fresh arboreal scent is refreshing… Soothing my lungs…'

She thought to herself if she was ever this tired or the greatest moment throughout her life where every fiber of her muscles had gone weary. Even from her temples ticked with a slight tinge of pain, spreading all over her head.

'What's… Wrong with me—? No, calm down…'

Though she wasn't the one to give up.

Even then, her fingers twitched a tad bit, and a glint came on Keith's eyes, brisking his way to her side. 

Nathalie's heart skipped a beat when realization dawned upon her that there was someone in the room other than her, and she noticed it rather late. But she tried her best to remain composed and act like she was still asleep.

Her mind was still in a boggle, pulling away from the fresh debacle reigning in her mind. Dwelling on her physical and mental condition won't help her with another important issue at hand.

For she had no idea who the person was, she remained attentive.

Drawing inches closer, his thuds knocked heavy on the ground with his heavy boots and greaves; coming close, he flicked away his cape, and lowered to bended knees, and checked her vital signs.

'What… Such cold hands—' Nathalie was all she ever pondered right off the bat yet stopped when she found out who he was with such familiarity. 'Keith's here!'

Inwardly, she heaved a deep sigh of relief, knowing that nothing changed and he was on her side regardless of what happened. 

In times of darkness, he was the solace she needed.

From her forehead and neck, she was beyond fine. Not a drop of sweat even trickled down her face and across her body albeit the slight discomfort found on her face.

"My Lady?"

Then, her fingers twitched once more, which he then rummaged through his pouch, grabbing the phone to a single press with a beep.

'Hmm? So, it was a successful plan then? Who is he calling?'

"She's awake… Certainly, I shall hang up now," he uttered low and breathless, but it wasn't hard to hear with such silence lingering in the room. "My Lady is still burning up."

After which, Keith dropped his hand and kept it while she expected something more.

'Huh? That was it? Who he was calling?'

Meanwhile, he went close to the nightstand, a basin with spring water found in it and a spare towel, wringing it before placing it over her head.

A little scrunch came from between her eyes from the sharp coldness but loosened up afterward.

Undoubtedly, the cooling sensation seeped through the layers of her skin, possibly reaching her skull, and it made her less agitated.

Such a feeling loomed within her that she could muster the remaining strength to open her heavy eyelids.

When her tensed muscles loosened, the corner of his lips quirked up to a warm smile.

"You've done well, My Lady..."

Soon as Keith pulled away, standing near the edge of the bed and looking after her, the door several feet away from them banged to an ajar.

"Is she well?!" Both Arnold and Athan went outburst in unison as they barged in, breaking out of sweat as their chests heaved up and down with their stark, gallant tunic and open-breasted robe.

'Those voices… What is good hell— Where am I even?' Even with eyes closed, she rolled her eyes the moment their voices went adrift to her ears.

Her father stomped towards the bed, sitting by the edge of it, and caressed her hand.

Not that Nathalie was foreign of the callused palms of his, but a part of her didn't want to respond after thinking about the recent events that sunk in her mind.

With it unrestrained, she scrunched her forehead with a slight moan escaping her lips.

All of them went close, reacted so much while looking at each other.

"Heavens be damned, she might still be in the Fever Dreams... " Arnold blurted out.

Arnold responded, "I beg to differ, it might be a nightmare nevertheless…"

"Not a good one either."

'My goodness, they aren't helping at all!'

She moaned again; right now, she tried to squirm and rustled against the sheets. They all went into a panic, Keith and Athan pacing back and forth while Arnold turned petrified, gripping her fingertips.

Nathalie, with her utmost best, opened her eyes halfway, mumbling, "It hurts— Let go, father..."

"I'm sorry!" He held his hand up high.

Her gaze turned soft and sluggish, as she looked around; it wasn't the place she was rather strange to her. 

It didn't even help that the place, including them, shifted and distorted a little bit, swaying to and fro.

"W— Where am I?"

However, Athan and Arnold looked at each other, which the latter nodded, and the former reached to her tender hands with a rub.

"This is Braewood Keep…"

Such a name rang inside her head; giving it time to think, she parted her lips with her gaze slightly widened as she linked it to an important person as well.

'Wait—! Wait a moment… Isn't that the castle of the Grand Duke of Salvatore, Sylvester?!'

"Your face says it all.." Athan nodded, then uttered again. "This is Matthew's home…"