Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

'The Braewood Keep?'

Nathalie ended up looking around, trying to assess the environment she was in, and they weren't even lying to her.

Her voice was rather dry and hoarse but she still pushed through.

"Father, we— can't stay here..."

However, Arnold clasped her hand as he smiled as though he understood the paling visage that struck her. 

"Rest assured; Sylvester and I had buried the hatchet."

Nathalie blinked her eyes like she didn't believe not a single word coming out of his mouth.

However, Athan beckoned her attention. "That's true. But I'd say, it's the start."

While Sylvester understood what happened to Marianne under Mystique's care, he hadn't gotten a word from him, let alone a proper conversation to clear things in the way. 

Although, Nathalie understood; it wasn't an easy part for her. In retrospect, she also dirtied her hands as it aligned her objectives.

While it wasn't her place to apologize or the like, she wondered that when the time would come things would get better for both of them. 

But it wasn't what Nathalie got concerned about the most. Her eyes contested Arnold's and it got intense with every clock ticked.

Never did she think that she would be here, in Braewood Keep, even more so welcoming to the likes of her and Arnold. With quite a long history between the two families, it was no doubt that she should remain vigilant.

Even after all that happened.

"I shall deal with it myself, alright?" His hand now patted her head.

While it was certainly good news, what the Dysnomia Empire now was to settle the differences and work for hand in hand.

The future was a little brighter, to say the least.

Keith grabbed the towel and soaked it back to the basin.

Still, she sat upright and the arboreal breeze brushed past her face, and it was the freshest air she had ever breathed. Somehow, it calmed her heart down and allowed her to think well despite getting all thrown into confusion from what happened.

Roaming her gaze, from Athan, Arnold, and to Keith, she pondered again how they were somehow fine and all.

"W— What about— Jonathan? Where…" she trailed off her voice to a whisper, overlooking the opened door, waiting if he hid or some sort. "Where is he?"

They all looked at one another, and not one of their faces bore a grimace.

"He went back to Elverstone Stronghold. Some issues arose that he needed to address and deliberate a few of his objectives." Arnold then hummed while rubbing the underside of his stumbled chin. "He also mentioned the plans you've asked of him and are now on the right track."

Nathalie ended up nodding slowly while she leered at the bedsheet covering her lower half. After which, she leaned against the headboard when her body had yet to recover.

When Keith noticed, he went close and helped her get a comfortable position.

"Are you still hurting?" he mused.

"I'm feeling— much better—" Then, she glanced at Athan, asking, "May I ask— where's Sylvester, Your Highness?"

"Apparently, he's busy, and I gave him my work for a while when you called that you're awake. Good thing Veronica and the rest were there to help him, even if it was for a while."

Nathalie remembered how the enemies of foreign countries invaded and with the help of Ashtra, she froze them in an eternal block of ice. Now, about half of them have been transported to the outskirts of the Imperial Capital and locked there as per the decree of the emperor.

But that also opened up her vulnerability, and the curse amplified, of which she had no idea that was akin to Fever Dreams.

So much had happened, she gulped hard and her eyes went into scrutiny.

"Is… There anybody else— who knows about me?"

"No," they answered in unison.

"... W— Why not?"

"You're still my daughter, Mysti, and it's no one's business what went on through your life."

"Certainly, no one owes you an explanation. Your intentions and how you take matters at hand spoke volumes." Athan beamed a warm smile like he got prouder of her than ever.

For the villainess, there was already so much hate and misery for as long as she lived; while it was a mere book, the hate went on, spreading such toxicity on the fanbase. 

Nathalie didn't want that. The whole time, she pondered how she might be able to justify and at least someone put oneself in Mystiques' shoes— things weren't as bad as what everyone thought.

But Mystique's words back then struck her head like in a loop. 

Shaking her head a little, she huffed a loud sigh.

A huge burden lifted off her chest when she realized that her identity wasn't compromised, and lived the way she had been since. 

The secret she tried so hard to keep away from them, now eventually came to light. Readying herself what awaited her, she didn't expect that they would keep their word not to speak anything about it.

These were the characters whom she had an idea who they were prior to her transmigration, and even more so getting to have this kind of interaction she never thought she would have for the rest of her life.

Their genuine horror and surprise from what she had in her sleeve were still fresh on her mind. 

Right now, their countenance held not an ounce of rage and grudge; if there was such a change, then what popped in her mind was for the better.

'I'm not exactly sure how I should behave myself from now on…'

To think they treated her as is, never had she been so grateful than she ever was, and keeping up the act was beyond chores for him.

What surprised her the most was Arnold, knowing it all along— for as long as the miracle came. Nathalie wanted to believe it was because of her breaking out of an act but it was his gut instinct telling him, like what a father knew best.

Even if it was temporary, the second time she returned to her world was also beyond gratifying; never knew how much longer she had to stay, she made the most out of it.

A flutter came into her heart, making her body tremble ever-so-slightly.

So many things have happened, both physically and mentally drained, that she closed her eyes when tears started to trickle down her flushed cheeks. 

The three of them went into panic, comforting her but she couldn't hear their voices when she now buried her face with the quilt, muffling her cries.