Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

The bed-chamber was rather dim, and only through the arched window, the moon's radiance amongst the bright starry sky cast a silver glow onto the bed and frozen carpet.

From the bed, Keith sat upright. He rubbed his eyes before stretching his neck from side to side with a grunt.

The layers of the warm quilt that covered from his hips down had left his bare and toned torso bathed upon the glistening light. A portion of his face also shared the same grace, and his innocent countenance almost made her heart skip a beat.

A stark silhouette and the precise cut from the shadow made it a piece of art from the night's graces. 

Unbeknownst to her, he turned to the side as he noticed her presence, which had him flinch in subtlety but became a little meek in front of her.

"Your Grace?" Keith called, but she was too stunned to respond. Though, when he started to rustle under the sheets, it snapped Nathalie out of her trance, flicking her hand away.

[Oh, you should rest for a moment there.]

"W—Where am I—?" A subtle groan came out of his lips, kneading his forehead from the sudden onset of nausea he got.

She jammed her hands into the pouch in a snap and took out another tonic she had.

Nathalie went close to him in a jiffy, whispering, "Here, take this." 

Meanwhile, Keith peeked sideways and never hesitated to grab it for him to drink.

She watched after him, gulp after gulp, and it didn't fail to surprise her: the defined jawline and Adam's apple of the man afore her were tempting.

Self-preservation and dignity were crucial at the moment.

Taking the last gulp, he pulled it away. "So refreshing—" Although his eyes gape from what he drank. "Wait a—This—"

[Rest assured as you need it.] Nathalie flashed a smile to the point her eyes imitated her lips.

As he was a patient, it was her responsibility to take care of him and not worry about such things afterward.

Her heart, however, had a sudden pang when his ears drooped with his head went low as well.

'This won't do.'

Nathalie cleared her throat. [Must I remind you, Keith? This is an order.]

From then on, he blinked and had a curt nod.

[Good. Now, are you all better?]

"My Lady, a single bottle of this magical tonic you had would even be worth several thousand golds. How impertinent of me to drink such an exclusive luxury."

His compliments made her giggle.

[You think so?]

"Without a doubt!"

Eyes of Keith went into shimmers, like a kid rejoicing from good praises. Withal, she patted his head a couple of times.

[Alright, alright. I believe you. Do you think you can move with ease now?]

"That would not be much of a problem." He took a stretch of his arms and rolled his shoulders. A series of cracks made from his knuckles and neck came once more. 

But his forehead furrowed to a couple of creases when he noticed his breathing had a frosty mist in it. He caught a glimpse of snowflakes that spread across the edge of the bed, which threw his face into confusion.

A gleam in his eyes, scanning the place, got him astounded.

[You did it if you don't remember.]

His jaw dropped, and before he could utter, her palm shut him up, writing. [Everything has been taken care of; no need to feel bad about this. Alright?]

He could only gaze at her for a few seconds, then nodded right away. She then let go of him afterward.

[Good. Get ready.] Simultaneously, she pulled out his attire.

"I'm always amazed at this, My Lady."

For it struck an ego on her part, she flipped her hair to the side, scoffing, [Of course, I don't get ready. I stay ready.] Right after handing it to him, she turned around for him to take the time to put it on him.

After donning the white inner long sleeves and trousers, the silver velvet waistcoat now buttoned completely with the ascot necktie given to him. In the middle of him dressing up, he asked, "Pardon me for a sudden query, but where are we?"

[In Grand Duchy of Forsberg—] Glancing sideways didn't help, as he couldn't see her gesture, but he got stunned nonetheless.

Keith shuddered when it registered on his head.

"How did we end—Well—I don't remember—at all—Only right after I left to... The streets I—" 

In which she ought to continue and cut him off. [I understand. I got it all covered; we're meeting them soon. Get ready whenever you are.]

She knew it had to do with the nasty twins.

"We shall take our leave, My Lady."

Snapping her fingertips, the path went to a thaw and gushed out a thin mist that lingered on their feet.

A light clink on the door, and it went ajar with the blinding brilliance of the ceiling lights flashed upon them. 

The act was on.

Nathalie slinked her arm to his with firmness and sauntered their way out of the dark chamber.

Within the hallway, a plastered array of paintings, of different styles and aesthetics, worth a showcase, and beneath it found a brief description.

Everything had one thing in common: a very rich history of the Grand Duchy of Forsberg.

It never failed to mesmerize her; such lore came to life that wasn't part of her story.

Yet there was one person she could trust, and that was the Grand Duke himself, who happened to be Jonathan.

Knowing a history would also be a boon to her plans.

Soon as they got close to the guest hall, more and more footmen and maids stopped their tracks and went wary about her. 

Even their gossip didn't slip by, but she paid no mind to them, even to the point of tapping Keith's tensed arm from their impertinence.

Reaching the guest hall, from the large central lounge of couches with fur-carpeted floors, there stood Jonathan, who ordered the servants non-stop; even Dusk and Dawn helped him from his ordeals.

It was a storm and utter workload on all of them that Nathalie and Keith went unnoticed.

Only when things began to settle down had Jonathan noticed both of them with a wide grin.

"Oh, perhaps I've made my guests ran out of patience."