Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

'What is this music?' Keith wondered as he listened to it for the first time; the more he focused through hearing, the complicated it got.

His ears twitched from the music he hadn't heard before, its beating and tempo was rather fast and almost overwhelmed with the kind of instruments blasted from its melody. Though it was splendor, in a way, every note soothed his heart—a symphony that evoked certain emotions in him in ways words couldn't describe at the moment.

Though it wasn't the only concern when one beautiful voice mused through the song came out of the blue, harmonizing the previous.

Three voices…

Four…

'Five? What's going on over there?' 

"It's an ancient language…"

Turning to Athan's direction, Keith snapped out of a trance as the words rang a bell. 

He leaned again, and as much as he learned the rich history and culture of the empire ever since he was under her wing, there found no information nor an in-depth study of what it was. Although Mystique had introduced it ever-so-briefly, the very foundation of the universe, she also had limited information.

Most probably, the information was beyond confidential, and it was only accessible among the imperial family. With Athan's face almost bereft with life, dazing off as he continued to listen, perhaps he had an idea that was rather unimaginable than fascinated from what was beyond the doors.

'I don't think this was the music that they had practiced, so why is this—'

But then, the music stopped so abruptly that it vanished in a snap.

When he caught the sharp clacks from the strut approaching behind the closed doors, both of them stood upright.

With a door squeaked so shortly from opening it wide and quick, there found Mystique, in a flared amethyst floral-printed maxi dress, crossing her lavender gloved arms.

[Perhaps, I have gotten a lot lenient these days, quite warranting for the people around me to abuse my kindness.]

Athan coughed aloud as he struck his chest from her choice of words. "That's not my intention, Violette. I simply came to drop a visit."

Mystique's eyes gleamed—and the kind of brightness that would kill a person, flinching Keith from the side.

[How scandalous! A visitation, is it?] She pressed her chest with a dramatic groan. [Coming in someone's room when you have—]

However, he grabbed his wrist and stopped for what she was about to write afterward. "You don't have to go that far…" Withal, he squinted his eyes from what she implied. 

But then, she shook her hand—an attempt upon breaking free from his clutches.

[Then, why didn't you knock and say so?]

"I thought I shouldn't disturb you."

[Well, shoo! Out of my sight!] While she let out a gesture in her hands, flicking away; although, Athan remained unbothered. Then, she snapped in Keith's direction. [You didn't even knock.]

'I did try…'

Though he didn't want to rebut as he gulped from justifying how sour her reaction got.

"...My deepest apologies." 

[That I accept.] Mystique then turned around. [Come in—not you.] Pointing to Athan without looking back.

His crimson eyes glinted at Keith, almost like a glare.

But he didn't do so like he was holding back for her sake, and his actions caused him to think twice as he was more stubborn than her.

'No, no, no. I must've gone blind. There's no reason His Highness would've acted in such a way.' Shaking his head inwardly before shuffling inside her bed-chamber. 

At the moment, Mystique gestured for Keith to close the doors, and as it creaked, he caught the glimpse—as much as he'd like to hope he was wrong, his glances had a tinge of hatred, possibly close to jealousy, in which he shuddered from within.

"I'll be waiting for you outside, Violette." 

After a loud thud, coming to a shut, she let out a groan, and strut her way towards the wardrobe. 

Foremost, Keith was beyond elated to see how she got a tad distant from Athan—back then, chasing him resulted in her pain and hatred for everyone around her. While he did think that such change was a good thing, it only came into his mind how scary it could be once a person adapted onwards—for better or for worse.

'I'll keep my curiosity for now.'

Right now, he had to focus on building up the trust and communication they had from one another that he ruined easily from his false speculation. He needed to redeem himself from the plight. 

[Did you bring me the ingredients?]

"Yes, I have…" 

From rummaging in his dimensional storage, he splurged out as much as he could on the nearby table. Filling the table with different herbs, stocks, and consumables she needed, while the heavier ones were on the floor—in sacks and bags piled one another.

[Are these all that you've gathered?] she mused, in which he nodded thereafter. [Very well.]

Then, she took them in one single move—through her pouch, swallowing everything in one move.

[How are the preparations for their training?]

"Lady Marianne and Lady Veronica are doing well, and able to keep up with themselves, but…" he trailed off his voice as he couldn't help but glance sideways. Through the windows, he peered downwards, and it was the two elven ladies, who were at the open patio.

[What about those two?]

"They performed not as well as I thought they would. Even if you were already harsh on them."

Shortly, a little quirk upon her lips got seen before it vanished. [What do you think they're doing?]

Even if they sat at one of the wooden benches, their mouths opened, moving for quite some time now.

"I suppose it's some of the tasks you had to do for an opera."

Mystique blinked at him. [Opera? That sounds fabulous…]

So far, what he had noticed was no different from an opera, and he had visited the amphitheaters with her for as long as he could remember. While he did know that Mystique had such interest in this kind of artful performance, it was still mind-boggling how it correlated to the ambitious objective, led by the Crown Prince himself.

"Is it not, My Lady?"

For a while, she hummed, and winked at him, suggesting something else.

"Close, but not quite. You'll see about it soon."