Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

"Look at you, the once little girl of mine grew to a fine lady that I hold dear."

Lawrence's eyes gleamed rich crimson hue with a little bit of a lopsided smile for everyone to anticipate. Sitting on the throne so comfortably while everyone had lost their will to even nudge in their steads.

Near them, Sylvester stood but had an apprehensive look. 

Meanwhile, Jonathan squinted his eyes at her with arms crossed, standing from the far right with the twins.

A crease formed on Nathalie's forehead as she stared at Lawrence, who spoke such words in front of them all.

Even in front of her father, Arnold.

'What is he up to?' 

Not even throughout the lifetime of Mystique, as far as Nathalie recalled the memories, ever heard such endearing remarks from him, more so among the crowds.

So far, only Athan reached that level of intimacy, so to speak, regarding the Emperor; albeit in a private meeting. He was free to call Lawrence as the father, but never in this public setting.

'I smell a stunt…'

At this point, he was more than willing to declare his side, showing his good graces to the rest of the nobles, be allies, or of the opposite faction.

But then, as an author, she remembered that a drastic change came to Athan's favor after he was able to accomplish this milestone objective: Taming the Frost Wyrm.

Which brings it to her mind, that course of events changed; and then, she scoured a little bit around her, grasping their reactions—shocked, flabbergasted, and disbelief— especially for someone like her.

However, Athan was somehow unperturbed with what Lawrence had been up to, as though he knew something was up.

But her thoughts cut off immediately when the Emperor spoke once again, "For you to seek help to my promising son, Athan, I admire your courage, and even settling differences." 

All of a sudden, he grinned that brimmed with pride and mockery at the same time.

Perhaps she spoke too soon.

The lids on her eyes twitched from his words, of who knew how he even came up with such a statement.

To the side, she peered at Athan, where she had a hard time understanding the expression of his visage. But she couldn't focus with the clamor occurring around her.

Withal, the once inaudible murmurs grew stronger, turning into blatant slander aimed at her.

"Oh does this mean she's riding the coattails of the Crown Prince?"

"So that's how it is! It's hard to believe she'd get to take all of the credit when it's not her work after all!"

"I can't believe it. I should've pried, and gave it a shot! I could've gotten such good graces."

The crowd joined in with the hate train after it seemed to clear the confusion in the first place, bringing their interpretation to the table.

'This isn't what we talked about—'

Somehow, their dissent was such a disservice and struck her deep; but if she reacted, then it might only dig her deeper into the grave. 

Never in her life has she felt so small in this case. Even if it wasn't the truth, with a couple of people who knew the truth.

Although, none of them stood up to her.

'W—What's the meaning of this—?!' Nathalie was about to move but got stuck from her position.

A discernible heat signature came, weighing down on her with control enough not to harm her ever-so-secretly.

The atmosphere shifted that wasn't in her favor as they went on full force with the slander, not even the sovereign reacted differently as he scoured the hall.

Yet, as it went on, Nathalie's eyes roamed at Athan, who almost had a bit of shock. Somehow, a glimmer of hope though that he might've got a comment, at least to clarify what Lawrence insinuated.

It took her a while to see that he got restrained, an invisible force that she noticed through the same heat signatures emitting from him.

Worse, the two people that were important to her also became too livid. The streaks of veins on Arnold and Keith went visible, yet they couldn't even do a thing.

They were no different getting pinned on the ground, forcing themselves to submit to his command. 

Nathalie's mind, in the meantime, moved like gears turning to find the root cause of it.

Only there, she noticed it was a combination of powers from the Emperor's vassals, who sat on their seats, of both sides, glaring at her.

'No, I have to calm down… There has to be a way—' 

After looking around, she caught the peculiarity of their lips, seemingly trembling as though they were forced to shut up for the time being.

A foreboding chill bloomed in her heart as she looked up to Lawrence's gaze, almost speaking to her what she thought was right. Then went to his vassals, in which they all thought alike.

Her mouth wasn't sealed after all.

To put up with them through talking, not only would serve them shock-value and entertainment, it would be a great burden to Nathalie's part.

'What bunch of shady characters….'

When she was about to open her mouth, Ashtra broke their yaps with a low rumble.

"This is precisely why I don't mingle with pesky pests."

Everyone got caught off guard, looking around for what it was then. Yet it didn't take long for them to find who it was when Ashtra, from his, curled up position slowly rose, levitating over her head like a halo.

'Ashtra, Don't… I'll let them have it—' Nathalie thought as to reassure him that things would be alright rather than turning him into a threat, making her an enemy as well.

But he wasn't the one to listen.

"Fools!" Ashtra let out a roar, a frigid wave blasted the hall. Most thrashing them, leaving them in disarray, but they couldn't move as their limbs went all frozen solid onto the frosty ground. "After all the effort this woman had gone through, these mere pests dared to—I suppose you're seeking death wish."

Aside from Lawrence, who only had smears of ice on his skin, his confidants suffered so much enough to cough a mouthful of blood as they lurched from their seats.

With this, the sudden restriction befell upon them got lifted, but Ashtra was ready to push through his wrath.

'Oh no! This won't be good!'