Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

'This can't be!' Nathalie squinted, biting her lower lip. 'Though didn't Jonathan said I resembled Mystique as well?'

From the protruding hilt and scabbard from the side as he donned the black cape, pinned with the Blackwell insignia, and his grey coat and trousers adorned with gold linings and high-quality fabric.

'But wait... That white hair and stark green eyes…'

Nathalie's indigo eyes gleamed, which caused them all to flinch and dropped to their knees.

'Keith Alexander Dewlake…'

However, it was only him that didn't cower afore her.

'This man… Why do I feel like I almost know him on a spiritual level? What is this feeling?'

His stark yet voluminous fringes that swept his front and side, covering his profile, a low ponytail, and feline ears that resembled a white tiger to boot was one of the physical traits she bestowed upon him.

The very ears perked up when her attention was on him, then it quivered slightly when he averted his gaze.

Nathalie squinted her eyes of what she could expect. 'Being meek all of a sudden? Where is that brave and valiant commander that I saw earlier?' Then her gaze darted at his tail that swayed to and fro.

Before she could move and assess the outline of his attire, perhaps further delving into her fantasy, she inwardly shirked from the situation.

'Nathalie! Get a grip!'

Nathalie sighed, which startled everyone in the chamber.

[Who told you all to barge inside my chamber?]

It seemed like it got them petrified, unable to scurry away from her. Which she facepalmed; she had no choice but to do such actions before clearing out evidence.

[No one shall dare move their positions!] Nathalie called them out.

Her final word had them grovel on the floor, slamming their foreheads on the floor and daring not to look at her eyes.

Inwardly, she was relieved that the pile of sheets sprawled on the bed was just behind her, leaving them no idea what they were. She started to act and returned the items back to her bag.

Now, their positions turned rigid and frozen. She went on and hid them all behind her cozy pillows. Dusting off the crumples on her dress, she clapped her hands as a cue.

[Please return to your posts.] To Nathalie's surprise, they relaxed their posture and slowly stood; they couldn't hide the genuine smiles that forced their way out of their lips. [I don't want such commotion in this instance.]

Even Nathalie understood as she knew exactly what happened to their only lady of Blackwell.

[Keith and Iris shall remain here; the rest of you shall return.]

They all thanked and praised her leniency in unison, gesturing a deep bow before they scurried out of the room. On the other hand, the two of them remained from their positions.

From her cues, they stood in a submissive manner and awaited her further commands.

[Iris, aren't you one of my ladies-in-waiting?]

"Y—Yes, Your Grace…"

[Very well, then.] She started to strut towards the vanity. [I believe you have the skills to do something as simple as this, yes?] muttering as she gave a little tug of the strands of her hair.

Iris spoke inaudibly, but her eager nods convinced Nathalie otherwise.

[Come here.] Nathalie took a seat. From the mirror, she stole a glance of Keith, who averted his gaze, but he seemed pretty disturbed. [Keith…]

"Yes, Your Grace." He jolted upright with a gesture of respect to her.

It was just a few words spoken, but she couldn't help but admire the deep, suave voice he had. In her now thawed heart, she couldn't help but stan from what she described.

'Hmm, at this point, Mystique reached the lowest point in her life. Instead of recuperating, she got into almost a deep slumber for eternity.' Nathalie squinted her eyes when she thought who was the main culprit of her demise.

But Nathalie's actions caused misunderstanding towards Keith.

[Nevermind. My mind is hazy. You won't fail me to recapitulate the events while I was away, yes?]

Keith took a curt nod, gulping before he started to mutter what he seemed Mystique Blackwell wanted to know. Nathalie was in all ears.

Meanwhile, he began with how the Grand Duchy of Blackwell, Grand Duke Arnold Heinrich Blackwell, was away for more than a week ever since her only daughter, Mystique Blackwell, went bedridden from an unforeseeable disease. All for his daughter, he went through great lengths to personally seek the Emperor of the Dysnomia Empire and ask for help.

It was sole aid from the Imperial doctors and physicians.

'Now this part seems to be the snippet of a prologue from the sequel, The Prince's Ascension.'

[Any other news?]

"So far, the vassals under His Grand Ducal Highness went through careful supervision, making sure they shall accomplish the objectives for this winter season. Other than that, none, Your Grace."

Nathalie made a steeple in her fingers.

'So it's not yet too late.'

From the news that Keith delivered, it wasn't at the brink of collapse, the worst-case scenario. But this didn't give her a complacent stance or peace of mind.

From the given timeline and the status quo, they were also bound to have disadvantages and advantages right from the start. But she would know the ins and outs of them as long as she recapitulated from the first book's aftermath, The Prince's Retribution.

Nathalie took a closer look at Mystique's body. One might say she was healthy, probably borderline malnourished; everyone would take a couple of glances to see through her.

Her slender fingers caressed against her face down to her defined jawline, looking left and right, as she shot a glare in front of a mirror.

[Iris, do you think I'm that pale?]

"You're paler than the delightful ever-snow the Grand Dukedom of Blackwell could ever give, a skin that embraces for an eternity of icy bliss, Your Grace."

Nathalie's indigo eyes glinted from her choice of words; her evil smirks shuddered Iris for a while but then blinked as soon as she realized she got caught up with it; indeed, it fluttered her heart to hear such compliments. But then, somewhere part, hidden deep within her heart, crawled to her senses to snap out of it.

'This is getting weirder, and I'm almost integrating like Mystique—! Cut me off some slack! I don't want to die a cruel death too!'

A series of knocks erupted on the door, which broke off her train of thoughts.

'I can't jump to conclusions. I need to plan.'