Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

In the study, Athan sat across from Mystique at the nearby lounge. A lot of things have gone through his mind just from staring at her demeanor—casually sitting on the couch, in cross legs, while sipping in a cold glass of honey lemon tea.

'Still hides her emotions well.'

It's been a while, and she remained calm, perhaps even better than ever.

Athan couldn't help but quirk his lips, just a tad bit, to a smile. He cracked his neck from side to side before he gestured to Mystique with his hand.

"Ladies first."

Even with the glass just right on her lips, a sudden glint revealed the moment she opened her eyes.

[I never knew you had this chivalrous side of yours Ty—]

'...Ty?' Athan wondered.

Then she erased the words, turning into thin white mists.

"I suppose that wasn't a question, Violette, more so far from your queries." he cut her off from doodling in the air.

She placed the glass on the pinewood table and grabbed her grimoire to write without him interrupting whatever she wanted. After the last scribble from her pen, she grazed her fingertips and swiped across the page towards him.

The words flew in his direction with swiftness and stopped midair for him to read.

[What brings you here? Why aren't you with Veronica?]

Athan crossed his arms, playfully clicked his tongue in dismay. "Pick one question. You started this charade."

[Fine,] she sighed. [The first one.]

"News already spread after the retreat of His Grace's sudden retreat from the capital—after the stunt he pulled. I must admit, I got intrigued."

Mystique's lips twitched, enough to catch his attention before her eyes narrowed into scrutiny.

"Well…" Athan had a prim straight back, tugging his greatcoat lapels. How did you manage to look healthy when the last time I saw you were about to get blown away by a mere breeze?"

She just eyed sideways, writing—quick and easy—as he presumed, and sent his way only for him to read.

[It's a secret.]

"I was surprised to see you look…" His scrutiny became obvious, with the crimson orb that went up and down several times. "Healthier than the last time we've met."

Also, he wasn't so sure how she could maintain the vibrant, fair looking on her face. Like she wasn't sick at all.

But he still believed in his instinct, with his senses scouring over her vital signs in the distance.

"Care to tell me?"

[No. It's a lady's choice.]

He was about to open his mouth when she let out a cold breeze, pressing his lips—an acute pain swarmed him, making him hiss a little.

[My turn to ask; you're still as a hypocrite as ever, and I shan't let you off the hook—]

"As if you didn't earlier," he scoffed, but he cleared his throat when she remained indifferent with her glance at him. "Go ahead."

[Second question...]

He somewhat got caught off guard as he thought he could get away from it. All that he knew, Veronica had to return to the Marquisate of Silvermoon. The Grand Celebration had banquets and other gatherings that almost lasted for two weeks.

'Maybe lying wouldn't hurt,' he pondered.

He had his chin up, peering at her calm demeanor. "She had other things to do; we have our engagement after all—"

[You don't love her.]

It was like a hard lump stuck in his throat.

"What nonsense."

[I know you don't. I know you like the back of my hand.]

"I could say the same for you," he berated her out of mockery.

[... Nevermind, aren't you a fool for entering someone else's territory you consider an arch-enemy?]

Despite coming prepared, Athan thought for a while as he knew what he ought to do. But because of the uncertainty from Mystique's side, he had to act accordingly and probed a little if they were on the same page.

Athan leaned forward, hands clasping on his chin, and didn't avoid her eye contact.

"Have I?"

A slight crease formed on her eyebrows irritated from his quips—Athan knew, but he still wanted to do it his way.

But he never thought that she would fire back with the same probing.

[You don't think so?]

"I truly don't—"

[I knew you would lie this much.] Mystique had a smug while she grabbed her iced tea for a drink.

"...Don't you really not want to hear my side?"

[There's no need. For someone who has a polarized mindset against me irks me to the bone., why should I?]

'Need to calm down.' He knew he had to, or else he would lose all of the trouble he had to maintain his composure for several years.

"Even if what you do is wrong. It always makes me wonder if you…" Athan squinted, gesturing a tiny gap between his fingertips. "Have, at least, a bit of conscience?"

[Even until now, you try to gaslight and justify your actions. This is why I realized my feelings for you would be the death of me.] Mystique rolled her eyes, flipping her hair to the back.

'This woman—!'

Athan noticed his blood boil; heat seared his temples from her claims. He slammed his palms, but she never flinched at all.

Fangs protruded as his anger almost clouded his vision. He couldn't help but groan from the pent-up frustration.

"I must remind you that you're the one who has no sense of morality!"

His chest rose and fell quickly with every huff he took, and the heat in the room continued to rise without him knowing, in which it was too late to revert.

[That sounds fresh from someone who has quite immoral standards.]

The already humid room suddenly flushed with frigid air that burst around Mystique.

A sharp sound from the glass shattered, strong enough to pierce their ears, but they kept their facade.

Everything within the room glazed with snow, except for Athan, who had his body let out some steam.

In his heart, something tugged hard as he now realized Mystique was putting some resistance in a confrontational setting.

All that he knew she would retreat and take the words as it is head-on, but she would retaliate when people turn their backs at her.

His gut churned and sought something in her changed.

'Why am I hesitating?' His fist clenched harder than his jaw could ever be.

[I told you to take this one as if your life depends on it—]

'Maybe it's time…'

Perhaps, it might be better to come clean.

"I'm sorry."