Beating drums and muffled cheers were heard, which Nathalie scrunched her face as she squirmed on the floor

    Slight numbness in her legs, back, and wrist became worse, even for a small nudge.

    Nathalie was in such a solitary life in the small room she was in— wrinkling lines and cracks found on the wooden not only the circular walls but also the floor, seeping up some few rays of light from it.

    The dust already smothered every piece of furniture around her and few objects stacked therein, except her.

    She tried to open her eyes, though it didn''t help as her vision was rather blurry. Scrunching her face a couple of times, she slowly assessed around her.

    A sudden recollection of her memories came when she gasped how she ended up here.

    The group of elves and werewolves in one area, in such harmony, was an impressive feat for her.

    Sure enough, Athan was the mastermind.

    Nathalie knew Mystique did such a thing, not only to the person but also to affect the whole community.

    Even so, she couldn''t help but think of one person that came to her mind.

    Not a good company, at least in her perspective.

    ''Charles!''

    The man she met a while ago was certainly the cousin of Sylvester and Marianne, about the same age as the Grand Duke of Salvatore, Sylvester.

    While Nathalie had no idea how she ended up meeting him, for she thought that a person like him would''ve gone to Sylvester''s aid. Although, she couldn''t disregard the deep-rooted anger he had for the likes of her.

    After all, in the story, Mystique confided with Charles''s uncle to revolt and usurp for the position as the Grand Duke of Salvatore but failed miserably, even after many alternative plans she did but Athan took them out, one by one.

    Eventually, the worst-case scenario was prevented, and Charles''s family was safe from the chopping block, despite their loyalty towards Sylvester.

    When it happened, all the more their devotion amplified, almost close to worshipping. Spearheaded by Charles, with the immense support they got, the Western Territory developed rapidly, even scaring off the Dysnomia Emperor.

    On the flip side, this enraged them towards the Blackwell Household.

    With Athan''s help, Sylvester and Charles became sworn brothers for a lifetime.

    ''Athan had already gathered so many allies and other people on his side.''

    But it wasn''t the same for her.

    Even if she didn''t do it directly, now that she had to live with this beguiling body, she had to endure and come to terms that she had to pay a price in one way or another.

    The agitation that lingered on victims like him, surely won''t subside.

    Nathalie only gave Sylvester the time he needed to contemplate, even after she apologized on Mystique''s behalf.

    Those wounds won''t heal right away.

    She understood that; even if it sucked on her part.

    Because she''s now the villainess.

    Moreover, she wasn''t surprised by what shenanigans Veronica had done at the crucial moment; which also led to a great argument between her and Athan.

    Though it wasn''t her business to dwell with, as she got the gist.

    Somehow, violence begets more violence still had an effect— for the sake of revenge.

    Now that she was in this predicament, Nathalie was now the pitiful person to receive this kind of punishment, albeit she wouldn''t even woe for herself as she didn''t have the privilege to be in any of those.

    There had to be something more with an apology, and not accepting hers wasn''t uncalled for— time would come if they were more than willing to open up their heart once more and look forward to the new Mystique.

    Meanwhile, she tried to be on terms with them as never seeing each other would be improbable for some time.

    Nathalie didn''t want to be around them either way, at least for her peace of mind.

    ''I still remember her words, we still have roles to play in this world, huh?''

    After pondering, Nathalie got so frustrated with Mystique as she turned out worse than she ever was— ambitious and ungrateful at that— even after believing and supporting her throughout the series, this was the kind of behavior she had to put up with...

    Moreover, blaming her for the life she had, in which she had no control since.

    While Arnold, Keith, and Athan understood how much Nathalie had a special place in her heart, it was a different case to the rest.

    Nathalie spoke for her case, from even prior to transmigration; they were also able to open their minds and be in her shoes, but it was hard to say with the rest of the people who never knew her identity in the first place.

    ''While I''m confident that Charles knows Mystique at this point, I still don''t know what he''s up to…'' she trailed off her thoughts as she looked around even better.

    It was some sort of a storage area, a good place to store for a mere ''hostage'' like her.

    Though, as she looked around, there found heat signals forming a humane silhouette— perhaps the guards and familiars outside.

    The worst part was, everything apart from her outfit and necklace was confiscated from her.

    She noticed the sudden straps tied on her ankles and feet. Though it took her a while, moaning inaudibly, she didn''t hesitate to test its bindings.

    Enhanced with magic powers at that, with the runes that bright up every time she tried to break free from it.

    ''It might take time to disenchant this—''

    To her surprise, she noticed the heat signal from a certain direction, upfront, flickered, and got closer and more vibrant.

    ''Huh? This… This isn''t good…''

    With the man standing in front of the door, she furrowed her eyebrows into one deep line when she realized how familiar he was then.

    She hung her head low, squatting still while eyes shut like she was nowhere near awake then.

    Opening the door, his lean and large figure eclipsed the afternoon brilliance in the distance, but his glaring orange eyes never dwindled, looking down on her right off the bat.

    The thud on his boots bore heavy and slow, enough to skip her heart a beat.

    About an inch away from her, he stood, and he hadn''t spoken since.

    ''What is Charles about to do—?''

    Just when she thought about it, her head smothered the water, drenching her nevertheless.