(A/N: I'm sorry for the lack of updates! I basically found out I had a brain cyst earlier this year that's thankfully not cancerous but I was to receive treatment since it's likely to get bigger. The great news is that I was the next chapter or two already written to that will be scheduled to come later this week or next week. To close I hope you enjoy this chapter and if you like my writing, feel free to buy me a coffee!)

“That is my life’s purpose, Sir Descoteaux.” Noir replies, knowing full well he was scoping her out. It made her extremely nervous. She was already seen as an unknown threat due to her background, even with the backing of the royal family.

“Although it’s not uncommon, I am surprised to learn you don’t have any magical abilities.” Oh yes, in the world of Chaleur, magic existed. Some people are born with the ability, some aren’t. Those who are, are said to be blessed as children of the gods. Those who were blessed with light magic were said to be children of Goddess Lumière, and dark magic users were called children of God Nuit.

More minor elements, such as water, fire, wind were blessings from lower gods.

Being born with the ability to wield dark and light magic is quite uncommon--however, dark magic, paired with its rare existence, it's history is filled with tragic events. The few people in history who wielded it in the past became hungry with the powers they'd been blessed with and died under mysterious circumstances. Noir could only guess that the dark God had been ashamed with who he decided to bestow his powers to. 

Magic users were a minority yet essential to society. Many worked as assassins or for churches as priests--and rare times, as weapons in battle.

In the novel, the female protagonist was said to be blessed with such an immense amount of light magic that she was said to be the Saintess--a person who hadn’t appeared for hundreds of years. She grew up in the Church of Lumière, possessed kindness and nature that was that of a holy maiden.

Unlike her, Noir wasn’t that fortunate.

Of course as an individual not from this world, Noir didn’t have the ability to use magic like the female lead or the love interests. It was one of the reasons she was dedicating so much to improving her physical ability.

Noir was an outsider in this world--she established her own role within it and she wanted to get her place; hell, she was desperate at times.

She frowned.

‘Bad thoughts, go away, go away.’ No used to be deterred, even with her strange circumstances.

It had indeed the same as her circumstances in her previous world. A foreigner in a monolith of people. Feeling you don’t belong, no matter how much you try to assimilate.

“Big brother?” Her attention goes back to Hiliarie, who looks at her with gentle, child-like worry. Her tense expression melted as she lowered her eyes one the boy in her arms. Right, the child that she was so focused on changing and caring for...maybe that was the purpose of her rebirth, for this child who had no family, like her.

This child, he wasn’t the adult man he was in the novel--he was simply a child who deserved love and protection.

Something she’d give him.

Like the Saintess Madeline was to his previous tyrannical self him, he was her light.

“Yes, Your Highness?” She gave him a weary smile, gently tucking a strand of hair behind the boy’s ear.

“Are you okay? Is that man making you sad? Uncle said a man who can’t accept defeat isn’t a real man at all!” The ten-year-old puffs out his chest and frowns at the two knights. Staring the boy with wide eyes, she became filled with laughter, her dark eyes shining with merriment.

“I’m fine, Your Highness.”

“Are you sure Big Brother?” The prince looks at the two men, giving them a pouting scowl when Noir’s back is turned.

The father and son duo stiffen.

“Of course I am."

Smiling, the boy turns to her and gives her a tight hug.

“Ah, Sir Yoan, Sir Jacquees--His Highness and I have to return. May the goddess find you well.” She turns to the two men who’d been mere spectators, bowing slightly before making her way back to the castle with the Prince in tow.

“Children are a bit terrifying.”

“That, I agree with Father. Also, that boy, something is strange about him, Father.” Jacques said with a sense of bewilderment, not sure why a child just coming into adulthood could land a hit on him. He was a trained knight who was ranked second from his father in terms of strength within their faction and yet he lost to a child with a month or two’s worth of training.

“I agree with you, Son. Strong, cunning. If he wasn’t His Highness’s bodyguard, I’d recommend him to fight for the royal army. Aside from that,” Yoan turns to his son, with a smile that makes a young knight turn into stone on sight.

“It seems that you need more training!”

Far off the distance, Noir hears a strangled scream off in the distance. She spent the rest of the afternoon sitting outdoors with Hillarie, having a picnic for their lunch that consisted of various meats, cheeses, and pieces of bread.

“Big Brother,”

“Hmmm?”

The boy smiles, grinning as the sun begins to set.

“Having you here reminds me of when I used to eat with my mother,” The boy’s grin softened, his eyes became half-lidded.

“Your hugs feel like Mother’s too...”

Noir reached over and held the child in her arms as his breath began to slow. Soon after, the boy fell into a warm slumber.

His mother, a dancer named Anastasie. Not much was said about her, but she was described as a free-spirited woman, who happened to fall in love with a man she shouldn't have.

She loved her son, and even in her last moments, before she died, called her son’s name.

Reading it as an adult made her cry, a lot.

Furrowed her brows, she places importance to the child in front of her.

He was due to have his magic ability measured--hell, it was all overdue. Typically children were tested at the age of six,  however, in reaction to the neglect he had suffered, he'd missed being tested, as well having his magic awakened.

In the novel, he had no magic ability. This, paired with his parentage and how their society viewed a bastard, the illegitimate king led to his cold and tyrannical nature built from insecurities and things he could not control. His mother was a devout follower of the god Nuit--a belief that instilled in her son a lot. Even during his years, as a tyrant, he’d pray to the god, despite his lover being the Saintess of Light.

She didn’t want him to feel alone, to be bullied by snobbish nobles. To feel that he was powerless.

Regardless of the result, she’d continue with her plans on raising him to be an upright man.

Looking at the child sleeping in her arms, tired out from lessons, and playing among the flowers, she made a silent vow before taking him to Adela to prepare for bedtime.