The smell of dry, smoky air filled her nose and burned her senses. She came to in the middle of a grassy, green field--however, the smell of burning wood was still apparent in the air. Smoke clouded her lungs as she looked around, frantically.

Where was she? Why wasn't she dead?

She looked down at her body--what was up with body? She was six feet tall before and now her body was so much younger and smaller?

Amidst her confusion, she heard it. The muffled sound of a child crying in the distance of the roaring fire--one perishing in a fire. 

Such a terrible fate. Not even having the chance of having a long life. She didn't want that child to suffer the same fate she did. Her throat burned, her eyes shed hot, stinging tears. She ran. She ran as fast as her long, growing legs could take her--until she found an elegant home engulfed in flames.

The front seemed to be clear, but the outer rooms weren’t. The heart touches her body,  she struggled as she paced herself to find the source of the child's cries. Star felt herself stop at a small, narrow room the size of the closet. As she slowly made her way into the room, amongst the smoke and flames, she encountered a terrifying sight.

There was a child, no younger than the age of six, bound by ropes and gagged by a strip of cloth. When she frantically removes the first, the cloth stopping him from speaking, his voice appeared to raspy, and weak...most likely from screaming for help for so long. As hurriedly she removed the ropes that bound him, she saw bruises, everywhere--ranging spots of blue to purple to ultimately a yellowish-green.

Tears welled up in her eyes from the unknown, cradling him in her arms as she searched for a way out of the blazing home. Where she entered had been blocked by fallen wood set ablaze. She found herself kicking in a much weaker wall facing to the right of them in order to escape.

"Mother...please don't leave me,"

How could someone treat a child like this?

The woman thought while clutching the child in her arms,

If saving the child she held meant my demise, I'd surely die again.

....

....

"It seems that the Empress set the home on fire. If the former emperor saw how she treated his child, he'd have her head. Fleeing after the fact as well, no one seems to know where she ran off to."

"Could it be that she was jealous because of all her children ended up as miscarriages or stillborns? The King having that child before his marriage really wasn’t--" The woman’s conversation halted to silent, a gasp, and a gurgle followed. She didn’t dare open her eyes but continued to listen intently as a man began to speak. Feeling weary, she peeks at the situation at hand.

"Go on, speak." In her small field vision, there was a maid, gripping her face as blood spilled on the floor. She looked to be older, more of a worn madam. Her face paled, and she dropped to her knees with a harsh thud. In front of her was something that made bile rise in the girl’s throat.

And now, she wouldn’t be able to speak at all.

“Speaking ill of His Majesty? Don’t speak at all! You’re glad we didn’t have your head on top of a pike in fact! Take her to be imprisoned!”

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“Sir Monet!” She could see a maid cry out--she was desperate pleading with him; as the girl lied in bed, witnessing the scene, she felt sympathetic towards her.

“Cease! Do you want to end up executed as well?” Only with those words did she shrink down.

‘Sir Monet, huh?’

She realized then that she was there, in the world of  'Crown' A novel she had been fond of during the last few days she was alive. Set in a kingdom in the country of Chaleur, it sold the story of a king's rise and fall and the woman he loved to the point of destroying kingdoms for.

Sir Monet, a duke, and the previous King’s bodyguard. 

A man, that despite his best intentions ends up neglecting the prince after taking him in. Maybe it was due to his high resemblance to his father, he couldn’t stand to look at his face too often. He, along with other characters ended up being killed by Prince Hilarie before his marriage to his lover, the female protagonist.

Not having a son himself also contributed to his clumsy raising of Prince Hilarie. Instead of tending to the child, he more or less contributed to the isolation that led him to be selfish and cruel in the novel as well as leave room for the Heroine, who showered him with unknown affection.

Oh, she didn’t want to die. She didn’t know what exactly but she’d have to prevent it somehow.

For the sake of her life and the lives of the people in the kingdom. 

She wondered why the author wrote his life so unfortunate. Between the poisoning, the fire, and losing both his parents early, you’d think that the author had something against him. 

Regardless, he wasn’t a murderous king at the moment. He was just a sickly child.

“So you seem to be awake.”

The man from earlier has ben eyes trained on her. He has rich, vibrant ginger hair, buzzed short. His auburn eyes seemed to rack over her every feature and aspect.

Despite looking older, he had some sort of heroic attractiveness to him--although seeing him raise his sword to a woman, even if she spoke “out of turn” was a bit...

"Such a strong-looking boy...you have the potential to be a splendid knight."

He thought she was a boy...the same it was when she grew up in France.

She always was overtly masculine--well, she did spend nearly thirty-one years of life as a man. So, doing it now couldn’t be that much of a challenge. At the age she was now, she'd experience her first growth spurt. Thankfully, her chest was flat as well, so she didn’t have to worry about binding her chest yet.

Besides, what good would surviving as a woman do her? 

Being a woman during this time period was like signing a death wish. No access to education unless you were a noble with a home tutor, the expectations of being virtuous and obedient--destined to serve the men in your family wasn't something she was so keen on having her life be. At most if she found out to be a woman now, she'd be sold off and god knows what would happen to her after.

Furthermore, he seemed to have stared at her for a long time—however, she tried very hard to not show the fear she felt.

"I am fine. Is the child ok?"

"His Majesty is fine. The Prince has been sickly for quite some time, so he's in bed for the time being. Besides the point, you're not from this kingdom, are you? Tell me the truth, boy.” The man once again takes out his sword again, this time pointed at her.

“You could be one of that woman’s Minions! Go on speak before I cut your tongue as well!”

"I don’t remember anything. That’s my only memories at the moment.”

“Is that so...I wonder if you were educated.”

“...eh?”

“You’re very well-spoken for a commoner.”

“...” 

She felt nervous as he stared down at her once again.  As he looks at him and down, the former bodyguard finally put away his weapon. 

"That aside, you're very tall and well-built for your age. I have a proposal for you. I want you to work hard, so you can protect His Majesty. If you do that, I will take you as my son I will give you a family and protection in return." She froze. Protection of under the disguise of the title of a duke—something valuable.

Moreover, to be able to experience having a family again, even if it’s for survival again?

She couldn't let it slip away!

"A family?" She felt her become choked up with tears, grasping the man's hands. The older man looked shocked but declined to speak. A father's touch, a father's embrace. It was different from her adoptive fathers' who had rarely acknowledged her aside from her academic accomplishments.

“I...I would be honored to serve His Majesty and to be your son.” She scrambles to say, stumbling over her words. The action made the man in turn laugh.

‘Oh,’ She thought beginning to close her eyes, ‘Sir Monet, you should smile more.’

"Noir.”

“...pardon, Sir Monet?”

“Your name will be Noir, be sure to answer to it when spoken to.”