—Why, monsieur. That is, perhaps, because more than injecting magic into me... She rather cursed me.— she paused a bit as if trying to find the right words to explain concisely the point of it all.

—You see, monsieur, she touched my hair and drank one of my tears, the exchange cursed me. As the night falls, my hair turns as dark as the sky, and as long as the sunrise allows it. However, I didn't give her the tear, she took it from me, and that is why Grand-mama says it's a curse rather than an act of magic. What do you think, monsieur? Am I just cursed or do I have some magic within me?— She asked with a pleasant and relaxed smile with her eyes barely opened, staring at him almost sharply.