Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Marinette, have you even washed your face today?”

“No, Stepmother,” she responded. “You told me to come straight here.”

It wasn't the right answer.

“That doesn't mean you can't make yourself presentable!” Audrey exclaimed in outrage, displeasure causing her facial features to be pinched. “What will everyone think if they see you like this?”

Marinette zoned out.

There were better things to focus on.

For instance, Chloé was peering out from the doorway, pulling faces.

Marinette tried not to laugh.

“Did I say something amusing?” Audrey demanded, clapping her hands once to get her attention. “I don't know why I even bother with you. You came here in your undergarments.”

“I am dressed—”

“Goodness, you do this on purpose,” Audrey snapped, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Is it so hard not to antagonise me, Marinette?”

She kept her mouth shut.

Audrey's expression was still one of disapproval. “Go to your bedroom.”

Marinette turned on her heel and marched away without another word. As she walked past Chloé, she could make out Audrey muttering something underneath her breath.

“Ignore her,” Chloé said, following along. “She's upset because Zoé ran off again.”

“That isn't anything new,” she responded as they made it to her bedroom in the servant's quarters. The room was small, there wasn't a single window in the room, and even the furniture was of worse quality than the rest of the home. “Zoé runs away before the sun even rises.”

“Mother thinks it's a phase,” Chloé replied, sitting down on the edge of Marinette's unmade bed. Then, without an ounce of decorum, Chloé flopped down to stare up at the ceiling. “And you're not exactly helping.”

Marinette scoffed. “Me?”

“She bitches at me whenever you give her an attitude!” Chloé complained, throwing her hands up in exasperation before leaning on them to push herself up. “Is it so hard to grin and bear it? She won't hit you that hard, you know.”

“Chloé,” she said slowly, “that's not the problem and you know it.”

Chloé raised her eyebrows.

Marinette copied her expression.

Eventually, Chloé slumped back down to avoid looking at her. “Maybe if you were nicer, Mother would accept you.”

“I was here first,” she muttered bitterly.

“Yeah, and I'm older,” Chloé replied matter-of-factly. “And I say that you're a little bitch, so get over it.”

“Wow, thanks, sis.”

“Ew, don't call me that.”

“Stepsis,” she corrected.

“That just sounds like sepsis!” Chloé exclaimed, pointing at her blindly. Her aim was off. “Shut the fuck up, Marinette. You're giving me a headache.”

She pursed her lips.

Silence wasn't the response Chloé wanted.

With a grunt, Chloé sat upright and glared at her. “Oh, you think you're funny, do you?”

Marinette smiled.

“Go back to normal, loser,” Chloé said, jumping to her feet. “Meet me outside in ten. And wear something nice.”

And with that, Chloé swept out without a look back to see whether she'd agreed to it or not.

It wasn't as though Marinette had a lot of choice in this house. Between Audrey's constant criticism and Chloé's peculiar brand of showing affection, it was obvious who Marinette preferred to be with.

They'd gotten along better in the past few years, after all. Chloé wasn't awful any more.

Marinette dressed in one of Chloé's hand-me-downs—since Audrey claimed Zoé deserved new clothes instead of second-hand ones—and brushed her hair before going downstairs.

Audrey still wasn't pleased with her outfit.

Marinette bowed her head in greeting as she walked past her.

“Do try not to embarrass us,” Audrey snapped.

She stayed quiet.

Shopping with a companion wasn't a simple affair.

With Chloé by her side, they had to go to almost all of the shops. Chloé insisted on trying on clothes, sampling the new accessories, and checking to see any of the new desserts that the shops had to offer.

It was expensive every time.

“Oh, come off it,” Chloé replied with a laugh. “This is nothing.”

“This is all of my money,” Marinette responded, unimpressed. “You conveniently forgot your purse again.”

Chloé waved a hand dismissively. “I'll pay you later.”

“I have nothing left!” she exclaimed, showing the few pennies left in her purse. “How am I supposed to get the shopping now? Audrey's going to kill me if I come back empty-handed.”

They hadn't finished their circuit this trip. Chloé had splurged on a new bracelet before they'd made it to the food.

Chloé shrugged. “I'll say I spent it, whatever.”

It didn't make her feel any better. “I wasn't allowed dinner last time.”

“I'll bring some food up to you, it's fine,” Chloé said.

“A piece of bread won't be enough when I couldn't even have breakfast,” Marinette pointed out, crossing her arms. “Don't you feel bad at all?”

“Maybe I should run off with Zoé to leave you to Mother's wrath,” Chloé remarked.

She snorted. “As if Zoé's friends would want you there.”

“Friends?” Chloé repeated, sounding close to laughter. “They are not her friends. She's going to open her eyes and realise that they're only after her money someday.”

Marinette wisely kept her mouth shut.

In a rare show of concern, Chloé cleared her throat before asking, “Are you that worried about going home?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Fine,” Chloé said, straightening up. “You stay right here until I get back.”

Marinette tried to argue, “What? That's—”

Chloé marched off with determination before she could finish her sentence.

Left in the street, Marinette tried to avoid eye contact with everyone that walked past. She was a few steps away from the middle where carriages would pass through, though she was blocking the way for other pedestrians at times.

At least it wasn't raining.

Marinette idly braided her hair while waiting, growing bored as the minutes passed. Chloé had either forgotten where she'd stashed her purse or crossed paths with Audrey. In Audrey's mind, there was always a conversation waiting to happen when Chloé chose to spend time with Marinette.

It was petty and ridiculous.

“Excuse me, coming through!”

It was behind her.

“Please move!”

Before she could, someone bumped into her. Marinette stumbled and was about to fall over before she was grabbed and set upright.

“I'm sorry!” It was a man, red-faced underneath his hood. He took his hands away from her body as quickly as they'd come. “I didn't mean—fuck, I've gotta go.”

With a panicked look behind, he grabbed onto her wrist and started to tug her along.

Marinette was horrified. “What are you—”

“Please, cooperate with me,” he managed to get out before bursting out into a sprint. “And be quiet! We don't want them to catch us!”

She had no choice in the matter.

They ran through the cobblestone streets without a destination in mind. The man looped around a few times, turning down alleys that took them back to the main street before he cursed and tried a different direction.

It was unclear whether this was on purpose or if he wasn't a local.

“We're going the wrong way,” she said, too quietly for him to hear. The sound of her breathing was louder than her words. “This is going towards the main square.”

He didn't show any sign that he'd heard her.

When they stopped by a street sign, he hastily made sure his oversized cloak was still on and covering most of his hair. With another panicked glance to see whether they were being followed, he dragged her down another road.

Her face was dripping with sweat. Her nicest dress wasn't designed with such activities in mind.

“Oh, gosh,” the man said, sounding haggard as he almost doubled over on the path. Finally letting go of her, he put his hands on his knees and tried to get his breath back.

Marinette wasn't in any better condition.

Without a care for her appearance, she sat down on the dirt, leaning back against the fence as she took in deep breaths. They'd made it out of the village at that point, out by the overgrown fields that were the least tended to. The roads weren't the favoured ones that led to the capital.

As soon as he recovered, he turned to her and bowed. “I'm sorry!”

She stayed quiet.

“I panicked,” he rambled on, standing upright to run a hand over his sweaty face. There was dirt smeared on his cheek, though the sweaty hair stuck to his forehead looked worse in comparison. “I shouldn't have abducted you like that! I just—I didn't know what to do and I didn't want you to blow my cover.”

This man was suspicious.

No one would wear such a cloak in this weather.

Marinette asked, “Can I go now?”

“Pardon?” he questioned.

“Can I go?”

“I can't hear you,” he said. “Speak up, please.”

“Can I go?” Marinette demanded, pointing at the road. “I have somewhere to be.”

His lips parted but no words came out.

“You better go before I remember your face,” she said, getting to her feet. Everything was sweaty and dirt had even stuck to her palms. “You made such a scene that the guards are surely looking for you.”

“Oh, no,” he said, scrambling to pull his hood further over his face. If she couldn't see him, then he couldn't see her either. “Please, don't.”

“...Aren't you supposed to threaten me with a knife?”

“Excuse me?” he spluttered.

“You know, you're not a very good criminal,” Marinette remarked, leaning forward. “Aren't you running because you committed a crime? You've gotta keep my mouth shut somehow.”

“Why would I have a knife?” he questioned.

Although he was still suspicious, Marinette was starting to relax around him. He looked younger than she'd expected now that they were face-to-face, his clothing looked decent quality underneath the cloak, and his voice wasn't bad.

A pretty face was her weakness.

“Why not?” she questioned, patting her hip. “Even I have one—if you threaten me any more, I'll get it out.”

He gawked at her.

She tried not to laugh. “Good luck, stranger.”

His voice cracked. “You're... leaving?”

“I was waiting for someone before you rudely dragged me away,” she reminded him, smoothing out her skirt. “Speaking of, do you know where you're going?”

He wetted his lips. “Yes.”

“Do you?” she questioned. “It didn't seem like it before.”

His shoulders slumped. “Was it that obvious?”

“Yes, definitely,” she confirmed. “Where do you need to go?”

He questioned, “How do I know you're not going to turn around and point the guards in my direction?”

Marinette smiled. “You don't.”

He took a step back.

At least he had some sense not to trust a stranger.

“All right, good luck,” Marinette said, taking a step back. “I hope I never see you again.”

He looked shocked.

She gestured to her cheek. “You've got mud on your face.”

Slowly, he touched his cheek while still gawking at her.

“See ya,” she said, giving a wave as she started to walk away.

She made it halfway up the road when she heard him call out, “Wait!”

Without looking behind to confirm it was to her, she kept walking.

“Miss, wait!” There was no denying that he was addressing her now. “Please, stop!”

Marinette came to a stop with a huff. “What?”

The man shyly asked, “Can I—can I see you again?”

She was bewildered. “No.”

“No,” he repeated in amazement. And after saying it underneath his breath again, he questioned, “You're a peculiar woman, aren't you?”

“Are you trying to be offensive?” Marinette asked, furrowing her brow. “You haven't exactly made a good first impression. I told you, I'm ready to stab you at any moment.”

“That's what I mean!” he said, sounding more confident with every word. Although she came up to his shoulders, his height wasn't intimidating. “You're very... different.”

She demanded, “What do you want?”

His smile showed dimples on his cheeks. “Directions, if you'd be so kind.”

The difference in his expression was jarring. While he'd been pretty before, it held nothing to his smile right now.

“Where?” she questioned.

“I have it written down, hang on,” he said, moving the cloak aside to reach into his pocket. It showed that his belt was made of good quality leather. “Here! I was trying to find my way when I got... stopped.”

The handwriting was really bad.

“It's close,” Marinette informed him, handing back the paper. “It's on the outskirts, so go to the right and follow the road. Try not to get stabbed.”

He sounded amused. “You're not going to show me?”

“No.”

“Well, thank you,” he said, showing her another bright smile. “How can I repay you?”

“Leaving me alone,” she responded without missing a beat.

He threw his head back and laughed.

She walked away.

“Marinette!” Chloé exclaimed in outrage. “Where have you been? I almost got a sunburn from waiting for you!”

“You could've gone inside somewhere,” she replied, leaning in to inspect Chloé's face. It was true that the end of her nose was red. “I have some salve at home, I'll give it to you.”

“You think I want your discount cream?” Chloé retorted. “I have my own.”

“No, you don't,” she corrected. “Audrey took it last week.”

“What the fuck?” Chloé demanded. “And you didn't tell me?”

She shrugged.

“You're horrible,” Chloé accused, throwing a pouch at her.

Marinette caught it. The fabric was embroidered and pretty as there was no place for tacky things in Chloé's life.

“This isn't your purse,” she said.

Chloé's smile was all teeth. “I took it from Mother's room.”

Marinette looked down at the pouch in horror. “What?”

“I said you got robbed before we could get the shopping,” Chloé proclaimed.

She didn't know how to respond to that.

Surely, Chloé was joking—

“Mother expects us home in half an hour, by the way,” Chloé said, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Something about having an important guest over for dinner. I guess you're on cooking duty.”

The blows kept coming.

“Guests?” she repeated.

“You know... the rich and uppity kind,” Chloé replied, leaning in to whisper the last word. “She thinks Zoé has a chance of being accepted into the academy, so she's sucking up to them.”

Marinette knew she was in for a busy night, then.

Chloé spent all of their money again. They did manage to get everything on the shopping list this time.

When they returned, Marinette was immediately ushered into the kitchen to help out the other servants. Audrey chastised her for her poor choice of clothing—stating that she shouldn't dress up when she had work to do—and Marinette was told to stop talking before she could respond at all.

It was hot in the kitchen.

Although she was sweating, it wasn't as bad as running for so long earlier.

She must've smelled awful by that point.

Chloé tried to come into the kitchen to keep her company, but Audrey caught her and told her off.

Zoé arrived just before their guests did.

Marinette stayed in the kitchen the entire time. She wasn't allowed out to deliver the food or wait on the family, so she stayed by the fireplace and stared into the embers.

A servant patted her head on the way past.

She smiled at them.

She still couldn't say a word.

“Speak up, child,” Audrey snapped.

Marinette gave her a dirty look. “Yes, ma'am.”

“Your attitude is horrendous,” Audrey stated, looking at her from head-to-toe. There was no affection in her gaze, though there had never been. “How long until your birthday?”

“Months,” she said.

Audrey sighed. “It's not like I can sell you off for marriage either...”

“I have chores to do,” Marinette interjected. “May I be excused?”

“Yes, off you go,” Audrey said, waving a hand at her dismissively. “If you see Zoé, send her in.”

She wisely didn't answer that.

Although the dinner had gone successfully last night—from what she can gather by Audrey's good mood—that didn't mean the dynamic in the house had changed. Zoé disappeared at any chance she could, Audrey had a problem with every servant that she had to voice out each day, and Chloé tried to stay out of Audrey's view as much as possible.

Marinette always felt in the way.

It had been like that for years, though.

Chloé exclaimed, “Put the rag down!”

Marinette dropped it instantly.

“Good, I knew you wouldn't need convincing,” Chloé said, sounding entirely smug. “Get up, we're going on an adventure.”

She gave her an unimpressed look.

“It's a nice day,” Chloé pointed out. “And we have servants for a reason.”

“Your mother made me a servant,” she flatly responded.

“Not officially,” Chloé replied. “You're not paid fairly for your labour either. Whatever, Mother's not going to scold you as long as you're with me.”

That was a lie and they both knew it.

“I don't know who you're trying to fool here,” she muttered.

“Let's go to the lake,” Chloé decided, dragging her outside without so much as a parasol or a hat. “It must be nice there today.”

“Others will think that, too,” she said. “We won't be the only ones there.”

“Yeah, but they won't come near us,” Chloé replied, linking their arms together as they started to walk down the road. “I'll bully them away from a good spot.”

“You're very charming.”

Chloé beamed.

It was true that it was a nice day. Chloé had on a pretty dress, her hair was braided beautifully, and she shined wherever she went. Audrey made sure that her daughters were well cared for.

Marinette was a different matter.

Her shoes were too small and she hadn't saved enough money to buy a new pair yet.

“This will do,” Chloé decided, stomping down the grass to make a spot for them to sit.

It was a spot close to the water that was on the overgrown side. The breeze was pleasant, the view was lovely, and Marinette was able to relax.

Life wasn't always this hard. Then again, she'd been young and blind to what her future would hold. The curse wasn't the worst thing about her any more.

“You think Zoé's gonna get in?”

“Eh, maybe they'll get her into those special lessons,” Marinette replied, ripping out some grass to play with. “Audrey made a generous donation, that's why they came over today at all.”

“They didn't come for me,” Chloé muttered bitterly.

“You didn't charm the tutors,” she pointed out.

“Fuck off.”

“I'm just saying—”

“Well, you don't need to!” Chloé snapped back. “My life plan is simple. I'm gonna marry someone rich and not lift a finger.”

She snorted. “Humble.”

“You know what?” Chloé turned towards her with a wide smile. “I'll seduce someone so rich that I'll be able to send you money each month.”

Marinette nodded. “Aim for the sky.”

“In that case, royalty!” Chloé decided, clenching her fist in front of her. “I'll marry that prince—you know, the impotent one?”

She laughed loudly. “You think he's impotent?”

“He hasn't chosen a wife yet—”

“Isn't he the same age as us?” Marinette questioned in amusement. “Would you rush into marriage right now? And for him, it's, like, a big deal. Imagine making the wrong choice!”

“It's a big deal for anyone,” Chloé rebutted. “And I'm clearly the right choice. All I want is his money.”

“Seduce a rich old person,” she suggested. “They'll die quicker and you won't have to be nice to your loyal subject.”

“You're my only loyal subject,” Chloé cooed, reaching out to pinch Marinette's cheek. “No one's ever going to be as good as you.”

She slapped her hand away. “What do you want?”

“I'm complimenting you.”

“It doesn't sound like it,” she said.

Chloé winked.

Zoé didn't make it into the academy.

The chances were minimal regardless. As Zoé would've been too old to join the youngest classes, where the other students would be eleven, Audrey had been aiming for a different goal. For the children that couldn't attend the regular classes, there was a month-long period where those invited could have a short education.

There was no one like that in their village.

As with everything, gossip spread through to them from the capital city nearby. Marinette's knowledge came mostly from locals that liked to talk and greeted her when she was doing the shopping.

Zoé was incredibly happy that she didn't have to go to school, even if it was only for a month.

Audrey was the opposite.

Audrey's mood was worse than ever. A servant scurried into the kitchen with a burn on their hand from Audrey's temper.

Marinette was slapped on the face.

Chloé tried to intervene and was shoved into a dresser, resulting in a large bruise on her hip.

Zoé continued to sneak out in the mornings. As the youngest—by a few months, as all of them were born close together—her punishments were strictly verbal and mostly taken out on Marinette and the servants instead.

“You should spike her tea,” Chloé suggested sulkily.

“With what?” Marinette questioned. “I only have a herb that'll make her shit herself. And I'd probably be made to clean it up.”

Chloé sighed in disappointment. “Oh, not worth it then.”

There was a beat of silence.

Then, she softly said, “Thank you.”

“For my great idea?”

“For earlier,” Marinette clarified, fiddling with her sleeve. “You really have to stop getting between me and her. It'll end up badly one day.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Chloé demanded. “Just watch?”

“You used to,” she whispered.

Chloé flinched.

It wasn't unfair of her to say, was it?

Chloé avoided looking in her eyes. “I deserve that.”

“It's okay,” Marinette said.

“No, I was so shit to you,” Chloé replied, running a hand roughly over her face. “You didn't deserve that.”

“It's fine,” she said.

“Marinette, shut up,” Chloé demanded. “You need to stop being so—so nice! There's a limit to how much crap you can put up with.”

With her lips pursed, she looked at Chloé expectantly.

“No, I'm not taking it back,” Chloé retorted, crossing her arms. “What if I tell you to grow a backbone? Will that work?”

She shook her head.

“I should've told you to stay still,” Chloé muttered. “Whatever, you can talk again.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” she said with a mocking bow of her head. “You're so kind.”

Chloé sniffed. “I'm practising for my life as a queen.”

She laughed.

Audrey yelled her name.

The laughter ended.

“Do you know why I allow you to stay here, Marinette?” Audrey questioned with a wine glass in hand that was untouched.

The liquid was sloshing around dangerously.

She kept her mouth shut with her hands behind her back.

“The answer is because I'm generous,” Audrey said, leaning back to look at Marinette from head-to-toe. Her expression wasn't a kind one. “I care for you, I make sure you eat, and this—this is how you repay me?”

Without being told to, she kept quiet.

She hadn't done anything wrong. Nothing was broken, none of the servants had blamed anything on her, and she'd completed her chores that morning before Chloé had demanded that they hang out.

Audrey never needed a good reason to be cruel.

“Your father was a kind man, yet none of that was passed down to you, was it?”

Marinette swallowed.

Zoé hadn't made it home for dinner.

Audrey's mood was already bad because of that. It was worsened when Marinette stumbled and almost dropped the dinner plate.

Although she was unable to see Chloé's expression—as she was facing Audrey right now—she knew that it couldn't be a good one. It was never pleasant when Audrey lost her temper.

“A dog would be more well-behaved than you,” Audrey said.

“Mother,” Chloé started to protest, sounding nervous. “It was a simple mistake.”

Audrey didn't look at her daughter. “Am I talking to you, Chloé?”

“Mother—”

Audrey placed the wine glass down with more force than necessary. The noise was enough to make Chloé shut her mouth.

Then, Audrey's smile was all teeth.

It wasn't a pleasant expression.

Audrey picked up her plate and placed it on the floor without much care. A few of the vegetables rolled off and scattered out on the floorboard.

“Eat it,” Audrey said.

There was a lump in her throat.

“Do you think you're better than a dog, Marinette?” Audrey questioned, putting one thigh on top of the other. With her hand coming up to her chin, she demanded, “Get on all fours and eat it.”

“Mother, no!” Chloé protested.

Marinette's eyes burnt.

Against her will, she sank to her knees. It was humiliating, a cold rage soared through her, and the look of hatred that she gave Audrey did nothing to change the situation. If anything, it made Audrey smile wider.

Of all the cruel things she'd done, this was near the top.

“Marinette, stop!” Chloé exclaimed, clearly jumping to her feet from all of the noise. “This is unnecessary! All she did was bump into the table.”

She paused.

Without daring to give away her sudden behaviour change, Marinette stared at the plate in front of her with blurry vision. Her heart was beating fast, it was hard to breathe normally, and all she wanted to do was act out.

It wouldn't end well for her.

“Did I ask you, Chloé?” Audrey demanded. The exasperation in her voice wasn't fitting for the situation. “It's not about the table. Marinette's behaviour has gotten out of hand lately. She's constantly disrespecting me in my own home and avoiding orders to go off gallivanting with you.”

She let out a ragged breath.

It wasn't Audrey's home.

Marinette looked up at her stepmother with hatred.

“You do not get to look at me like that,” Audrey said, taking hold of Marinette's chin tightly. “I took you in. Without me, you would've been begging for scraps on the street.”

She kept her mouth shut, fists clenched at her side.

“Since you're already on your knees, you should finish your meal,” Audrey said, squeezing Marinette's chin before letting go. “Eat it, Marinette.”

There was no cutlery.

With a shaky hand, Marinette scooped some food in her fingers before lifting it to her mouth. It was cold by that point, yet she couldn't taste anything. Her stomach was twisting from her rage and the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears didn't help.

She swallowed.

Audrey looked delighted.

Chloé's voice wobbled. “You don't treat me like this.”

“Darling, that's because you're my child,” Audrey replied, sounding almost fond. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Marinette eating. “You know your place.”

The food got stuck in her throat. She coughed, swallowing to try and get it to go down.

“Stop,” Chloé whispered. “Marinette, stop.”

Her hand paused before putting another mouthful in.

Audrey sighed. “Chloé.”

“She's supposed to be your child, too,” Chloé snapped, forcefully dragging Marinette up to her feet. “This is why Zoé always leaves before you wake up. You're horrible.”

Marinette wobbled, holding onto Chloé's arm for support. It was with the hand that had food on it, yet Chloé didn't make a fuss about it.

“Horrible?” Audrey repeated with a laugh. “Sweetheart, I'm all you have.”

Instead of answering that, Chloé dragged her away.

Marinette had to hold onto the wall at one point from dizziness. Chloé hovered, unsure of how to help, and in the end, neither of them spoke before they made it to Marinette's bedroom.

“I think I'm going to be sick,” she said.

Chloé promptly retrieved a plant pot from a shelf and dumped the soil out on the floor before presenting it to her.

She stared.

“What?” Chloé said. “It wasn't going to grow anyway. You always forget to water them.”

Swallowing didn't get rid of the lump in her throat. “Thank you.”

Chloé was embarrassed. “Yeah, whatever.”

Marinette closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the flower pot.

That situation had been infuriating and humiliating, but it wasn't the first time. It would never be the last either. For as long as she'd live, she'd have to deal with things like that.

“I'm sorry,” Chloé said.

Her laugh was weak. “You stopped it.”

“I'm sorry you have to go through this,” Chloé corrected, punching Marinette's arm lightly. “What would've happened if I wasn't there? That's—”

“Inevitable,” she finished.

Chloé breathed out loudly. “It shouldn't be.”

“Yeah, you're telling me,” she muttered. “It's not like I can stop it. It's—it's a forever thing.”

“What if you hunted down the fairy?” Chloé proposed. “You can demand them to take it back—”

“A fairy will never take back their blessing,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. After repeating it countless times, the fact didn't bring her sorrow any more. It was the way of life. “It's useless to try.”

“Says who?” Chloé demanded. “What else are you supposed to do? Be pushed around forever?”

“Yes, I am,” she said, opening her eyes. Her vision wasn't fuzzy any more. “I'm someone that will always do what they're told. Isn't that the dream?”

Chloé scowled at her. “That's not a dream, that's a nightmare.”

“Well, it's my nightmare,” Marinette said, hugging the flower pot to her chest. “And I'm stuck with it.”

That was also a fact. When she was younger, she'd dreamed of rebelling against it—to do the opposite of what people wanted—but it never turned out that way. She could be crying only to have her body stop it in an instant because it was demanded of her.

Her will wasn't under her control.

All it took was someone to say something in a certain way for it to take effect.

“If you're not going to do anything about it, I will!” Chloé exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “I'll—I'll be the one to go looking for a fairy!”

Marinette's expression didn't change. It wasn't the first time Chloé had said such a thing.

She pointed out, “It's not a fairy, you need the same one to cast it.”

“I'll find them!”

“Chloé, you can't find your clothes in the morning,” she said.

“That's an entirely different matter,” Chloé retorted. “This is a life-or-death thing, I'll figure it out.”

She snorted. “Sure.”

With a glare, Chloé pointed at her. “Wait right here.”

She did just that.

While Chloé stomped out of the room, Marinette closed her eyes again, putting one hand on her stomach. It had calmed down since the events, but there was still food smeared on her hand and her clothes. She felt sticky and gross and wouldn't be allowed to bathe until the evening—if at all.

The door slammed open.

Marinette jumped.

Chloé's smile was wild as she held up a pouch. “I found it.”

Bewildered, she asked, “And... that is?”

“My savings,” Chloé proclaimed, quietly shutting the door behind her. It was redundant when she'd made that much noise before. Chloé tossed the pouch at her. “Here.”

It ended up going in the flower pot. Marinette peered in, dubiously poking the fabric to find out how much money was inside.

“That feels heavy,” she remarked.

Chloé's voice was smug. “It is.”

That made even less sense. “Why?”

With her arms crossed, Chloé leaned back against the door. “You're going to take it and find that fucking fairy.”

“...Pardon?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” Chloé snapped.

She blinked.

“If both of us leave, Mother will take it all out on Zoé,” Chloé stated. “I'll cover for you. I'll say that I sent you on some errand, I don't know.”

Marinette looked down at the pouch. “We both know that I won't find them.”

“Have you ever really tried?” Chloé demanded. And before she could answer, Chloé said, “No, you haven't. Not beyond asking around the village. Why the fuck would a fairy stay here? They wouldn't!”

“I've never left here,” she said.

“Smile and ask nicely for directions, then stab anyone that looks at you funny,” Chloé advised. “You'll be fine.”

“...All someone has to do is tell me to stop.”

Chloé snapped her fingers. “You could put something over your ears.”

She laughed. “That's a terrible idea.”

“It would work!” Chloé protested. “Avoid roads so you won't accidentally get run over because you can't hear and it's foolproof, I'm telling you.”

“A simpler solution to finding this fairy would be to make myself deaf,” Marinette said, touching her ear. “Do you think I just have to stab something in here?”

“No.”

“It was a joke!” she defended.

Chloé glowered. “It didn't sound like it.”

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. “I can't take your money.”

“You can and will,” Chloé retorted. “You're going on an errand for me, remember? Take it and fucking run.”

The chances of finding the fairy were dangerously low. Finding a specific person that had come here once seventeen years ago?

It was impossible.

It was more likely that Marinette would take the money and run.

Gently, she tugged the string from the top of the pouch to inspect how much was inside.

It was enough to start a new life if she wanted to. Marinette could travel far enough to rent a room, pick up a job in a town—

Surely, Chloé knew that as well.

Her stomach was twisting again.

How was she supposed to express her feelings?

“Take a bath, you're covered in food,” Chloé told her.

She laughed.

When it came to leaving, Marinette had very little belongings. A lot had been thrown out after her father's passing, then she'd had to part with toys and other trinkets that had gotten tattered or broken throughout the years.

She rolled up a few clothes, another pouch of money to keep all of it separate, and tossed in a few essentials. With the money she had, she could purchase things along the way instead of weighing herself down.

Marinette slapped her cheeks in the mirror.

Chloé didn't want to get emotional.

“No,” Chloé said, holding a hand up to stop Marinette from approaching closer. “We're not doing this.”

She smiled. “Chloé.”

“Not happening,” Chloé rejected. “You need to leave.”

“Hey—”

“Don't make me command you,” Chloé threatened, pointing at her eyes before at Marinette. “Mother will be downstairs soon.”

She said, “If I find a rich old man, I'll tell him about you.”

Chloé gave her a thumbs up. “Or old woman, I'm not picky. Money is money.”

She laughed loudly.

Chloé shooed her.

The tavern was busy.

Marinette wiped her forehead with her forearm, letting out a sigh.

It was a family-run business that had been kind enough to offer her accommodation while working there. Marinette wisely said yes, and for the past month, she'd been working there. Meals were supplied, the family's children were her age so they got along well, and the townspeople were kind.

Marinette didn't need to say anything more than that her parents were dead.

She was welcomed with open arms.

The only problem was that the demands of patrons were directed at her sometimes.

“You need to learn to say no,” Luka said.

Marinette didn't look into his eyes. “Yes, I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologise, Marinette,” he said, scratching his cheek. “If someone's giving you trouble, call for me or my parents. Even Juleka! Anyone that's available.”

She gave a small smile. “Okay.”

He was happy with that. “Good.”

The owner's son and daughter were very kind. They were both tall, awkward, and blushed easily when customers complimented them. Marinette was delighted to see their interactions on her first night on the job when she'd been terribly nervous.

That evening, Luka's friends came to visit.

Juleka filled her in on the gossip. “They're from the academy.”

She was shocked. “Luka went there?”

“He received a scholarship for all years,” Juleka revealed with a proud smile. “And he passed, too.”

“That's... amazing,” she said, lost for words.

It didn't add up, though. The academy was famous for helping people get their dream jobs; it was better than the average school and teenagers across the country tried to get in. Audrey's hefty donation had persuaded an official to come over to meet Zoé in hopes that she'd be able to take a test for the month-long classes.

If Luka passed years of education, he would've been somewhere more profitable than in his family's tavern in a small town. The capital was better off for people like him.

Juleka saw her expression. “Yes, that means he's met a fairy.”

She frowned. “I wasn't thinking that.”

“Oh, really?” Juleka replied. “It's what everyone wants to ask. Travellers come in here because they've heard about it.”

To her, a fairy wasn't a pleasant existence. The people searching for them to ask for a blessing didn't know how it could backfire.

She asked quietly, “Is it... that big of a deal?”

“Isn't it?” Juleka replied.

It wasn't, though. The academy had been founded by fairies and according to rumours, one or two remained on the staff. They didn't go around granting every student wishes; if anything, it was a running joke that poor families tried to get their children admitted so they could beg to be blessed for a better life.

There was no record of it ever happening.

Marinette could see where people were getting their dreams from, though. No rumours of a blessing gone wrong had ever reached her yet—then again, blessings were rare in the first place.

“I guess,” she begrudgingly agreed.

Luka's friends were well-dressed and unfamiliar. In the month she'd been working there, they had never appeared. They looked far too put together for this town.

“They'll probably stay in an inn and leave after a few days,” Juleka remarked. “That's what usually happens.”

“Luka doesn't go with them?” she questioned.

“Travelling isn't his thing,” Juleka said.

She wasn't sure if it was hers either.

The friends stayed around for three days.

Marinette greeted them with a shy smile when they came into the tavern again. She kept their interactions to a minimum, though she could hear them talk loudly one night when word got out where they were all from.

A lot of people asked about fairies.

They gladly informed everyone that they'd seen one, but never interacted with any. The last fairy teacher in the school had taught different classes.

It didn't deter people from asking more questions.

Marinette didn't ask a single one.

She was behind the bar that night.

It was a slow weekday, so the owners had gone to the back to prepare dinner, leaving her in charge for a bit. Juleka was taking a nap and Luka was busy washing the dishes.

She was fine being alone up front. If there was any trouble, a local would help her out or the owners would come running.

A customer came in dressed in an oversized cloak. The material was far too thick for the weather and she felt stuffy from looking at them.

“Hello,” they greeted, adjusting the hood to try and obscure their face. It didn't do well when they were so much taller than her, so she almost had a clear view of them. “I'm looking for...”

Marinette waited.

The man reached into his pocket and took out a scrap of paper. “Luka?”

“Luka's busy right now,” she replied, leaning onto the counter. “He'll be back in... ten minutes? You can sit down and wait for him.”

He shifted on his feet. “Would it be possible to talk to him now?”

She shook her head. “No, he needs to finish washing the dishes.”

He frowned. “Can't you take over?”

“No, sir,” she replied with a tut. “I've been assigned to be out front and I'm not going against my boss' word.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” she echoed. “Seriously, sit down. Have a drink and relax.”

“...Are you just trying to get my money?” he questioned.

She smiled. “No?”

“It's a good tactic, but I'll pass,” the man said, taking a stool in front of her. He could've sat at a table and not continued their conversation. “You look familiar.”

The first time someone had said that to her, she'd been embarrassed. “I have a common face.”

The man laughed. “We both know that's a lie.”

“I'm not interested,” she bluntly replied.

He made a choked noise. “Pardon?”

“Whatever you think this is,” Marinette started, gesturing between them. “It's not happening.”

“Oh, I'm not—I'm not trying to seduce you,” he stuttered out, sounding horrified. “Not that you're not pretty! I'm serious. I think we've met before.”

“I doubt that,” she replied, giving him a suspicious look. “I haven't seen you around here before.”

“I came to meet Luka,” he said. “Is he...”

“He's busy.”

“As in, actually busy or you think I'm going to kill him?” he questioned, glancing to see whether anyone was near enough to hear him. “I'm not a threat, I swear.”

Marinette took a step back. “Forgive me for not believing you. The cloak doesn't make you very credible.”

“I'm hiding,” he said.

She whistled. “That's not suspicious at all.”

“It's not from the law,” he rushed to say. “I swear, I'm innocent. I haven't done anything bad.”

“As much as I want to believe you, you're super suspicious,” Marinette replied, a bit amused by his reaction. “I must warn you that I have a knife and I will stab you if you do anything weird.”

“Oh!” He jumped to his feet, smiling widely. “It's you.”

She leaned back.

“You gave me directions before!” he happily informed her. “At—oh, where was it? A village. I can't remember the name right now.”

Was he wearing the same cloak?

It was memorable meeting a suspicious man that then seemed too frazzled to be dangerous.

Marinette surged forward and demanded, “Keep your voice down.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“I mean, yes, that was me,” she said, a bit panicked. “Can you—can you not remember? I haven't exactly told everyone where I'm from and I want to keep it that way.”

“I see,” he said, settling back down on his stool. After putting his elbows on the bar and resting his chin on top of his fists, he questioned, “Who's the suspicious one now?”

“Still you,” she retorted.

He hummed. “It might be half-and-half.”

“Look, you're probably just here to ask Luka about the academy,” Marinette started, crossing her arms. “You're not going to get anywhere.”

He gasped. “How did you know?”

“You're not the first,” she replied, exasperated. “So many have! And he'll tell you the same thing—he doesn't know any fairies.”

The man sat up properly. “None?”

“None,” she confirmed. “His teachers were all human, sorry.”

He ran a hand over his pretty face before making sure his hood was on straight. “I still have things I want to ask.”

Like everyone else, this man would be turned around. Luka would've been selling his information to make a profit if he had anything.

Marinette proposed, “Buy a drink and I'll get him.”

The man was surprised. “Really?”

“An expensive one,” she clarified.

“I can do that,” he said, taking a couple of coins out of his pocket. “Is this enough?”

It was more than enough.

“It'll do,” she replied, taking them all before pouring him their cheapest drink. It wouldn't be enough to make him tipsy on an empty stomach.

He finished it in one swig and looked at her expectantly.

Stepping into the kitchen, Luka had already finished up his washing. He was having a snack instead.

Luka tried to hide the apple and gave her a sheepish smile.

“A strange man is asking for you,” she said, gesturing to the door behind her. “He wants to know about fairies.”

Luka sighed and looked like he was walking to his death.

She patted his shoulder in encouragement.

“Protect this for me,” he pleaded, passing her the half-eaten apple.

She held it preciously. “With my life.”

He let out a huff of amusement before going out through the door.

Luka had gone to a table to talk to the man for a while. Marinette did keep peeking at them from the bar, but some customers did come in and need her attention.

When Luka trudged over, she took out the apple that she'd safely stashed underneath the bar. She rubbed it with her rag to make it shiny and held it out to him with a smile.

“Thank you,” he said. “You're the best.”

“That lasted longer than the others,” she remarked.

Luka wrinkled his nose. “He had really specific questions.”

“Do they usually not?” she enquired.

“They don't normally ask about a fairy that came through seventeen years ago,” Luka replied. “That's the first time I've ever had that.”

Marinette's breath caught in her throat. “Seventeen years?”

He shrugged. “It's the first I've heard of it.”

It wasn't for her, though.

What were the chances? Her village had had no records of the fairy passing through. Marinette's blessing was the only proof that it had happened at all. If there were others like her, they were tight-lipped as well.

And yet, someone was asking about it.

Had the fairy come through this town as well?

“I really need to pee,” she blurted.

Luka was bewildered. “Okay.”

She rushed out of the door—ignoring Luka's call that she was going the wrong way—and ran through the street looking for the cloaked man. He couldn't have gotten far.

Only one man was wearing such heavy clothing in this weather.

“Wait!” Marinette called out breathlessly.

Unfortunately, he either didn't hear her or thought he wasn't addressing her.

Instead of calling out again, she ran until she caught up to him and grasped his sleeve.

He whirled around in surprise while she panted from exertion.

“You're...”

Marinette wheezed. “Wait.”

He did.

Once she'd calmed down, she stood up and bluntly asked, “You're looking for that fairy from seventeen years ago?”

His expression turned into one of distrust. “Why?”

“Did they come through here as well as my village?” Marinette questioned.

Suddenly, he was interested in their conversation. “They did visit your village?”

“Are you looking for them?” she asked, dodging his question. “That exact fairy?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

Was this someone else in the same boat as her?

It was unheard of.

Marinette had always wondered whether there was another victim out there—

She swallowed. “Why?”

“Why do you want to know?” he countered.

“I need to meet them,” she confessed quietly, averting her eyes. Instead of looking at his reaction, she stared down at her shoes. “I never—I never knew where to start. No one ever talked about them being there in the first place.”

“But you think they were,” he said.

“I know they were,” she whispered.

There was a beat of silence.

The man questioned, “Is this a trick so you can rob me?”

She snapped her head up. “Excuse me?”

“To lower my defences and take everything I own?” he replied, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. “I've been warned about your kind.”

“I didn't hand you into the guards that time, did I?” Marinette retorted. And before he replied, she said, “I'm not trying to take advantage of you. I just—I want to come.”

“You want to come,” he repeated dubiously.

“You're looking for that fairy, aren't you?” Marinette reminded him.

He frowned. “Yes.”

“I want in,” she announced with her heart beating fast in her chest. This was what Chloé had wanted for her. “Two heads are better than one, right? I can help you.”

The man leaned back. “How would you help?”

This was more than Chloé claiming they should go and find the fairy; this man was already travelling around looking for information, seeking them out on his own.

If she had more motivation, this would've been here. She'd accepted Chloé's money and skipped to a neighbouring town without thinking of venturing out further.

It didn't have to be this way.

“I'd look a hell of a lot less suspicious than you asking for information,” she said with confidence. “I have... personal reasons for wanting to find them. I have money and I can pull my own weight—”

He questioned, “Do you still have the knife under your skirt?”

“Of course,” she replied instantly. “I always have it.”

His expression was hard to decipher.

Marinette didn't look away.

Eventually, he said, “I'm not paying for you.”

“Does that mean I can come?” she exclaimed, feeling a surge of excitement from the idea.

He nodded.

“Oh, yes!” she cheered, clenching a fist in victory. “You won't regret this! Let me get my things and I'll be right out—don't you dare leave!”

“You want to leave now?” he questioned in surprise. “I thought I could come back for you—”

“No way, you're not going without me,” Marinette butted in. Then, with a snap of her fingers, she grabbed onto his sleeve again. “You can wait in the tavern while I get my things.”

“What? I already—”

“It won't take long,” she said, tugging him along.

He tried to protest, “This will look weird.”

“And?” she countered. “It's my choice.”

“I'm not—”

“It'll be fine!” Marinette replied, dragging him happily towards the tavern. Her heart was beating fast, her smile was wide, and she felt more alive than she had in a while. “I wouldn't recommend having another drink, though.”

To her surprise, the owners were worried about her leaving so suddenly. They tried to talk her out of it—whacking Luka on the shoulder to get him to agree with them—and their concern went up when she pointed out the man she would be leaving with.

They'd only known each other for a month.

“Thank you for taking me in,” she said, smiling widely. “I really appreciate everything you've done for me.”

Juleka's eyes were teary when they hugged.

Luka patted her shoulder awkwardly before hugging her as well.

“I'll be safe,” she promised them. “Don't worry.”

With her wages in her pocket, Marinette was able to pack her belongings quickly. She'd only bought a few cheap clothes since arriving in town. The ones that she couldn't fit in her bag were left behind.

She was travelling light again.

The man was still at the table.

“You came,” he said, looking at her with wide eyes.

Marinette tilted her head. “Did you think I wouldn't?”

“I... had my doubts,” he replied, fiddling with an empty glass.

“You had a drink?” she questioned.

“Water,” he clarified, getting up to his feet slowly. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“It's... not easy,” he said slowly. “And you might get hurt.”

She let out a breath. “By you?”

“Me? Not unless you attack me first,” he replied, adjusting his hood. “Is that a problem?”

“That depends,” Marinette said, following him out of the front door. “Have you got a weapon yet? It isn't wise to walk around unarmed. I'm telling you, even kids have something.”

“You're very interested in what's under my cloak,” he remarked.

His clothing was still of good quality. The trousers fit him well, his ankles showed the appropriate amount, and his shirt wasn't too baggy. If it wasn't for the winter cloak that he insisted on wearing, he would've stood out far more for his appearance.

She laughed. “I suppose.”

“I don't even know your name,” he mused.

It wasn't lost on her that she didn't know his either. “Is it important?”

“I'd like to know,” he said.

His wording was off.

Marinette smiled. “No.”

“What am I supposed to call you, then?” he questioned.

“Your partner?” she replied, laughing when he pulled a face. “Marinette. My name is Marinette.”

“Marinette,” he repeated, getting the hang of it. “That's a nice name.”

She smiled. “Thanks, my parents gave it to me.”

He shared a smile with her. “I'm Adrien.”

“Nice to meet you,” she offered.

He stared.

“What is it?” Marinette questioned.

“You...” Adrien trailed off before letting out a breath. “It's not important. The inn I'm staying at might have another room available for you.”

She almost tripped. “Wait, we're not leaving now?”

“It's almost nightfall,” he pointed out. “It would be foolish to travel now.”

Her face felt hot. “I didn't know that!”

“You were too concerned with me running away,” he said with a laugh. “Should I tie a bell around my wrist? That might help you relax.”

She didn't laugh with him. “Let me in your room.”

He was shocked. “Pardon?”

“I'll sleep on the floor,” Marinette proposed, recognising the inn they were walking towards. “There's no point wasting money on another room when you have one already.”

“Do you have a death wish?” Adrien demanded. “What if I hurt you? You don't know me!”

“Knife,” she reminded him. “And if we're going to travel together, I need to know I can trust you.”

“...Your test of trust is to allow me to see you sleeping?” he questioned in shock. “That's a horrible idea. I'm worried about you.”

“It's not the most vulnerable you'll see me on our journey,” she pointed out, talking with unearned confidence. “I'd rather play with fire straight away.”

For a moment, she expected him to shoot her down.

Adrien was staring at her in bewilderment. The cloak didn't obscure much of his expression, though it did make him appear less approachable.

“You are strange,” he whispered.

She beamed. “You'll get used to it.”

The inn offered dinner, so they'd dined at a table in the corner. While waiting for the food, there wasn't much talking between them. Marinette stared at him blatantly throughout, a bit amused how he kept avoiding her gaze.

“Are you going to sleep in the cloak?” she questioned.

Adrien didn't look at her. “I'll take it off when the lamp is out.”

It couldn't be that he was ugly. She could see that his appearance was desirable despite the poor choice in clothing.

It wasn't her place to question him.

“Okay,” she said.

Marinette woke up with a start.

She sat up, wiping the drool on the corner of her mouth with her hand.

“You're up?” Adrien questioned, sounding wide awake. He was sitting up on the bed, reading a book with the light that was coming in through the window. The cloak was back on with the hood pulled up. “I wasn't sure when to wake you up.”

He looked entirely more put together than she felt.

She grunted before stretching.

“We'll leave after breakfast,” he announced.

Marinette nodded.

He questioned, “Are you not a morning person?”

“Let's have this conversation after I've had some food,” she replied, rubbing her eyes with her palms. “I feel like death right now, thanks.”

He laughed.

Travelling with Adrien wasn't painless.

It was expected for them to be awkward together. Adrien told her what town they'd be visiting next, revealing a folded up map from his pocket, but he kept the rest of his plans a secret.

It was half a day's walk to the next town. When they arrived, Adrien found an inn to stay at first before he searched through his belongings for a book that he refused to let her see.

She didn't push him for it. His reluctance was clear from how he angled it away from her and didn't offer any explanation for his reactions.

Marinette placed her bag in the corner, setting up the extra pillow and blanket on the floor for later that evening.

After copying something from the book onto a scrap of paper, Adrien triumphantly said, “I know who we're looking for.”

He had a book of clues, then. That was a hell of a lot more useful than going around asking for anyone that had seen a fairy before.

Outside of their destination, Adrien turned to her and said, “When we go in there, let me do the talking.”

She greeted them with a bow of her head instead of with words.

As with Luka, it was a bust.

Adrien was quiet.

After they left, Marinette asked, “Is this all you do?”

He was grumpy. “What else do you suggest?”

“Trying to be more approachable would be a good starting place,” she replied, gesturing between them. “I look like you kidnapped me right now.”

He scoffed. “It's not about you.”

“No, it's not,” she agreed, placing her hands behind her back. “Imagine it—a weird cloaked man comes into town and immediately hunts someone down to ask about fairies. Isn't that strange?”

“Again, what else do you suggest?” Adrien snapped, sounding more frustrated than she'd heard before. “I can't take this off.”

She requested, “Can you leave it up to me next time?”

He frowned. “You?”

“Me,” she confirmed, smile reaching her eyes. “I need to pull my weight, right? Let me try.”

“I don't see how you think you'll be more successful—”

“Let's make a bet, then,” Marinette interrupted, trying to make a game of it. “If I manage to do better than you just now, you'll treat me to dinner.”

He squinted. “I said I wasn't paying for you.”

“If I'm worse, I'll buy yours,” she said.

Adrien wasn't impressed. “I'm not struggling for money.”

“It's about the bragging rights, not the reward,” Marinette replied. “Let's have some fun, Adrien. Otherwise, we'll end up frustrated and angry.”

He pursed his lips.

She looked at him expectantly.

His shoulders sagged. “Fine.”

She beamed.

“A room with one bed, please,” Adrien requested.

It was a small village this time. The size of it rivalled her own—from the fields of crops surrounding them, the one street row of shops, and the cobblestone streets that made carriages shake dangerously—and she almost felt at home there.

The inn they'd been directed to was charming. There were flowers everywhere; from the pot on the table by the door, beneath all of the windows outside, along with the delicate garden out front. It was clear that appearances were valued by the owners.

Before the owner could respond, Marinette leaned into Adrien's arm and rested her head on his shoulder. “We're on a trip before our wedding.”

Adrien made a choked noise.

The owner told them they were a cute couple and proceeded to ask a few more questions, all of which Marinette excitedly answered, hugging Adrien's arm and smiling up at him throughout.

When they got to their room, he removed his arm and took a pointed step away. “What was that?”

“A backstory,” she replied, putting her hands on her hips. “Is there something wrong?”

His face was red. “We... didn't agree to that.”

“Oh, but you did,” she smugly replied. “You said you'd let me handle it, remember? This is me doing that.”

Adrien spluttered, “We haven't even met them yet—”

“And we won't, not yet,” Marinette replied. “We're gonna stay here for a few days.”

“No, we're not.”

“Do you have a time limit?” she questioned, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “We don't have to rush this. This is a small village—they're gonna talk and gossip when we're not looking.”

“That won't make them tell us anything more,” Adrien said, rubbing a hand over his face. “Pretending to be in love isn't going to butter them up, Marinette. It's wasting time.”

“Are you on a time limit?” she repeated.

“No.”

“Then, we do this,” she said, stretching her arms out. “It gives us a break, too. My feet are killing me from all of that walking.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

“Another drink for the happy couple!”

Marinette accepted it gratefully, smiling widely.

Adrien swiftly took it from her hands. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“Are you?” she challenged.

He frowned. “I'm asking about you.”

“Shouldn't you know, my sweet husband-to-be?” she teased, leaning onto his shoulder as she stole the glass back.

She finished it in one gulp.

Adrien muttered, “I'm not carrying you back to our room.”

“You're so nice to me,” she replied, looking up at him with a smile. “Do you have an awful bald spot or something under there? It can't be that bad.”

His response was to pull the hood further over his face so it covered his eyes.

“Aw, now you're less pretty,” she complained, reaching up to poke his cheek. “How am I supposed to show off my betrothed when you look like this?”

Adrien pushed her hand away. “Don't show me off.”

She pouted. “You're no fun.”

“And you've had too much to drink already,” he said, eyeing the few glasses on the table in front of them. “How is this part of the plan?”

“Oh, not here!” Marinette quickly shushed him, making the motion of cutting her neck to get him to stop. “That's top secret, my love. We can't talk about that here.”

Someone whistled at her words. “Get a room!”

She gave Adrien a pointed look.

“Fine,” he grumbled, clearly not happy with the arrangement. “I do think we should have an early night—”

“Another drink!” Marinette exclaimed, jumping to her feet. “You wait right here, I'll get your favourite!”

“Marinette!”

She returned triumphantly with a drink in each hand.

He sighed.

She happily handed his over and took a sip of hers, making a noise as it burnt her throat.

Adrien flatly said, “This is water.”

She winked at him. “Your favourite.”

“You're—”

She leaned in to inform him, “They were free, be grateful. Put on a happy smile.”

Adrien's smile looked pained. “Why did I agree to this?”

Marinette patted his arm.

“Do you have a hangover?” he asked.

“No, I just hate mornings,” Marinette said, staring up at the ceiling.

It was different now. She wasn't sneaking through the home, trying not to wake up her stepmother for fear of being shouted at. There were no chores she needed to complete before the family was up.

Marinette was running on her own schedule now.

“Since we're doing this your way, are we searching around for them today?” Adrien questioned.

As with the other morning, he was wide awake with his cloak on. His face was dry and unwashed, and his hair was flattened from the hood, yet he still looked pretty with the awful clothing on.

Marinette shook her head.

He didn't try to argue.

“We should go around town and introduce ourselves,” Marinette proposed, sitting up with a grunt. “Hopefully we'll bump into some people from last night. That'll get the gossip about us going around more.”

Adrien pointed out, “We didn't do anything worth gossiping about.”

“Have you never lived in a small village?” she questioned. Without waiting for an answer, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her cheek on one. “A newcomer is enough to get people talking. And two young ones spending money before their wedding? We're a walking advertisement for good business for some.”

“You want to spend money,” he deduced.

She snorted. “I'll buy you some flowers.”

“I'd prefer food,” he said, getting up from the bed and stretching. His shirt was untucked and showed a slither of his stomach.

“Nice try,” Marinette replied, narrowing her eyes. “I'm buying you food only if I lose.”

He laughed. “I tried.”

“You can try again, loser, you won't catch me off-guard.”

“I can't believe my fiancée is so mean to me...” Adrien trailed off, touching his cheek as he let out a sad sigh. “What will the people think if they see you refuse to feed me?”

“You're on a diet.”

He gasped. “That's your excuse?”

“I can't stand in the way of a man's vanity,” she replied, putting a hand on her heart. “If it makes you happy, I'll support you fully, my love. I'll keep all of the food away from you.”

“You're annoying,” he muttered.

“A rose for the pretty lady!”

Adrien ignored the merchant until she nudged him gently with her elbow.

With a sigh, he passed over a coin in exchange for the flower.

“Here, are you happy now?” he whispered, passing it to her.

“Very.” Marinette beamed, fiddling with the rose stem before she reached up and placed it behind his ear. “This suits you.”

He was too shocked to answer.

“A pretty rose for a pretty man,” she teased.

His face promptly reddened.

She laughed loudly.

After a week, they approached the person from Adrien's list.

It was a woman that they'd interacted with a few times, but they hadn't learned her name. When they asked around for her, the woman was glad to see them.

“You've been buying flowers from my husband daily,” she said, happily shaking Adrien's hand. “It's always nice to see such a loving couple.”

Marinette tried not to look smug at that.

Adrien cleared his throat before giving Marinette a pointed look.

She gestured for him to continue.

After some hesitation, he did.

“Why do you want to know about that?” the woman asked.

Marinette forced out a giggle. “It's a bit embarrassing...”

“Oh, you have to tell me now!”

“You see... that fairy blessed my parents when I was a baby,” she started, letting out a wistful sigh as she leaned onto Adrien's shoulder. “A blessing of everlasting love!”

The woman was surprised. “I haven't heard of that before.”

“It was probably a lie, but I want the same for us,” Marinette revealed, glancing up at Adrien with a smile. “It's a silly dream of mine.”

Adrien could play the role somewhat well now.

He wrapped an arm around her, a half-hearted embrace that didn't look tentative from the outside. “It's not silly.”

“Oh, stop,” she said through a laugh, slapping his chest. “You're only saying that because you love me.”

“I think it's sweet,” the woman said sincerely. “I can't tell you much since I was only a teenager back then, but I'll try and recall what I can.”

Marinette beamed. “Really?”

“If you could give me a couple of days, I can visit my parents to get a refresher from them.”

“Absolutely!” Marinette replied without waiting for Adrien's input. She excitedly tapped his shoulder, sitting up straighter. “You'd really do that? We'd appreciate it so much!”

The woman winked at Adrien. “Buy your fiancée here the nicest bouquet tomorrow and it's a deal.”

Marinette wetted her lips. “Can I order an appetiser as well?”

“You may,” Adrien agreed, resting his chin in his hands as he looked at her from across the table. “And anything else you'd like.”

“Oh, you'll regret that.”

There were so many options.

Adrien had suggested that her victory meal could be at their next destination. In his words, it would look sweet for him to spoil his fiancée on their first night there.

Marinette was very smug that her plan had worked.

Although it wasn't much, it was confirmed that the fairy was a woman. She looked to be in her early twenties back then, had long hair that wasn't tucked behind her pointy ears, and was quite friendly while passing through.

No one had revealed that they'd received a blessing. The fairy had dined at a restaurant and stayed at the inn before leaving the very next day.

It was short and sweet.

As exciting as it was to receive news of any kind, Marinette had doubts that it was the same fairy. The chances were slim but—

She wanted to believe for a while.

“Eat slowly,” Adrien suggested.

Except it wasn't a suggestion to her. She slowed down, eating the soup slowly without slurping.

Adrien's table manners were impeccable.

“You're rich, aren't you?” she questioned.

He almost choked on his mouthful. “Excuse me?”

“It's your whole... you,” she lamely said, gesturing to him. “How you carry yourself? And your clothes look very expensive.”

He glanced down. “They do?”

“Yes.”

“Should I... change that?” Adrien asked, pulling his cloak forward so he could inspect his shirt. “Would that help me blend in better?”

“No, rich lover suits you,” Marinette told him. “It would be weird if we looked like street rats then we whipped out a load of money.”

“You've got pillow marks on your face,” Adrien said.

Marinette touched her cheek. “Any drool?”

“Not today,” he assured her.

She let out a breath of relief. “I'm somewhat presentable, then.”

“You should brush your hair first.”

“Or I'll wear a hood like you and never have to worry about it,” she grumbled.

“We want a blessing of true love,” Marinette recited, letting out a dreamy sigh. “If you could help us...”

This time, the person wasn't cooperative with the story.

She went to the next plan and took out coins from her pouch, sliding them across the table.

It was accepted without hesitation.

The fairy had red hair.

“The branches are sharp,” Adrien warned her, using his arm to move one aside to allow her to walk past. “Watch out so you don't get cut.”

They were getting closer.

The combination of not killing each other at night and actually being successful at getting information had had them loosening up. It helped that they played the role of lovers for a week at a time, laughing and joking with each other.

Adrien wasn't a good actor.

It was clear when he was uncomfortable and also when he was being sincere.

He was quite charming when he wanted to be.

“Can I ask you something?” she questioned.

“Go ahead,” he replied, stomping down on a plant so it wouldn't touch their ankles.

Marinette blurted, “Why were you being chased when we met?”

“I was running away from my family,” Adrien admitted quietly. “I didn't—I didn't know I was being followed when I got to your village.”

“You had... guards after you?”

“...Yes?”

It was clear he didn't want to talk about it more.

Marinette didn't push the subject. Adrien was mysterious in his way; he didn't open up about his past, she'd never seen him with the cloak off, and she still didn't know the reason he was hunting this fairy down.

She wondered whether he had a vendetta against her as well.

Marinette wasn't going to admit it first.

Chloé was the only one left that knew about her blessing and it was going to stay that way.

“I ran away from my home, too,” she confessed, swatting a plant away.

Adrien paused. “You did?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I... I really want to find this fairy.”

“That's why you decided to come along with me, a total stranger,” he agreed, starting to walk again. With a glance to see that she was following him, he asked, “Have I not put you off of this yet? It's not exactly glamorous.”

“I'll never get this chance again,” she whispered. “I won't have this freedom in the future—or even the money. If this fails, that's it for me.”

“Can I... can I ask why?” Adrien enquired softly.

“What's your reason?” she countered.

He sighed. “Good point.”

“We're on a trip before we get married,” Adrien explained with a wide smile, pulling Marinette against his chest. “When else will we get the chance to see the world?”

The lie was coming naturally now.

Marinette giggled to complete the act.

They were upgraded to a room with a double bed without them requesting one. The owner refused to accept any extra money when they offered it.

Marinette whistled at the room in appreciation. There was a vase with pretty dried flowers by the window and even a rug on the floor.

“Luxurious,” Adrien remarked.

She couldn't tell whether he was being sarcastic.

To her, it wasn't bad. The worst was being forced to sleep on the kitchen floor when Audrey had decided to be particularly awful that day. Marinette could count on her hand the number of times she'd been locked out of her room. It left a lasting impression every time.

It was different now.

Marinette didn't have to deliver food to anyone else; she hadn't had access to a kitchen since she'd left. Sleeping on the floor out of choice wasn't terrible when the blankets provided weren't thin and awful.

The important part was that she was choosing it for herself.

No stepmother was telling her that she was worthless.

On the other hand, there was no Chloé sneaking her out to feed her delicacies from the village. She'd traded off her best friend in exchange for her newfound freedom and that still made her stomach twist from guilt.

She wondered how Chloé was doing and whether Zoé had stopped running away from Audrey at every chance.

It had to be happier without her.

“Marinette?” Adrien called out.

She tried to smile. “Yes?”

“You're...” Adrien trailed off, touching his neck. “Never mind.”

Settling her bag in the corner, Marinette sat down and stretched her legs. Her toes were hurting from all the walking.

“What's wrong?” he questioned.

“My feet hurt,” she admitted, wiggling her toes with a wince. “Can we stay here a bit before we go for dinner? It's not that late.”

“You need shoes with better support,” he replied, looking at her feet critically. “And a newer pair wouldn't hurt. I can see that they're barely holding on from here.”

“I've had them for years,” Marinette admitted, undoing the laces a little to give her some breathing room. “I need a size up, to be honest.”

“...They're not the right size?” Adrien asked, bewildered. “That's—”

“Shoes are expensive,” she interjected. “I didn't have the money.”

“You do now,” he pointed out.

“And I need to keep it that way,” she stubbornly replied.

“A pair of shoes isn't going to make you poor,” Adrien countered. “Aren't you—aren't you in pain? We walked for hours.”

“I did say that, yeah.”

“I thought you were just being a baby about the distance!” he spluttered. “Are your toes okay?”

Her face felt hot.

It was natural for her to be lacking things. Marinette was used to having second-hand belongings at home. Audrey had drawn the line at passing down shoes since they were too big for her—meaning Marinette walked around clumsily in them—and had left her to wear the same pair.

Adrien was too well-dressed and rich to understand her. His reaction was proof of that.

“They will be in a bit,” she whispered.

“What size are you?”

Marinette tried to recall. “Uh...”

“Wait here,” he demanded, leaving the room without another word.

She watched the door shut in bewilderment.

It was obvious what he was doing, yet she didn't want to believe it. They barely knew each other; sure, they laughed and got along well the longer they spent together, but that didn't mean they were close enough for him to buy her things.

He came back with three pairs of boots.

They didn't look second-hand.

Marinette was speechless. “Adrien...”

“Try them on,” he said, sliding them over to her.

It was touching that he'd bought a pair at all. The three were different sizes with designs that changed slightly.

She did as she was told.

The second pair fit perfectly. Marinette wiggled her toes and pressed down by them to make sure there was enough room.

“I'd say walk around in them, but we'll test them out when we go for dinner,” Adrien said happily. “You can throw away your old pair now.”

“I could donate them,” she suggested.

He picked up the offending shoe. “I don't think anyone would want these.”

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “They're not that bad.”

“The sole's almost not attached at all,” he pointed out.

“That can be fixed,” she insisted. “I've done it before.”

“No, it's better for everyone that they get a peaceful death,” Adrien said, tossing the pair over his shoulder. They fell to the floor loudly. “A rich lover would buy you new shoes, yes? This is helping our image.”

Marinette huffed. “How much were they?”

“It doesn't matter,” he insisted, collecting the two pairs that didn't fit her to carefully line them up by the door. “I'll donate these tomorrow, though. Someone will want them.”

“What happened to not buying me anything?” she had to ask.

“It's a thank you.” Adrien gave her a sincere smile that caught her off-guard. “I wouldn't have gotten this far without you.”

“Oh,” she breathed.

He cleared his throat. “Don't expect this to happen again.”

That was more like that.

“Yeah, sure,” she agreed, smiling widely. “Don't forget to spoil me in front of the locals, all right?”

It wasn't always successful.

Some towns led them to dead ends.

After a week of spending money, conversing with locals and making a good impression, there was always the chance that the person they were looking for had passed away. The information could also not be up-to-date and they could've moved without informing anyone where they were going.

Although she was disappointed, it was to be expected. It wouldn't always end in them being successful.

The first time it happened, Adrien awkwardly patted her shoulder. “There's next time.”

She'd been too surprised to reply.

They were getting more comfortable touching each other now. Adrien wouldn't stiffen in surprise when she hugged his arm in front of people, and she'd learned not to be startled when he took her hand into his.

And when they weren't acting, they stood closer than before. Marinette didn't try to keep a safe distance from him any more.

If the inn offered a double bed, she had no complaints about sharing with him. Adrien was always up in the morning before her, usually reading a book or staring out of the window, waiting for her to awaken naturally.

They worked well together.

“I haven't spent so much time with anyone since school,” Adrien admitted one day, wiping the sweat from his brow.

The summer heat was getting worse. Adrien's upper lip was sweaty more often than not, though the sight of him wiping it was a pleasant one.

His looks were on his side when they introduced themselves. Marinette never thought a sweaty cloaked man could look so pretty.

“And how long ago was that?” she questioned.

Adrien gave her a knowing smile. “I'm eighteen.”

She was surprised. “You're telling me?”

“I've known you long enough now, I guess,” he replied with a shrug.

The personal details she knew about him were few; Adrien was eighteen and had attended school. She had no idea where he was from, his accent wasn't distinguishable, although his manners, clothes, and admittance that he'd come from a rich family meant that it had to be somewhere upper-class.

Her village didn't produce people like him.

“I'm seventeen,” she confessed in return, fiddling with her belt. “Until—”

He snapped his fingers. “I knew it, you're not old enough to drink!”

Marinette was startled. “What?”

“I won't let you have any more drinks,” Adrien announced, waggling a finger at her. “I can't believe you, Marinette. I thought you obeyed the law.”

“...I think you're making a big deal out of this.”

“It's okay, little one,” he said, patting her shoulder. “I'll protect you.”

“Little one? I'm supposed to be your fiancée,” she retorted, slapping his hand away. “You don't want to be seen as a controlling lover, do you?”

He made a thoughtful noise. “Do you think that character would help us?”

“No, it would make people feel sorry for me,” Marinette replied with confidence. “Maybe enough so that you'll be beaten up if I cry a little in front of them.”

He winced. “Okay, good point. That one's out.”

She smiled brightly. “I guess you have to let me have a little drink.”

“Marinette,” Adrien suddenly said, stopping her in her tracks to put both hands on her shoulders. Their height difference meant that she had to look up at him. “I have a brilliant idea.”

She squinted. “Do you?”

He beamed. “You're pregnant!”

Marinette was horrified. “Excuse me?”

“You won't be able to drink and we'll look like an even happier couple!” he proclaimed, smugness clear on his expression. “I'm a genius, it's okay to admit it.”

“I can't be pregnant!” she spluttered, touching her stomach. “I'm underweight!”

“That's reason to buy you lots of food,” he said.

Marinette argued, “I'm not showing! No one's going to believe me!”

“A big meal will help—”

“We want to find the fairy before our little one arrives,” Adrien said, gazing down at Marinette's stomach fondly. “I know, it's a silly dream—”

Marinette's face felt hot as she cradled her flat stomach. “I know we're not the first to want a blessing for our child.”

Adrien laughed. “And we won't be the last.”

“I just—I don't want them to grow up unhappy,” she stuttered out, staring down at her stomach. Her quick pulse was because she was embarrassed at this new dynamic Adrien had decided on. “Growing up as an orphan isn't a life I'd wish on anyone.”

A red-haired fairy had come through this town as well.

Back in their room, Adrien had a small map that he marked down the confirmed locations on. She wasn't sure if a pattern was starting to appear now or not.

Without looking up from his book, he remarked, “You were believable back there.”

Marinette snorted. “About the pregnancy?”

“No the whole... being an orphan thing,” he elaborated, clearing his throat. “I believed you.”

“Well, good,” she said lamely. “I am an orphan so—”

Adrien was aghast. “You're what?”

It didn't warrant that kind of reaction.

“Is that surprising?” Marinette questioned, furrowing her brow.

“I thought you—you'd maybe run away from your family?” he replied, wide-eyed as she had his full attention. “I never—you're seventeen! You're not old enough to drink, so why are you alone?”

“Because my parents died?” she supplied for him.

He whispered, “That's horrible.”

It wasn't the strangest reaction she'd had. While death was common in their little village, there had been a time when her dead mother had been whispered about when she was younger. It changed when everyone had grown up a bit and became more sensitive to the topic.

Her father's death left more of a sting than her mother's did now.

“Thanks?”

“I'm sorry,” Adrien offered, sounding so sincere that it surprised her. He was genuinely apologetic that he'd brought up the topic at all. And as he stood up to approach her, he went to touch her arm before taking his hand back. “That shouldn't have happened to you.”

“Well, it did,” she said for lack of a better response. “It's okay, Adrien. I'm not—I'm not going to cry over this.”

His expression was full of sympathy that she had to look away.

“I would,” he whispered.

“Glad to know your parents are alive,” she replied. “Are they still looking for you?”

“Most likely, yes,” he admitted, touching his neck and holding the hand there for a bit. “When we first met, I actually did get caught. I had to stay home for a while and pretend to be good before I ran away again.”

She let out a breath of amusement. “So, you're the runaway.”

“You are, too,” Adrien said. Immediately a look of panic overtook him as he asked, “Aren't you? Oh, I hope I'm not being insensitive again.”

Instead of being offended, she was fond of him. Adrien had a way with words sometimes—particularly when he was in the lover character of late—but he was still capable of fumbling and panicking when they were alone.

“I left the... people I was staying with, yes,” she replied. “I don't think they are looking for me. Another servant was probably hired instead.”

The wide-eyed look of surprise came back. “You were a servant?”

“Adrien, we met again with me working in a tavern,” she replied, placing a knee up to her chest to wrap her arms around and get comfortable. “I was working before that, too. I need the money.”

He glanced down at her shoes.

She smiled. “Exactly.”

“You're... too young,” he said slowly. “Did you go straight into working after school?”

“The teachers at home are only for young children,” Marinette revealed, feeling more comfortable admitting this fact. “It's not for teenagers. And I wasn't ever considered for a real school or even the academy.”

The only way to describe his expression was horrified.

She had to laugh. “Is that not what you imagined, rich boy?”

“I thought—” Adrien stuttered out, fiddling with his cloak on his lap. “I thought education was available for everyone?”

“Maybe at the bigger towns or cities,” Marinette mused. “My village didn't have a school. There were a few elders that helped to teach us to read and write.”

He swallowed. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Not everyone can attend a rich school—or better yet, a top-secret fairy academy,” she replied, resting her chin on top of her knee as she smiled. “What about you?”

Adrien averted his eyes. “I... went to school.”

“You've said that, yes,” she agreed. “What type was it?”

“...It was an actual school,” he admitted, sounding sad about it.

Marinette noted, “This is upsetting you.”

“I—” Adrien choked out, rubbing his eye with his hand. “It's fine. I'm not—I'm not upset.”

That was the biggest lie he'd told since they'd been together.

It didn't make sense, though. Through their travels, it was rare to see a school building where they were visiting. Maybe since it hadn't been their focus, Adrien hadn't taken in that information.

Was it something to be upset about?

Maybe to a rich person, that way of life wasn't one that he could imagine.

Marinette wasn't trying to look for sympathy from him. She didn't need someone to tell her that her life was unfair—she knew that well enough herself from her experiences.

If this was how he'd react to her backstory, she wasn't going to reveal any more.

“Well,” Marinette started, getting up to her feet. “I'm hungry. Let's get dinner, shall we?”

He looked confused.

With a smile, she placed her hands on her stomach. “I'm eating for two and I'm wasting away.”

“Oh, yes,” he recalled, remembering their scenario. “It's your last night being pregnant before we get out of here.”

She sniffed. “I'm having the baby so soon.”

Adrien let out a laugh that startled him so much that he put a hand over his mouth, looking embarrassed.

“Come on, lover,” Marinette said.

He followed after her.

Marinette raised her hand above her head, barely able to see it from the limited light coming in through the window. “Fairies are weird.”

It was an understatement.

She didn't understand them whatsoever.

Adrien snorted. “You're not asleep yet?”

“Not yet,” she said from her position on the floor. The blanket was wrapped around her comfortably and her pillow was of good quality. It was one of the best ones yet. “I'm just... I'm wondering whether we're going to find her.”

“We will,” he whispered. “I need to.”

She wasn't posing as a pregnant woman this time. It was their first story of lovers on a trip. They hadn't been upgraded to a double bed in this inn, so Adrien had taken the bed without any argument.

“Do you think there are still other beings?” Marinette asked, crossing her arms underneath her head. “I know it's said that there used to be more but... it sounds like a fairytale. I've only ever seen humans.”

“Ogres and elves exist,” Adrien said quietly.

“That's what the stories say,” she replied, turning to the side to face the bed where his silhouette was visible. “I was also told that if I put a tooth under my pillow, I'd wake up with money there instead.”

“...That's not how that works.”

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, feeling more awake than ever. “How am I supposed to believe ogres are real? If my tooth can't disappear overnight, then there's no hulking ogre that can squish me underneath their thumb.”

“They're very civilised,” Adrien whispered. “They wouldn't—”

She laughed. “I'm sure they are.”

“It's a terrible stereotype,” he insisted. “There are one or two bad ones like humans. It's the bad deeds that got passed around as hot gossip.”

His words reminded her of when she was little; settled into bed with her father telling her stories as she tried to stay up longer to finish them each time. The world that had been described to her sounded wonderful and more than the tiny village she was from.

Ogres, elves, fairies—

It would never happen in her small home.

Those less fortunate didn't get to dream about those things. Audrey could donate a hefty amount of money in the hopes of her daughter being accepted to a course at an exclusive academy, but that wouldn't get Zoé any closer to meeting a fairy.

“You really believe in them,” she remarked.

“Believe in them? Marinette, I've seen them,” he replied, sounding so confident that she couldn't interrupt him. “Their kind... they don't live with us any more.”

She humoured him. “Where do they live?”

“After the last war, they separated,” he explained without hesitation. “It's... their own country, I guess. Except you won't find it on any maps.”

Marinette wasn't taught about the war. All her tutors covered the important parts of history; who the king and queen were, the alliances their country had, and what would affect them in life. War wasn't important when she was washing dishes for a living.

“That sounds nice,” she whispered. “Unless they're in poverty?”

“No, the royal family of every country funds them,” he said.

It sounded like a dream.

And if that was what Adrien wanted to believe, who was she to tell him he was wrong? He could hold onto his dreams of ogres and elves.

“Do the fairies live there as well?”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“Well, why aren't we going there?” Marinette questioned, closing her eyes. “If that's their home, that's where we'll get our answers.”

“We can't get in without permission.” Adrien sighed. “You have to have a document with the royal seal. It's very strict, as you can imagine. Everyone would flock to it and try to get in otherwise.”

“So, they're living in peace away from us?” she concluded.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “With no one to pester them for their powers all of the time.”

Marinette breathed out audibly. “And we're... doing that.”

“Is that what you want?” Adrien asked softly. “Are you after a blessing?”

“No, I want it to be undone.”

There was a rustling noise. “You're—you want it undone?”

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dark again. From his blur of darkness, Adrien had sat up abruptly.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she blurted.

“No, I—” Adrien cut himself off with a breathy laugh. “I can't believe it.”

Was it a bad idea to say that?

Adrien had proven to be trustworthy thus far. Marinette could consider him a friend from their time together. With their quest being the same, she was taking a risk to reveal any details to him.

“I'm not talking about it,” she whispered, curling up into a ball on her side. “Please, don't ask me to.”

Adrien's voice was barely audible. “I have one, too.”

She almost didn't hear him. “Pardon?”

“I received a blessing,” he admitted shakily. “From—from the fairy we're tracking.”

She swallowed. “Me, too.”

“Wow, that's—” Adrien laughed, though it wasn't a happy sound. “I've never... I've never met anyone like me before.”

He wasn't doubting her.

His first question wasn't whether she was lying.

For as long as she'd been conscious of her blessing, she'd wondered what people's responses would be to her confession. It was a miracle to some people—so rare that it was considered a fairytale—yet she was faced with someone that was suffering like her.

She had to ask, “Are you trying to get rid of it?”

“Yes,” he said, letting out a giddy laugh. “I am.”

Her chest felt warm.

This was someone that could relate, surely. Adrien had run away from his privileged home to pursue this obscure fairy for the sole purpose of being returned to normal.

“I won't ask what it is,” Marinette whispered, clenching the blanket tightly in her hand to prove that she was awake.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You're... you're kind.”

She almost laughed at that. “So are you.”

“Must be why we're getting married, huh?” he joked.

Marinette snickered. “Yes.”

“Drink up, missy!”

Marinette downed the drink in one and almost choked when the very person that had bought it for her slapped her back.

“Take it easy, darling,” Adrien said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder to pull her into his chest. “We've still got the rest of the night ahead of us.”

That earned a few whistles.

His face became red.

“Cute,” she teased, smiling up at him. “Is your face gonna get redder if you drink more?”

“Maybe,” he replied, not pulling away from their close distance. “Technically, I'm the one here that can drink.”

His words were misinterpreted by someone at their table. “A lightweight is still a drinker!”

“Yeah!” Marinette chimed in with a laugh. “I'm pathetic, but I'll admit to it!”

“You're not pathetic,” Adrien said. “You're... small.”

She poked his side. “And you're a giant.”

“Giants don't exist,” he replied.

“A big ogre,” Marinette corrected, batting her eyelashes. “Are you gonna whisk me away somewhere private?”

There were more cheers at her words.

Her face felt hot.

Adrien laughed loudly.

“Shut up,” she complained, hiding her face in his chest. “I didn't mean it like that and you know it.”

“Oh, I'm sure,” he replied, patting the top of her head. “There, there. I accept you for your stupidity.”

Their display earned them rewards.

“Drinks for the young lovers!”

Marinette beamed up at him.

Adrien rolled his eyes and took the first drink, passing it to her.

She was surprised by his generosity before remembering that they were playing a happy couple. Of course he'd put her first in front of others.

“A flower for the pretty lady,” Adrien said, presenting her with a rose.

As she'd done with him back in the beginning, Adrien placed it behind her ear.

“It suits you,” he remarked.

“You're embarrassing,” she accused, smiling despite herself. And after doing a spin that made her skirt to fan out, she struck a pose. “Does it bring out my eyes?”

Adrien's smile showed dimples on his cheeks. “And your freckles.”

“There's no getting rid of them,” she said, touching her cheek. “Normally I don't get that much time out in the sun.”

“Because you were trapped at work?” he questioned.

“Inside, yes,” Marinette replied, linking their arms together as they started to walk down the street. “If I ran away with—uh, the daughter, I went into the village a lot then. Other than shopping, the majority of my chores were inside.”

Adrien asked, “Was the daughter close to your age?”

There was genuine interest in his voice. He was asking because he wanted to know.

It was more than the sun making her feel hot.

“She's a couple of months older than me,” Marinette admitted. “We—we were best friends.”

Adrien's smile didn't falter. “I'm glad you had a friend.”

“Chloé was great,” she said, bowing her head in greeting to a merchant that recognised them from the night before. “And I mean it. She was a giant bitch but we got along eventually. So much so that she'd stand up to her mother for me if anything went wrong.”

“Would you go back?” he asked. And before she could get a word in, he clarified, “If we—if we manage to find the fairy? Would you go back to that?”

There wasn't a plan from here on out.

With the money Chloé had given her, she had two choices for her life—pursue the fairy or live somewhere else. There was never a promise of coming back whether she was successful or not.

Maybe it wouldn't be the same.

Marinette could rent a room from someone else in the village instead of returning to Audrey's side. She could make a living somewhere—

There were so many bad memories, though. Her parents had died there and she didn't want to follow in their footsteps that way. Audrey had tainted any memories she had of her family home.

Chloé's love couldn't cancel everything else out.

She whispered, “I don't know.”

“I have to go back,” Adrien glumly said. “Where I was isn't—I can't leave. Not forever.”

Marinette recalled, “You said you didn't have a time limit.”

“I'm out here until I get caught—which, trust me, it will happen,” he informed her with a sigh. “Someday, I will be recognised and dragged back home. It's inevitable.”

“Is the cloak to delay that?” she questioned.

“No.”

She didn't press him for a real answer.

A town and a village were marked down as locations the fairy visited.

Adrien trusted her enough to show the map now, pointing out the different locations with reminders of what they'd done there.

He teased, “You were pregnant here, remember?”

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“You tripped and fell into a stream at this one—”

“You had too much to drink and vomited here,” she replied, leaning over him to tap at the map. “And then you glared at everyone that looked at you in the morning because you were so hungover.”

“The liquor there was very strong,” he agreed.

Seventeen years had passed, so there was no timeline to put together. It was rare enough to meet someone that could confirm the fairy had come through at all, so trying to get them to give a rough date was useless.

His map didn't tell them where the fairy would've gone.

“If only they really lived somewhere specific,” Marinette said wistfully. “This would be so much easier.”

Adrien muttered, “We can do it ourselves.”

“Can we, though?” she countered. “I don't think this is going anywhere—to be fair, I got so much further with you than I would've alone. Hell, I would've never left the tavern.”

He frowned. “We can't go and beg for a royal seal.”

“That's... not what I said,” she replied. “I'm just—it's wishful thinking, you know?”

He seemed hurt from her response. “Are you giving up already?”

“I'm still here, am I not?” Marinette pointed out. “At least, until I've run out of money. I guess I'll just stay in our last location and claim that you broke up with me when you leave.”

Adrien was horrified. “What?”

“I'm being realistic,” she said, tucking some hair behind her ear. “My funds aren't going to last forever.”

For a moment, he was speechless. Adrien visibly struggled with words—opening his mouth before closing it again—and in the end, he averted his gaze as he placed the map back in his book and tucked it away.

She felt bad.

“Adrien,” she said, sitting so close beside him that their knees were touching. “Thank you for bringing me along with you.”

He didn't look at her. “Why are you being like this?”

“I'm not leaving.” The yet didn't need to be said. “I'm—I never thanked you properly for bringing me along. You didn't have to.”

“Well, you did threaten me with a knife,” he said quietly.

“Adrien!” she exclaimed with a laugh. “I did not. You better not go around telling people that!”

He gave her a small smile. “Who would I tell?”

“No one while I'm around,” she retorted.

“You have to stick around to keep it that way, then,” he proposed, nudging her knee with his. “We're partners, remember? I can't have you leaving me halfway.”

They weren't anywhere near halfway. All they had was a physical description and the specific year that the fairy would've come through town.

Even with that description, it was unlikely that this fairy had a unique appearance compared to her peers. They could be directed to an entirely different one that wouldn't be able to break their blessings in the end.

The longer they searched, Marinette was more aware of how hopeless it was. A needle in a haystack seemed easier than this.

“Partners,” she repeated with a fond tone. “Yes, we are.”

“You bullied your way into it,” he teased.

“I think your image of me is very off,” Marinette remarked.

His smile reached his eyes. “No, I think it's just right.”

For once, they were in a city. Although there were locals, posh carriages were going through the roads, enough inns to accommodate all of the visitors, and the number of merchants and shops set up was overwhelming from a glance.

“I don't think our plan's going to work here,” she whispered.

Adrien gave her a bright smile. “It can't hurt to try.”

And how could she reject that?

He took her hand, buying a snack for both of them from a food cart before they made their way to the inn.

The first inn was sold out. At the second, they couldn't get a single bed, so they were set to share a double again. Marinette washed her face before they went back outside, linking their arms as they walked down the street.

There was music up ahead.

“It's a festival,” Adrien remarked.

She'd never seen anything like it before.

Musicians were playing by a large fountain, people were dancing in the middle, and the streets were more crowded than before. There were more food carts and stalls selling trinkets with the owners calling out to try and catch people's attention.

“There are so many people,” she whispered.

“It might be easier to eat here than trying to find a restaurant at this time,” Adrien mused. “What do you like the look of?”

To repay him for the snack earlier, she bought various different foods from the vendors. There was fresh fish, grilled meat that was cooked before their very eyes, and fruits that she'd never seen before.

Adrien described each of them to her so she could decide what she wanted.

And when he went back and bought something different from the vendor, he offered her the first bite of his.

Her cheeks hurt from smiling.

They spoke with whoever approached them, regardless of whether they were locals or not. Marinette befriended a young man that was visiting for the first time.

When the music slowed down, Adrien held his hand out to her and asked, “Marinette, can I have this dance?”

Marinette was wide-eyed.

He laughed at her expression. “Are you going to say no?”

“No...” Taking his hand hesitantly, she excused them from their current company. When they were out of earshot, she whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Dancing.” His smile was wide as he spun around to face her, lifting her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. “Other couples are doing it.”

That was a new action for their story.

There wasn't much time to dwell on her kissed knuckles, though. There was a bigger glaring problem as he guided her nearer the music.

Marinette felt panicked. “I don't know how to dance.”

His smile didn't falter. “You're in luck, I do.”

“I'm going to trip.”

Adrien gently placed one hand on her hip with the other still holding her hand. “I'll catch you.”

Her face felt hot. “This is a terrible idea.”

“I won't make you do anything crazy,” he assured her, dimples showing on his cheeks. “All you have to do is sway along with me to the music. Maybe move your feet a little, but don't get stompy.”

“That sounds difficult,” she blurted.

“You'll do fine,” he whispered, pulling her in closer. “Keep looking at me.”

Her heart was beating fast.

She'd never—

This hadn't happened before.

Adrien was close—enough for their chests to brush as he guided her movements with an encouraging smile—and she felt helpless. She was aware of his hand on her hip, the sound of his breathing that wasn't drowned out by the quiet music, and she was terrified that her hand was going to get sweaty.

His voice was soft. “You're blushing.”

“I want to die,” she hissed.

“Why? You look wonderful right now,” Adrien replied, guiding her to turn around.

She stumbled from the small movement.

“I apologise, I'll go slower,” he said immediately.

Her face was on fire.

It was true that they'd grown closer from their travels—but not like this. Marinette shouldn't have been pressed against his chest with her heart pounding.

He didn't look away from her.

“You're doing good,” he encouraged.

“You don't have to lie.” Marinette huffed. “Did that fancy school of yours teach you this as well?”

“It did,” he confirmed with his voice as soft as his expression. “I also learned from a young age for... events.”

“Events,” she repeated.

“It wasn't ever anything like this,” Adrien replied, squeezing her hand. “This is much preferable.”

She flatly said, “I can't dance.”

“I could... teach you?” It came out sounding like a question. “To dance.”

“I might be a slow learner,” she muttered.

“We have a lot of time,” he responded with a laugh. “I could teach you a few moves when we're in our room.”

Marinette stumbled.

He blurted, “I did not mean it like that.”

She laughed loudly.

Adrien's face was red beneath his cloak.

“I'd appreciate it,” she told him, glancing down at her feet to make sure that she was stepping on him. “I feel like a walking disaster right now.”

“You don't look it,” he said quietly.

Marinette beamed. “Thank you, lover.”

He cleared his throat. “You don't have to thank me for telling the truth.”

With no idea how to respond to that, Marinette smiled up at him instead.

Adrien returned it, swaying with her calmly to the music. A lot of the other couples were doing more complicated moves—one woman was even being spun around—but they weren't attempting anything that fancy. Being close to him like this was enough.

His hand was soft, his expression was gentle, and this entire experience was shiny and new.

“You're getting better,” he remarked.

She didn't believe him. “Am I?”

He hummed. “You haven't stepped on my toes for... at least a minute.”

“Oh, leave me alone,” she complained, making a point to stomp on his foot. “I'm not a fancy rich boy like you. I'm trying my best.”

Adrien let out an exaggerated gasp. “And I'm trying to sweep you off your feet with this romantic dance.”

“Dip me and I will kick you,” she threatened.

He snorted. “I believe you.”

“Good,” she said.

The music came to an end with their chests touching. Marinette's heart wasn't racing because of a workout; rather, it was a bit of a nervous feeling as she looked up at him.

Adrien's smile reached his eyes.

He was really pretty.

“Good job,” he said, not taking a step back.

His hand was still in hers and on her hip. The next song was more lively—very unfitting for their abysmal dance moves—yet neither of them moved.

She glanced at his lips.

Adrien wetted them slowly.

Then, he straightened up, removing his hands from her as he took a step back.

“Should we get a drink?” he proposed.

Marinette's face softened. “Yeah.”

He offered his arm out to her.

She took it without hesitation.

“Adrien!” she called out, bumping into his back as she made sure his hood was on properly. “Maybe keep your hand on it? It's very windy today.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“Or we can buy you a hat to wear on top,” she remarked. “It won't look very good, but it might work.”

“Would you be known as the lady dating the weird guy?” he asked.

“Oh, you sweet boy,” Marinette said, patting his arm. “I'm with you for your money, of course.”

He threw his head back and laughed.

“Do you have any siblings, by any chance?” she questioned. “I promised to be on the lookout for potential rich spouses for Chloé.”

He was still recovering from his laughter. “Excuse me?”

“The older the better,” she continued. “In fact, what about an older uncle? And I mean old.”

“...Should I be worried?” he questioned.

“I won't let her get her hands on you,” Marinette assured him with a wink. “You're mine, after all.”

His face reddened from her remark.

She felt giddy.

His voice cracked. “I am?”

She leaned onto his shoulder. “Counting down the days until our wedding, remember?”

“I—yes, you're right,” he stuttered out, touching his red cheek. “You're correct.”

Her chest felt warm.

The person Adrien had the name of had moved away years ago. There wasn't any information to be had from the locals either; all that came were recommendations to pursue academy students and to visit the capital.

“We can't go to either of those,” Adrien grumbled.

She made an inquisitive noise.

“I'll be recognised on the spot,” he explained, tugging the hood over his eyes. It's what he did when he was feeling petulant. “And then this will be all over for us.”

“You are rather memorable,” she agreed.

“That's not—” Adrien stuttered out, embarrassed. “That's not what I meant.”

“Why else would people remember you?” she countered. “Your stunning good looks outweigh your personality.”

“People remember me because I'm likeable.”

She nodded. “Your face is.”

“You're a menace,” he accused without any heat.

Marinette beamed.

“Regardless of why, it's not a good idea to go there,” Adrien insisted. “We can continue searching—”

“And get nowhere,” she finished for him.

He glared.

“I don't mind,” she confessed, tucking some hair behind her ear. “It's... nice. This is nice.”

“Nice,” he repeated.

“You're fun to be around,” Marinette said, smile reaching her eyes. “And you still have to teach me to dance, remember? Maybe we'll see a musician on our next stop.”

He swallowed. “I could teach you without.”

“Isn't that hard?” she questioned.

“Not everyone has the privilege of a live musician to learn to dance to,” he pointed out. “At the academy, there wasn't always one—”

“Academy?” Marinette questioned.

His expression turned to one of panic.

That answered it for her.

“That was your fancy school!” she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. “Why didn't you just say so? You were so secretive about it.”

Adrien averted his eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“There's nothing to apologise for,” she said.

“I didn't—it was dumb,” he replied, touching the back of his neck. “I shouldn't have been like that.”

“Well, we barely knew each other,” Marinette responded, giving his arm a nudge. “We're friends enough to unlock that information now.”

He gave her a tentative smile.

Then, a thought occurred to her.

“You're eighteen,” she said, squinting at him. And when he nodded to confirm that, she asked, “Luka's the same age.”

His face was blank.

“You know, the guy from the tavern?” Marinette explained, vaguely gesturing with her hand. “Where we met again? Him.”

He made a noise of recognition. “Oh, the academy student.”

“He didn't know you.”

“We weren't in the same classes,” Adrien responded. “With so many students, the years are... split into a few different groups. There's not a lot of mingling.”

She accepted the answer. “That makes sense.”

He smiled.

Marinette sat up abruptly. “Adrien!”

He groaned. “What is it?”

It was too dark to see him.

“Why didn't you ask about the fairy at school?” she demanded. “You've already been there!”

There was a beat of silence.

She sighed. “Did you fall asleep?”

“I... didn't know I had a blessing back then,” he revealed in a whisper.

“Oh,” she breathed.

“Can we go back to sleep now?” Adrien complained. “I was almost there.”

She felt guilty. “Sorry for waking you up.”

Someone tried to steal her pouch.

Marinette ran after them, jumping on their back so they stumbled before she held her knife up to their throat.

Victorious, she turned around with a wide smile to face Adrien. “I got it back!”

He was wide-eyed with his mouth open.

“What?” she asked.

“You... got it back,” he said slowly.

Marinette beamed. “I did!”

He was having trouble talking. “You're... holding a knife.”

“Oh, right,” she said, leaning down to tuck it into her boot again.

He was gawking at her again. “I thought you hid it under your skirt?”

She laughed. “I have two.”

“Two?”

“I still haven't seen your one,” she mused, closing the distance between them to link their arms together. “Unless you're lying to me...”

“I really do have one,” Adrien assured her, sounding a bit breathless. “I just—I wouldn't ever react as you did.”

She looked at him fondly. “Have you never been robbed before?”

His eyes were wide. “No, I have not.”

“You're cute,” she said.

“You're cuter,” he whispered.

“What was that?” Marinette questioned, smiling widely. “I couldn't quite hear you.”

He pulled his hood further down, trying to hide his blush.

She couldn't describe her feelings.

Although there was no music, Adrien proposed that they should dance in their room.

It was raining outside; the weather had been miserable all day and they'd already bought lunch to interact with people earlier on. His suggestion of having a night in together sounded wonderful.

They'd bought a few snacks, asking for food to be delivered to their room later on.

His cloak was damp.

Despite that, she took his hand and moved in close, aware of her every breath as he counted aloud to a certain number repetitively.

She stepped on his foot at first.

He wasn't mad.

Adrien gave her an encouraging smile—one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle and her heart skip a beat—and started from the beginning guiding her gently.

“I'm not good at this,” she muttered.

“Nonsense, you're doing fine,” he assured her. “Once you've got these few steps down, you'll be fine.”

“Fine at a ball that'll only do one dance,” she mused.

“Would you—do you want to go to a ball?” Adrien questioned.

“Gosh, no,” Marinette blurted. “That sounds like a nightmare. I'd probably offend a guest by accident and get fired within the first hour.”

He said quietly, “I meant as a guest, not as a servant.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

Adrien didn't look away from her eyes. “Would you?”

“That would never happen,” she replied. “I'm not—I can't even think about it.”

He swallowed audibly. “I could bring you.”

She raised her eyebrows. “With your cloak on?”

Adrien struggled for words before he came out with, “I could... take it off.”

“You like it on,” she said, raising the hand that was on his arm to touch the top of his hood. “And I'm quite fond of how you look in it—how you smell on a hot day is a different matter.”

He laughed. “I wash twice a day.”

She was still able to keep up with his dance steps. “A clean man is an attractive man.”

Adrien's smile was wide. “Do you think I'm attractive?”

“What did I just say?”

He let out a laugh. “Wow.”

“Wow?” Marinette repeated. “Is that really the right reaction?”

“I happen to think you're quite attractive, too,” he replied, adjusting his grip on her waist and leaning in so they were chest-to-chest.

She didn't falter in her steps. “Because I'm clean?”

“That's one part, yes,” he agreed, dimples showing on his cheeks. “It helps that you could run after me and put a knife to my throat.”

Marinette snorted. “I didn't realise you were into that.”

“Well, now you do,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“I do,” she agreed.

They were smiling widely at each other, dancing on the spot repeating the same few steps that had gone on for far too long. Adrien hadn't upped the difficulty, though she couldn't complain about the lack of distance between them.

He took the words from her mouth. “I want to kiss you.”

Marinette asked, “Why?”

“Why?” Adrien repeated, letting out a bewildered laugh. “I—I say I want to kiss you and you say that?”

“It's a valid question,” she defended, feeling her face heat up. “Are you just getting carried away because I haven't broken your toes?”

“Marinette, I like you,” he confessed.

“...Is it because I'm not awful at dancing now?”

“Shut up,” he fondly told her.

She pressed her lips together.

“I've felt like this for a while,” he said as their dance lulled to a slow top. With his hand still holding hers while his other was on her hip, he admitted, “I didn't know how or when to tell you. And this—this felt like a good idea? I'm not trying to overwhelm you.”

She stared.

“Say something,” he whispered.

Able to open her mouth again, Marinette confessed, “I like you, too.”

He sounded breathless. “You do?”

“Yes,” she confirmed, intertwining their fingers on the hand that was holding hers. “You're—you're really nice.”

“Nice,” he repeated in a whisper. “And that's—that's enough for you?”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Adrien quietly said, “You don't know anything about me.”

“I do know you,” Marinette replied without hesitation, lifting his hand to hold it with both of hers gently. “You're dumb and I like that.”

He choked out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“You're funny,” she said. “And since we became... friends? You've been giving me the better pillow to sleep on the floor with. Don't think I haven't noticed that.”

He gave her a shy smile.

“You're a dumb rich kid but you're not mean about it,” Marinette continued. “I'll help you out with what you need to know.”

He mumbled, “You keep calling me dumb.”

“It's your main selling point,” she assured him, lifting his hand up to kiss his knuckles.

He spluttered, “Marinette—”

She beamed. “You did that to me before.”

He retracted his hand to touch his blushing cheek. “This is a mixture of compliments and bullying.”

“I like you,” she said.

His mouth wobbled from where he was trying not to smile. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” Marinette confirmed, rocking on her heels.

“Tell me the truth.”

She already knew what she'd say.

“I like you,” she repeated, laughing at his surprised expression. “Is it so hard to believe?”

“I'm...” Adrien trailed off, pulling the hood down so it covered his eyes. “It is.”

She was so fond of him.

“Well, I'll get you to believe me,” Marinette announced, taking a step forward to close the distance between them. He was still holding onto his hood in an attempt to avoid her gaze. “I'll tell you what my blessing is.”

The hand dropped down to his side as he snapped his head up to look at her. “Pardon?”

“I'll tell you,” she repeated, putting a hand on her chest. “I trust you, Adrien.”

“But we—we agreed not to,” he stuttered out.

“And I changed my mind,” she replied. “I want you to know because I like you.”

He looked panicked.

“Sit down with me?” she suggested.

By the time they sat down on the bed together, Adrien was still wide-eyed and surprised by the development. Marinette crossed her legs and faced him, taking in a deep breath as she tried to figure out how she'd say it.

He stayed silent.

Eventually, she came out with, “I didn't tell Chloé.”

Adrien blinked.

“She's the only one that knows,” she explained, putting her hands on her knees. “When we first started living together, we... we didn't get along at all. Chloé would tell me to do awful things and I'd have to do them.”

Adrien recalled, “You were her servant.”

She didn't correct him. Adrien didn't need to know of her family dynamic and she didn't want to relive all of the abuse Audrey had hurled at her.

It was better this way.

Chloé's teenage temper paled in comparison.

“When she was really spiteful one day, she... she realised that something wasn't right,” Marinette elaborated, tapping her knee nervously. “And since then, we became friends.”

“That's nice,” he said softly. “You've never said anything bad about her, so it's hard to imagine.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Her smile didn't reach her eyes. “From what my parents told me, the fairy—she was passing through and came into our town. We offered her a place to stay and in return, she blessed me.”

Adrien was intrigued. “She stayed with you?”

“It was only for one night.”

He latched onto that, suddenly forgetting all about the point of their conversation.“No one else has said that they'd offered her a room! Maybe that's why we're getting nowhere. With this, we can—”

“Our only inn at the time had burnt down, so there was nowhere else for travellers to stay,” Marinette said.

“Oh.” His shoulders sagged. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted you.”

“It's okay,” she whispered, fidgeting.

Adrien gently placed his hand on her thigh. “What happened?”

“She...” Marinette's hands shook as she looked down at them to avoid his gaze. “It wasn't a good night. I was—I was a baby. I screamed and cried all through the night.”

He didn't say anything.

She swallowed. “I was blessed with—with obedience.”

“What—what do you mean?” Adrien questioned.

“If I'm told to do something, I'm—I have to do it,” Marinette stuttered out, refusing to look at his face. “I have no choice.”

“That's terrible,” he whispered.

She let out a laugh. “That's an understatement.”

“You have to do it?” Adrien questioned, taking her hand in his. It didn't stop her shaking. “There's nothing you can do to stop it?”

“I have no choice,” she repeated.

He let out an audible breath. “How does it work? Does someone have to say your name?”

“No, the name isn't important,” Marinette replied. “It has to be phrased like a command and directed at me.”

Adrien's voice shook. “Have I—have I done that to you?”

“Everyone has,” she replied with a wet-sounding laugh. “Everyone.”

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered.

“It's not your fault,” she assured him. “It's that fairy's for being so mad at a crying baby that she did this to me.”

“You're wonderful,” Adrien said, giving her hand a squeeze. “Obedience isn't what makes you you. Marinette, you're—”

She glanced up with a smile. “A victim, like you.”

He made a strangled noise.

“Adrien?” she questioned.

“Mine is nothing compared to yours,” he whispered, blinking to try and get rid of the glassy look in her eyes. “I shouldn't—I'm making too big of a deal when I got out of this lightly. I'm not suffering like you.”

It lit a fire in her chest.

To her, it didn't matter that they had different blessings. Adrien was someone that could understand fully, enough so that he'd run away from his old life in an attempt to have it removed. He'd left behind his family and friends for this.

“It doesn't matter,” Marinette told him with confidence. “It's against your will and that isn't any way to live.”

Adrien closed his eyes. “It's nothing.”

That was a new way of avoiding her gaze.

“Adrien,” she murmured, reaching out to gently place her hand on his cheek. “Look at me.”

He didn't. “Would that be a command for you?”

“It would,” she confirmed.

“I'll watch my words,” he vowed with his voice full of regret. “I'll never control you.”

There was a lump in her throat.

“Please, look at me,” she all but begged.

Adrien opened his eyes slowly.

“You don't have to tell me,” she whispered. “It hurts you and that's enough for me. We don't need to rank them.”

He swallowed audibly.

“I told you because now you know that I'm not lying,” Marinette said, trying to lighten the mood. “If you... trigger the blessing, I have to be honest.”

“I'm not using that on you,” he blurted.

Her smile reached her eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” Adrien confirmed, looking into her eyes. “You can lie to me all you want.”

She laughed.

He leaned into the touch of her hand on his cheek, putting his hand on top of hers before he pressed a kiss to her palm. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Keep seducing me and you might unlock more of my backstory,” she teased.

He smiled. “I look forward to it.”

“Lady with the sun hat! Yes, you there! Come and browse our store!”

Marinette started to walk towards the stall.

Since they were holding hands, Adrien was tugged along after her. He yelped in surprise and questioned, “Marinette?”

“Tell me to do the opposite,” she said quietly.

“Uh, don't go to that store?”

“That's a question,” she hissed.

“Don't listen to him,” Adrien tried.

She turned on the spot and gave him a thumbs up.

His smile was triumphant. “Okay, that's how that works. I've got this.”

The first time they kissed, it was on her birthday.

“You're eighteen now?” he questioned, jumping up to his feet. “Why didn't you tell me? I don't know if there's anything special for us to do here—”

“Being with you is enough.”

With their new relationship, her confidence was soaring. There was no embarrassment whatsoever when she said cheesy lines because his reaction was so wonderful.

Adrien cleared his throat, clearly lost on what to say, and there was always the chance of his ears turning red.

To be fair, it happened to her in return when he said such things back. Marinette didn't shy away from being flustered around him, though; it was sweet, shiny, and new. The summer heat couldn't damper her mood.

He bought her a flower and put it in her hair again.

Marinette did a little twirl so her dress flared out. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” he replied, fondness apparent in his voice.

She felt giddy.

They ended up near a lake and wandered close enough to dip their feet in in an attempt to combat the heat. Adrien used the sleeve of his cloak to wipe at his face—which still looked very nice when he was sweaty—and then used the same sleeve to try and fan himself.

Marinette questioned, “Would anyone recognise your body?”

He made an unintelligible noise.

“You could cut it off and wear it around your shoulders, so the hood would stay on,” she proposed. “That would be cooler, right?”

Adrien sighed. “I'd feel bad.”

“About what?”

“My mother got me this,” he revealed.

“It's covered in dirt and smells quite bad,” she bluntly said.

He winced. “I do try and wash it a bit while you're asleep...”

“If you're that worried about being seen, I could step out for a while,” Marinette offered. “I could go into town and get something to eat? I'd find something to do.”

He frowned. “You'd go without me?”

“I'm giving you precious cleaning time!”

He mumbled, “I guess...”

“Hey, you big baby,” Marinette teased, leaning in to rest against his shoulder. “I don't mind you being a bit stinky. We all are.”

“The heat is killing me.”

“At least you're not getting a tan,” she mused, holding out one of her arms to inspect the redness from spending yesterday in the sun. “This is going to look very odd when it settles down.”

“You're always odd, it suits you,” he replied.

She laughed. “Is that a compliment?”

“Definitely.”

“Well, thank you, strange man,” Marinette said, looking up at him fondly. “I think you're pretty odd, too.”

“I'm odd, am I?” he questioned.

“The oddest,” she replied, laughing.

Adrien was looking at her with such a soft expression. It was solely for her; he didn't look like that when they were talking to anyone else. While he was polite and kind—no matter how suspicious he looked—he melted and acted gooey with her.

Marinette was the one to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

He inhaled sharply. “Do you... want to?”

“Yes, that's why I asked,” she replied, amused.

“I thought...” Adrien trailed off, clearing his throat. “Never mind.”

“What did you think?” she said, moving her feet and almost splashing the both of them with lake water. “That I don't want you?”

“A little, yes,” he admitted with an embarrassed smile. “Because I—when I asked you before, we just... dropped the subject.”

She grimaced. “I forgot.”

“You forgot?” he questioned incredulously. “That's good for my ego—”

“It was a very emotional day!” she exclaimed, trying to defend herself while smiling widely. “I didn't know whether we were there yet, okay? And I want to be!”

“Well, I want to be, too,” he said.

“Good.”

“Good,” he agreed with a nod.

She swallowed. “I'm going to kiss you now.”

“Please do,” he encouraged.

Marinette couldn't help but laugh. “I can't if you keep looking at me!”

“Are my good looks distracting you?” he teased. And when she only glared at him, Adrien obediently closed his eyes. “I'll keep them shut for you because you're so cute.”

“I'll hurt you,” she threatened.

“By kissing me too hard?” he questioned.

Marinette snorted.

Adrien smiled widely before trying to school his expression, patiently waiting for her to advance.

She wasn't nervous.

Adrien was warm and comfortable—that was the best way to describe what he was to her. After months together travelling around the country, she was at ease around him. There wasn't a nervous twisting in her stomach and her palms were sweating because of the weather.

Marinette put a hand on his arm, almost laughing aloud when he jumped in surprise.

“Don't make fun of me,” he complained. Before she could reply to that, he exclaimed, “Actually, do! Do make fun of me, do what you want! I'm not controlling you at all.”

That was what sealed the deal for her.

Marinette leaned forward until their noses were brushing and gently pressed her lips to his.

He stiffened before relaxing against her in a matter of seconds, kissing her back with enthusiasm. It was clumsy from both of them being far too keen, yet she wasn't embarrassed about it in the slightest.

Marinette wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him in closer, kissing him with passion.

Adrien's hands went to her hips.

It wasn't like when they were dancing. He was holding her close in a different way. They weren't moving to his count to non-existent music. The only sound that mattered was their breaths.

And when they parted, he rested his forehead against hers.

Marinette looked into his eyes without saying a word, feeling warm and wonderful.

Adrien's smile was breath-taking.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered.

She beamed. “Thank you.”

He kissed her again.

Their displays of affection were getting braver now.

While they'd been acting as an engaged couple before, there hadn't been a lot of skin-ship. At the time, she'd thought it was a lot, but it paled in comparison now that they were always all over each other.

They nudged their feet under the table, held hands on the table while waiting for their food to arrive, and kept stealing glances at each other. Marinette had blushed the first time she caught him staring at her, only to do the same to him and feel the thrill of his smile blossoming when he noticed her.

Marinette was enamoured.

They bickered, of course. That was one of the best parts of their relationship—Adrien told her she was dumb in the same breath that he confessed his feelings. It was his honesty that she liked.

And how he reacted any time he accidentally triggered her blessing was what made her heart soar. He was so apologetic and sincere, pulling her close to whisper into her ear that he'd never do it again.

It was different from Chloé.

Regardless of whether they were able to get a double bed, they slept together. Marinette's second pillow was placed neatly next to his on the mattress and they looked at each other giddily before extinguishing the flame of the lamp.

She wanted the days to last forever.

Alas, she had to admit, “My money's getting low.”

Adrien kissed her cheek. “I'll pay for you.”

“But—”

“I'm your rich lover, for real this time,” he interrupted, sounding so proud that she couldn't argue with him. “Please, will you let me do this? I want to.”

She pouted.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips. “You're so cute.”

How could she say no?

“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, “but I'm not happy about it.”

“No, you're ecstatic,” he teased.

With more locations marked down as somewhere the fairy visited, they were no closer to finding the answer they were searching for.

Marinette wasn't upset, though. Adrien rarely left her side and was there to counter any commands that came her way. He kissed her sweetly and assured her that she was safe with him.

She absolutely felt it.

As it turned out, he felt the knife underneath her skirt one day and burst out laughing. “Oh, you really weren't kidding.”

Marinette punched his arm lightly. “Don't ruin the mood.”

“Yes, yes, I apologise,” he said through his laughter, brushing his nose against hers before kissing her.

Adrien avoided the knife after that.

“I have a confession to make.”

Marinette had been on the verge of sleep, so she replied with a garbled noise as she blinked to wake up.

“I'm not sure how to say this...” Adrien trailed off.

It was too dark to see. Their legs were tangled up underneath the duvet and his arm was thrown over her waist.

“You have to say it now?” Marinette questioned, a bit grumpy. “This better be good.”

“I'm a prince,” he blurted.

She snuggled into her pillow. “Cool.”

“Marinette, I'm serious,” he said.

“That's nice,” she replied sleepily.

“Please,” he all but begged. “I'm being serious. I just—I never dared to tell you before now.”

She shifted to get comfy, getting closer until her forehead was against his chest. “You had a strange dream.”

“Marinette,” he complained.

She hugged him with a smile. “Yes?”

“I'm the heir to the throne,” Adrien whispered. “That's—that's why I have to return. And why I've got so many people looking for me.”

She hummed.

“I'm serious,” he repeated.

Marinette kept breathing and dozed off.

When they went downstairs in the inn for breakfast the next morning, Adrien leaned across the table and whispered, “I'm a prince.”

Marinette touched her chin and made a thoughtful noise. “That happened last night?”

“Yes!”

“What a weird time to have a breakdown,” she mused.

“I'm serious!” he exclaimed, rubbing a hand over his face. It made red marks appear on his cheek from how rough he'd been. “I don't know how to get you to believe me.”

“It's a bit far-fetched,” she pointed out.

“How else do you think I—we shouldn't talk about this here,” he said, whispering at the end as he glanced around the room. “We'll finish this later.”

She saluted at him.

He didn't forget it.

After a day of getting to know the locals where Adrien purchased her a matching bracelet for each of them, he held her hand and suggested a walk near the fields to watch the sunset.

Marinette agreed without hesitation, returning to the inn to pick up a jacket before they trekked outside. The sky was pretty and red, though it paled in comparison to Adrien's smile.

He kissed her hand again.

“You like doing that,” she remarked.

“It's how I was brought up,” he explained, giving her a shy smile.

She tilted her head. “To... kiss people's hands?”

“No, to appreciate the person I love,” he corrected softly.

Marinette beamed. “You love me?”

“That's why I told you about my life,” Adrien answered, leading her over to a stone wall that separated a field from the rough road.

She didn't know how to reply to that.

They sat down on top of the wall close enough for their knees to touch. Marinette leaned into him, feeling warm and comfortable as he wrapped his arm around her.

Adrien wetted his lips. “Surely, you've heard the prince's name before.”

“Uh, it didn't really interest me?” Marinette admitted with a nervous laugh. “It was never... important? When gossip trickled down to us, everyone called him what he is, you know?”

“I'm the prince,” he said again.

She raised her eyebrows.

“I know what you're thinking,” he started, sitting up straight. “And I did try and request for one. My mother said no.”

Marinette smiled. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“My parents won't allow me to get a pass to visit the fairies,” he elaborated.

She snapped her fingers. “For their secret country?”

He relaxed. “Yes, exactly.”

She'd forgotten he believed in that.

It was a very elaborate story to bring up out of the blue, though. Adrien gained nothing from claiming to be of that status after months together. If he wanted to have authority over her because of his birth, he would've done it from the beginning.

She believed him more about that than the separate country that no one had ever heard of.

“So, you're a prince,” she started slowly.

His expression brightened up. “Yes!”

“You're... the crown prince.”

“To be fair, I'm an only child,” he mused. “And my cousin has no interest in the throne.”

It was a lot to take in.

Marinette fiddled with his cloak. “The queen bought you this?”

Adrien beamed. “Exactly!”

She took a deep breath.

He was looking at her with an expectant expression.

She blurted, “Is this you breaking up with me?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you're a prince, you can't—this isn't going to work out,” she explained, gesturing between them. “We're—”

His eyes welled up with tears. “Do you not want me?”

She panicked at the sight. “What? No, that's not what I was saying!”

“Why are you bringing this up?” Adrien choked out, hastily swiping at his eyes to try and keep the tears back. It made one run down his cheek. “I told you I love you.”

Marinette's throat felt tight. “But I'm—”

“You're what?” he questioned with a hiccup.

He was an ugly crier.

Adrien started to sob, trying to pull the hood over his eyes to hide the wetness there.

Marinette took a handkerchief that he'd bought her before out of her pocket, offering it to him.

He blew his nose wetly.

“I love you, too,” she reminded him softly, rubbing his back. “We haven't even—we've never really talked about the future. What happens when you get found? I'm not going to be dragged along with you.”

He sniffed. “I'll demand that they bring you.”

“I'm not—”

“I love you,” Adrien choked out.

She felt awful as more tears trailed down his cheeks. In all of their time together, she'd never seen him cry. Adrien had looked misty-eyed a few times, but this was on a different level. His face was blotchy, his nose was red from blowing it, and he couldn't finish a single sentence without gasping.

“Okay, I'll go with you,” she said.

Adrien's lower lip wobbled as he looked at her again.

“I will,” Marinette assured him, touching his cheek as she wiped one of his stray tears. “Wherever you go, I'll be with you.”

He sniffed. “Really?”

“Really,” she said, smile reaching her eyes.

The tears started again.

Marinette panicked. “What did I say wrong?”

“They're happy tears,” he hiccuped.

Adrien bought her a new handkerchief.

“I washed the old one,” she said, accepting it regardless. It was of higher quality than the last and there was a delicate picture embroidered into it. “But thank you, Adrien. I appreciate it.”

His face was red. “I'm sorry.”

“For having emotions?” she questioned.

“I... overreacted,” he said, touching the back of his neck nervously. It was another tell of his, though she much preferred it to him pulling the hood over his eyes. This way she could see his pretty face. “I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions.”

“It's okay, I made a dumb assumption as well,” Marinette replied. “Besides, I found out something wonderful from it.”

He was sceptical. “You did?”

She beamed. “You look ugly when you cry.”

“Pardon?” Adrien spluttered.

She laughed loudly.

There was a rope swing tied onto a sturdy tree branch near the fields of the next village. Marinette saw it on their way in and excitedly pointed it out.

Adrien took her there the next day with food and a blanket to put down on the grass to make an event of it.

He spread the blanket out neatly, then turned to her and bowed. “For you, my lady.”

She laughed. “Thank you, kind sir.”

It was a nice day.

She pushed the sleeves of her shirt down so her shoulders were exposed.

Adrien wasn't embarrassed when he got caught staring. “You have freckles on your shoulders.”

She looked. “Oh, you're right.”

“They're cute,” he murmured.

Marinette smiled. “You think everything about me is cute.”

“And I'm correct,” he replied, puffing his chest out proudly.

She punched his arm lightly. “You're silly.”

Adrien batted his eyelashes. “I'm silly for you.”

They relaxed on the blanket, lazily kissing and holding hands until her stomach rumbled. The food he'd purchased included all of her favourites instead of hers, so she insisted on choosing what they had next time.

He hummed. “You can try.”

“I'll fight you for it,” she threatened.

“Oh, I don't doubt it,” Adrien said, fanning his face with his hand. “You're getting me all hot and bothered just thinking about it.”

“Adrien!”

He beamed. “What? Honesty is good.”

She ate until she was pleasantly full.

Marinette put a hand over her stomach when she flopped back on the blanket in contentment. “I was never able to eat this much before.”

“Meals are important,” he replied, turning on his side to prop his head up on his hand. “That's how you grow up big and strong.”

“I'm already strong,” she said, flexing an arm.

He laughed.

“I never got to eat this regularly before,” Marinette admitted. “Sometimes, I was lucky to have one meal a day.”

Adrien muttered, “That family you served sounds horrible.”

“Technically, they were my family,” she replied.

He made a thoughtful noise. “I suppose you belong to the family you work for.”

“No, I mean it,” Marinette corrected with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. “Audrey's my stepmother.”

He was aghast. “Excuse me?”

“Chloé's my stepsister,” she revealed.

Adrien sounded winded. “And they treated you like that?”

“It was okay at first, back when my father was around,” Marinette assured him, placing her hands behind her head to get comfortable. She looked up at the sky and admired it instead of his expression. “After he passed, Audrey's attitude changed. I was a nuisance instead of her daughter.”

“I'm so sorry,” he whispered.

“When she told me to give Zoé my bedroom, I couldn't disobey,” she said. “And it spiralled from there. I ended up doing chores and moving into the home's servant quarters. The other servants had homes in the village so they came in the morning instead of living in the home.”

He didn't say anything to that.

It wasn't his apologies that she wanted. Adrien simply being there to listen to her was enough.

She told him about the escalation of abuse; how Audrey belittled her at any chance and treated her awfully. The words came pouring out, though there were no tears.

Adrien mirrored her position, staring up at the sky as he held her hand.

It was enough.

After she'd told him how Chloé had given her money to run away, Adrien remained silent. He squeezed her hand to comfort her.

She felt warm and loved.

They didn't need to talk to convey their feelings.

The clouds passed overhead.

When Adrien sat up, his hood had fallen to his shoulders. Instead of trying to correct it, he smiled brightly and offered his hand out to her.

Marinette stared as she allowed him to help her out.

Adrien's eyelashes had blond on the ends. “Can I push you on the swing?”

“As long as you don't push me off,” she breathed.

“You can trust me,” he said, holding her hand as they walked towards the swing.

The hood stayed off.

Marinette didn't bring it up.

Neither of them were addressing it.

When they'd walked back into town after their day out with the swing, Adrien had put the hood back up as though it had never happened at all.

Now she knew what the back of his head looked like, no matter how weird that sounded to her. She'd seen his neck which he'd frequently touch when he was nervous, along with how flat the top of his hair was.

He was wonderful.

And when they returned to their room, Adrien took the cloak off completely. He hung it up on the hook on the door, appearing confident until she saw the way he was smiling.

She could see his shoulders properly.

It was a remarkable sight. Adrien wasn't swamped in the fabric, so she could truly see his physique. She knew that he was healthy because of how the cloak opened at the front and revealed his body, but that paled in comparison to seeing his back when he turned around.

The fabric was tight there.

Marinette swallowed.

“You're staring at me,” he remarked.

“This is scandalous,” she said, touching her cheek. “I feel very overwhelmed right now.”

His ears were red.

“You're very hot,” she blurted.

“That's why I took the cloak off,” he joked.

She laughed.

“Is it... strange?” Adrien questioned, shifting on the spot.

It was a big deal between them. Adrien had kept the cloak on stubbornly the whole time they'd known each other for a reason. And while she didn't know what that was yet, it was a huge step that he was being so vulnerable with her.

She loved him.

“Oh, it's amazing,” Marinette assured him, fanning her face. “I'm feeling so seduced right now.”

“Stop,” he complained with a smile.

“Will you sleep like this?” she questioned.

He nodded. “Yes.”

She beamed. “How long until you take the rest of your clothes off?”

He spluttered, “Marinette!”

“It was a good question!”

There had to be something to it.

At first, Marinette thought that Adrien was shy and that was why he swamped himself in the cloak. That was debunked when he admitted he didn't always used to dress like this; in fact, he'd picked it up after he'd graduated from the academy.

It didn't seem to be trauma, though she couldn't rule that out completely. Adrien was entitled to his secrets.

That didn't stop her from wondering.

Waking up beside him in the morning to see his hair messy was a sight that she never wanted to miss. He would still be awake before her, either with an arm under his head or propped up to read a book while waiting for her to awaken, so his appearance would be dishevelled.

Her heart soared at the sight of him.

To try and combat the heat when they were outside, he'd push the cloak behind his shoulders so it was an awkward cape. It kept the hood on while pressing tightly onto his neck.

“This is uncomfortable,” he complained, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt.

“It's better than sweating buckets,” Marinette pointed out.

He pouted.

She kissed him.

All of the blessings she'd heard about had been stories. Although her village was close to the capital, there wasn't a lot of information passed down to them. In the fairytales, all of the blessings were positive and something wonderful.

Hers wasn't.

Adrien's wasn't either.

She had no idea what his could be.

A crippling lack of self-confidence that made him dress like a wannabe villain?

Being so overwhelmingly pretty, only for crying to be his let-down?

Marinette glanced at his crotch.

He caught her looking.

Adrien snapped his fingers to get her attention. “What are you doing?”

“Thinking,” she said.

The answer caught him off-guard as his face reddened in response.

“Well, stop,” he lamely replied, tugging his cloak around to cover his crotch. “We're outside.”

It turned out his crotch wasn't a problem either.

Marinette loved running her fingers through his hair.

Before he'd started to strip around her, she'd been too worried about knocking his hood off to indulge herself. Now she could touch him freely and he liked it.

Sometimes, they didn't have to speak as they watched the sunset. Adrien would press kisses all along her neck while she ran her fingers through his hair, letting out hums of enjoyment from all of the attention.

He nipped her earlobe to make her laugh.

It was a dream to spend every day with him. Marinette was used to waking up later now—after one late night she woke up at noon and had been astonished when she found out—and she was fine with lazing around without doing anything productive.

“What would you be doing right now if you were back home?” she questioned.

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “Something boring, I do not doubt it.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Not this,” he said, pulling her closer to snuggle into her neck.

Marinette huffed and wrapped her arms around him. “You're a big baby.”

“...Does that mean I can suck on your breasts?” he questioned.

She flicked him.

“Ow!”

“You deserved that,” she retorted.

He mumbled into her neck, “You're no fun.”

“Would it be fun if I went home with you?” Marinette asked, running her fingers through the hair by the back of his neck. “Or would you be too busy with... princely things to spend time with me?”

“Not unless we announced our engagement immediately,” he replied, breathing evenly against her. “I'd have a lot to catch up on, of course. With you as my actual fiancée, I'd have reason to skip social events—or I could even take you to them!”

“We're already engaged,” she teased.

Adrien huffed. “I'd get you an actual ring.”

“I like the explanation that we got robbed for it,” Marinette mused. “It makes us more sympathetic, doesn't it?”

“You deserve the finest jewels,” he grumbled.

“You can't get them for me,” she replied, shooting him down as she had any time he'd brought up the subject. “I'd be an even bigger target if I walked around with a huge rock on me!”

He was sulking. “I'm not asking to get you a tiara yet, am I?”

“Yet?” she repeated. “I'm not—”

“No, I'm not listening to your nonsense,” Adrien interrupted as he sat upright. He took both of her hands into his as he looked her into the eyes. “I want to be with you forever.”

He could say such things easily now.

She grimaced. “I'm really not fit to be queen.”

“That's what makes you perfect for it!” he replied, talking fast with enthusiasm. “You ground me.”

“I could push you on the ground,” she muttered.

Adrien's smile was wide. “Will you climb on top of me?”

Marinette gave him a fond look. “You've got something on the mind today.”

“Can you blame me?” he questioned. “You look so beautiful right now.”

“You say that everyday!” she exclaimed.

“And it remains true,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her hands. “If you marry me, I'll make it so no one can ever order you around again.”

Marinette swallowed. “I'll marry you for you, not for the privileges.”

“It's a bonus, then,” he corrected. “What do you say?”

She squinted. “Are you proposing to me right now?”

“Yes, I am,” Adrien confessed. His smile was as bright as the sun shining on them. “What's your answer?”

She beamed. “I suppose a rich husband is a step-up from a lover.”

Tears welled up in his eyes as he smiled.

“Adrien,” she said softly. “You're such a crybaby.”

He sniffled. “I'm so happy.”

When he kissed her hand now, he specifically kissed her ring finger.

Marinette rolled her eyes.

It wasn't about searching for answers any more.

At every location, they focused on enjoying their time together instead. They enjoyed the rest of the summer visiting pretty locations, snuggling Adrien at night, and looking at him dreamily when he smiled at her.

“Are you happy?” he asked her.

Marinette's smile reached her eyes. “The happiest I've ever been.”

“Me, too,” he confessed softly.

He took her dancing.

Marinette knew two dances now.

When they got too tipsy at a tavern, he danced with her while people cheered them on, clapping to the rhythm of a song that she didn't know. There was a drunk man that sang the lyrics horribly, causing laughter from all of the guests.

Her face felt hot from the alcohol, it was loud from all the laughter and ruckus inside the tavern, and she felt nothing but comfortable from being with Adrien. He was looking at her like she was the most important person in the world.

She believed him.

Adrien treated her with love and care that made her feel special beyond comparison.

“I love you,” she confessed.

Adrien dipped her.

Marinette shrieked and ended up on the floor.

While he fussed about making sure she was okay, she burst out into laughter.

“Come back to bed,” Adrien said sleepily.

Marinette turned on the spot and started to walk back. “I really need to pee.”

“Oh, my bad,” he slurred. “Continue.”

Afterwards, when she scurried back into bed, Adrien rolled over and hugged her, nuzzling into her neck. “Sorry for that.”

“Go to sleep,” she replied, patting his arm.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled again before his breathing evened out and he slept.

“Marinette,” Adrien started seriously, clasping his hands on the table as he cleared his throat. It was a very serious pose for him. “What do you think when you look at me?”

Their food hadn't arrived yet. After it had started to drizzle outside, they'd ducked into the nearest establishment for shelter.

She tilted her head. “I think we should go back to bed.”

“I look tired?”

“No, I meant I want to have my way with you,” she replied, putting her elbows on the table to rest her chin in her hands. “What else?”

He straightened up. “What about back when we met?”

“You were suspicious as hell, I told you that,” Marinette recalled with a smile. “Is that bothering you? It's the cloak, my love.”

“Were you scared of me?”

“No, of course not,” she replied.

He nodded with his lips pursed.

Marinette pointed out, “I could take you in a fight.”

“That's not why,” he countered.

“I'm not saying you look weak,” she said. “I know for a fact that you've got a lovely body—”

“You liked me,” Adrien interrupted her. “When we first met, you liked me.”

She scoffed. “Okay, don't get ahead of yourself.”

“Everyone likes me,” he said.

“Your ego is really showing right now,” she remarked.

He leaned in and spoke in a hushed voice. “That's—that's what my blessing is.”

It didn't make sense at first.

“What do you mean?” Marinette questioned, dropping her hands down to her lap.

He fidgeted with his clasped hands. “I'm liked as soon as anyone looks at me.”

She didn't know what to say to that.

“It's a tradition for a fairy to come and bless the firstborn child of the royal family,” Adrien admitted, keeping eye contact. “I never—I didn't know about it until I graduated and returned home. My parents had always kept it a secret.”

She shifted in her seat.

“I don't mean the fact that I was blessed, that was a given,” he explained with a laugh that didn't sound sincere at all. “I didn't know what it was.”

“People... like you,” Marinette said slowly. “How does that work?”

“Even if you have a negative opinion of me in the beginning, your mind will be changed,” he said slowly. “It's—it's to make me a good leader, I suppose. Why would war break out if I'm so charming?”

She blinked.

“I thought people were sucking up to me because of my status but this—finding out that they have no choice but to like me?” Adrien rubbed his face harshly enough to leave a red mark from his frustration. “I don't like it one bit.”

It was easy to believe him. Adrien was sincere in everything he did with her.

His blessing wasn't one that she'd ever thought about. When she'd theorised what he was suffering from, it was always more extreme.

It didn't make his suffering any less, though.

She could sympathise with him.

Marinette asked, “Does the hood help?”

He smiled. “A bit, yes.”

“...A bit?”

“It lessens it, I think,” Adrien replied. “If I put a bag over my head, it would work completely. The blessing seems to be centred around my face.”

“It sounds like you tested this,” she said.

“Oh, I have,” he admitted with a smile that wasn't forced. “I put a sheet over me at one point because I thought it would be see-through enough to actually... see.”

Marinette tried to picture it.

If he hadn't found out about it until recently—

A fully grown Adrien wearing a sheet over him was a great image.

“You can laugh,” he said, noticing her struggling to hold in her amusement. “The effect was ruined as soon as I cut eye holes in it.”

“How do you know that?” Marinette asked. “If it involves looking at your face, I don't dislike you as soon as your back is turned.”

He shifted in his head. “...I had new servants hired and tested out a different approach on each of them.”

She was intrigued. “What kind of things?”

“Like... scaring them?” Adrien tentatively explained.

She whistled. “Wow, you were a dick.”

“It was the best way to test it!” he exclaimed in his defence. “And before you say it was an abuse of power, they didn't know who I was! I was disguised—”

“Disguised?”

He grimaced. “I pretended to be a servant.”

Marinette gasped. “You were harassing other workers?”

“I made sure they were paid well for their time!” he rushed to assure her, looking a bit panicked. “And all of them agreed to stay on working for us after—after I revealed who I was.”

She had to laugh. “How did you even explain that?”

He pulled a face. “My father claimed that I like to pull terrible pranks.”

“Well, you do like to be a nuisance,” she teased, reaching across the table to take his hand into hers. “And before you worry about it, I'm not being forced into loving you.”

“The blessing doesn't work that way,” he replied matter-of-factly.

She nodded. “Good.”

“It's my dashing good looks that lured you in,” Adrien proclaimed, putting his free hand underneath his chin to strike a pose. “I understand you very well.”

Her voice wobbled from her restrained laughter. “Yes, you do.”

He asked quietly, “Do you think of me any differently now?”

“No, but it does answer why I so readily came along with you,” she mused. “I can still kick your ass, though.”

Adrien laughed. “Definitely.”

What a pair they were; a girl who was forced to do whatever she was told and a boy that couldn't be disliked. There was a clear difference between their blessings—particularly how favourable they were to their lives—yet they both hated them with a passion.

Although she couldn't dislike him, she could fall out of love and admit it freely. His blessing didn't hinder their relationship in any way.

Adrien could still control her without realising it.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I love you.”

He beamed. “I love you, too.”

Adrien would never command her with bad intentions.

Marinette's stomach twisted nervously. “This isn't going to go well.”

“That's what you think,” he replied, tugging her along the street with a skip in his step. “Trust me, my love! I'd never guide you wrong.”

She felt overwhelmed already.

The capital was big.

Her only other experience in a city was the last one they'd visited months ago. Summer had ended and leaves were falling from trees now and Adrien had an excuse to wear his cloak without looking out of place amongst the crowd.

He wasn't wearing it now.

Instead, he'd purchased matching ones for the both of them. Both had ribbons with a cute brooch on the front and were far more eye-catching than the plain black one he'd been wearing before.

Marinette had accepted new clothes as well. It was only fitting for her to dress up to meet her future in-laws.

She refused new shoes and chose to wear the boots he'd bought her.

Adrien had looked misty-eyed at that.

His hood was up. This one had embroidery along the edges that made him look even more dashing when he smiled.

Marinette's chest felt warm when he'd done her cloak up for her, finishing it off by placing a kiss on her forehead.

She'd felt like she was ready to conquer the world until they'd stepped outside of the store and reality set in.

They hadn't been there for a day yet.

Adrien was jittery with excitement. Instead of acting like he was walking to his death, he was happily showing her the streets, pointing out his favourite shops that he liked to visit.

Per his request, she wasn't saying his name.

“They're going to love you,” Adrien assured her.

She didn't open her mouth for fear that she was going to vomit.

If they did get married, hopefully, her mother-in-law would be nicer than her stepmother. She couldn't imagine Adrien's parents being awful when they'd managed to bring him up so well.

When she did speak, it was when they were past the row of shops where the builders were lower. “That's a castle.”

He beamed. “That's my home.”

She was wide-eyed and amazed by how alike it looked to be a fairytale. Then again, she was holding hands with a prince and being taken to his family—

Her life was a fairytale at this point.

Marinette swallowed.

Adrien greeted the guards out front with a smile, taking off his hood. There was a moment of silence before the guards reacted and one rushed off towards the castle while the other stuttered his words out nervously to Adrien.

They were allowed in.

There was a beautiful garden out front.

Adrien caught her looking. “It doesn't compare to the flower garden at the back.”

“You have two gardens?”

With his hood still off, she could see how his hair was flattened at the top. It didn't take away from his breath-taking smile as he excitedly pointed out his favourite flowers, guiding her over to inspect them.

Adrien snapped one off and proudly held it out to her.

Marinette accepted it warily. “Is this a crime against the royal family?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replied, trying to keep a straight face. “I've tricked you and now you'll be killed for your actions.”

She tutted. “Dang.”

He laughed loudly.

“I should hide the evidence, then,” she said, placing it in the pocket of her cloak. “Remind me not to squish it.”

He pouted. “You're not going to wear it?”

“And be arrested?” she replied.

“You wouldn't be!”

“I don't want to meet your parents with a stolen flower in my hair,” Marinette admitted, fiddling with her sleeve nervously. “I really might be sick. This is terrifying.”

Adrien's voice was soft. “Trust me.”

She put her hands on her stomach dramatically.

“You're lucky you're cute,” he muttered, patting the top of her head, “because you sure aren't funny.”

Marinette smiled. “I am a bit.”

He sniffed. “I like to laugh at you more.”

“That's love,” she declared, straightening up. “Okay, let's get this over with before I pee myself from fear.”

“You sure sound excited,” he remarked, offering his hand out for her.

She took it. “I'm beside myself with anticipation.”

In an effort to comfort her, Adrien told her an embarrassing story about his childhood as they approached the front steps. A man was standing out the front waiting for them.

“Do you remember the scar on my knee? I got that from falling down these very steps.”

“Clumsy,” she said.

Adrien smugly replied, “I was pushed by my cousin, actually.”

“What?”

“He's a murderer in the making,” he told her.

Marinette stared at him.

“My parents made sure the story wouldn't leak otherwise there would be a lot of malicious comments about him,” Adrien explained, sounding amused. “Surely, it was a plot to kill me off and take my place ruling the country in the future. It didn't matter that we were—six?”

She didn't know how to reply to that.

It turned out that she didn't have to.

The large doors opened at the front and a man and woman came running out.

Adrien was immediately pulled into a hug from the woman.

Marinette awkwardly dropped his hand and took a step away to try and lessen the awkwardness. After glancing up to see that the man was looking at her, she stared down at the floor and tried not to throw up.

“Adrien, you stupid boy,” the woman sobbed, holding him tight. “I'm so glad you've returned.”

“Mother—” Adrien's tears were starting up again. “I'm sorry for leaving without saying anything.”

Wordlessly, Marinette took the handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it over to him. Unfortunately, it made the stolen flower from earlier fall to the floor.

She swallowed.

No one took notice of it.

Adrien tried to pull away from the hug to blow his nose, but his mother refused. She kept him close, crying so hard tears were trailing down her face, and Marinette found herself staring for far too long because she had the same nose as Adrien.

Of course she did. These were his parents.

“Welcome home, son,” his father said.

Adrien gave him a watery smile. “Thank you.”

“Did you get hurt?” the queen demanded, pulling back to put both of her hands on Adrien's cheeks to inspect him.

“No, I'm fine!” he tried to say.

“Your face is so dry,” she wailed.

“And your hair looks terrible,” the king added on.

Marinette didn't think either of those statements was true. Then again, she'd never seen Adrien all dressed up before.

“I see you hired a servant this time,” the king observed.

Her pitiful history lessons were failing her since she couldn't remember either of their names. Adrien had never told her either, probably assuming that she knew them already.

She would've if she'd cared.

It felt like a big oversight now.

“Father, she's not a servant!” Adrien exclaimed with a wet sniff.

His eyes were wet and he looked as atrocious as ever when he cried.

Marinette loved him.

Stepping away from his parents, Adrien wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he announced, “This is Marinette, my wife.”

The queen made a choked noise. “I beg your pardon?”

“Oh,” the king breathed, putting a hand to his temple as he closed his eyes. “I should've known you'd so something idiotic.”

“Okay, we're not married yet,” Adrien corrected, pulling her in closer to make a point. Marinette let out a startled noise when her face was pressed into his chest as he embraced her. “I waited until we came back here! You'd never forgive me if I had a wedding without you.”

There was a sigh.

Marinette could agree with that reaction.

Then, his father dropped to the floor.

Adrien refused to be separated from her, so they'd ended up being escorted to his bedroom. It was as big as the first floor of her childhood home.

“I can't believe I'm being locked in already,” Adrien complained, flopping back on his bed. “Isn't this ridiculous? I came back! Why would I run away again?”

It had been maintained since his departure. There was not a single speck of dirt on the furniture and the windows were clean. There was a lot of care and attention poured into the room.

Marinette felt very intimidated.

“Your father fainted,” she pointed out.

Adrien muttered, “He's doing it for attention.”

She almost laughed. “You sound like you're sulking.”

“I am!” he exclaimed, struggling to get out of the cloak without sitting up. “I had this whole plan for how we'd do this. It didn't include being shut in here.”

She glanced down at her boots. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“No, you haven't got any slippers to change into yet.”

“Yet?” she queried. “I think I'm more likely to be thrown out than given a whole new wardrobe.”

“I'll cry if they do that,” he replied.

She snorted. “Adrien, you've already cried...”

“Mother will start crying if she sees me, so that'll work in my favour,” he said, patting the bed beside him. “Will you sit beside me? I feel very far from you right now.”

“That's because your bedroom is too big,” she replied, fulfilling his request to tentatively sit on the edge. The mattress didn't feel awful from just her backside. “Is this really where you live?”

“We have a summer home as well,” Adrien informed her, shuffling over to place his head on her lap, looking up at her with a smile. “I'll take you there next year. You'll love it.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Sure.”

“We could have the wedding there,” he proposed.

“I still don't have a ring,” she teased.

“The matching cloaks will do for now,” Adrien replied. “I'll get an appointment at a jeweller as soon as we escape this dungeon.”

“This is a pretty nice dungeon,” she mused. “A distinct lack of chains.”

His smile was bright. “Anywhere is nice with you.”

“Stop,” she complained.

He tapped his lower lip. “How about you make me stop?”

Marinette glanced towards the door. “What if someone comes in?”

“They'll knock and wait for permission,” he assured her.

She pursed her lips.

He batted his eyelashes.

She tucked her hair behind her ear before leaning down to kiss him.

“Adrien, we are willing to—oh!”

Marinette recoiled and almost fell off the bed from how fast she moved away from him.

“Mother!” he complained, moving his body to block Marinette from view. “You should've knocked!”

“I was worried because I couldn't hear any noise!” the queen shot back, sounding exasperated. “I'll... allow you two to finish up before we talk.”

Marinette was mortified.

Although she was fully dressed, she stayed behind Adrien to avoid seeing the queen's expression.

“Where should we meet you?” Adrien questioned, sounding more composed than he did a moment ago. His hair was messed up because of her fingers. “Did we miss dinner?”

“I already asked the chefs to prepare you a meal along with your... companion.”

Marinette cringed.

“Great!” he replied. “We'll meet you in the dining room, then.”

She couldn't hear the sound of the door shutting over her pulse. It was Adrien turning around to face her with a guilty smile that made her aware that they were alone.

He started to say, “I am so sorry—”

Marinette put her face in her hands and let out a quiet scream.

“It wasn't that bad,” he tried to assure her.

“She probably thinks I'm a harlot!”

Adrien patted her shoulder. “That's a bit of a jump—”

“I don't even know her name!” Marinette wailed.

“...Oh.”

“Your name is Marinette?”

“And yours is Emilie,” she blurted. Then, she quickly added on, “Not that I'd call you that, of course. You're Queen Emilie and I'm—I'll be quiet now.”

Adrien was struggling to hold in laughter beside her.

Marinette fidgeted in her seat.

When she'd imagined dinner with a royal family—which wasn't at all until the past month—she'd failed to take into account the large dining table filled with an abundance of food. All of the cutlery was overwhelming, she was terrified of dropping a glass that surely cost more money than she owned, and even the tablecloth was embroidered beautifully.

At least Adrien was sitting beside her.

His parents were on the opposite side with no one sitting at the head of the table. They were seated in the middle and there were enough chairs for more than double the number of people.

“Marinette and I are getting married,” Adrien proclaimed.

King Gabriel touched his temple. “We haven't had our food yet, Adrien.”

“She's moving in here,” he continued. “And we're going to share my bedroom.”

That was news to her.

Adrien then turned towards her and whispered, “Right? Unless you want your own room—”

She shrugged.

“You can share after you're engaged,” King Gabriel said.

“We are engaged,” Adrien argued.

“Officially,” Queen Emilie clarified. “If word gets out, her reputation will be ruined.”

Marinette blurted, “I have no reputation.”

“Are you...” King Gabriel trailed off to clear his throat as he ran his fingers through his hair. The mannerism was one that she saw often in Adrien. “Are you a commoner?”

Adrien answered for her. “Yes!”

Queen Emilie put her elbows on the table and placed her chin in her hands, eyes darting between her and Adrien with a smile. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh, we met twice,” Adrien recalled, dreamily clasping his hands together. “You'll never believe it, Mother! It was like fate—”

“He was being chased and ended up taking me along,” Marinette explained shyly, unsure whether her input was wanted. From the queen's widening smile, it was.

Adrien decided to throw her to the wolves. “She threatened me with a knife.”

She looked at him in horror, expecting backlash.

“I hope you learned your lesson about the dangers of the world,” the king remarked. “Your opponent won't always be a girl, nor will you have a sword with you.”

Marinette had never seen Adrien with a sword. The only knife he'd held had been at meals.

Adrien beamed. “Marinette would beat me any day.”

Queen Emilie was amazed. “Are you sure?”

Adrien nodded. “She stabbed a thief once!”

She spluttered, “I did not—”

“Well, I wish you did,” he corrected with a dismissive wave of his hand. “That's how I chose to remember it. Marinette did get everything back without a scratch on her.”

King Gabriel stated, “I saw your mother knee a man between the legs once.”

Marinette didn't know what to do with that information.

The queen laughed in delight. “I'd do it again!”

Marinette was allowed to share his bedroom. She'd been provided with her room down the hall with the explanation that it was available if they ever had a fight or she wanted to protect her little reputation for when she made her debut.

She had no plans for that.

“Of course you don't have to do anything,” Adrien happily told her. “You're free to do anything you wish. You can read all day! Sunbathe in the gardens until it's dark or—”

“How about I wash myself?” Marinette requested, pretending to shiver. “Your servants tried to barge into the bathroom again.”

He tutted. “They're doing their job.”

“I've washed myself until now, thank you,” she replied, putting her hands on her hips. “If I need help washing my back, I have you.”

Adrien gasped and put a hand on his chest. “Are you asking me to bathe with you?”

“...Yes?”

“Excellent, I like that idea,” he said. “I'll tell them not to bother us in the future.”

That was an easy resolution for one problem.

Tackling her boredom was the next one. It wasn't like when they were travelling, meeting locals and telling their fake stories everywhere they went. The king and queen had requested for them to stay in the palace for the upcoming week because they didn't trust Adrien stepping out of it.

The servants watched him warily whenever he walked near the door.

And if they were in the gardens, someone was always nearby to see whether he'd make a run for it.

“They think you're going to sprint away,” Marinette remarked.

“I did, before,” he admitted. “I hid my belongings out here in a bush the night before, then ran when no one was looking.”

She stared.

He shrugged. “It worked for a while.”

“Act your age,” she scolded. “You're too old to run away from home.”

“And you're not?” he countered.

It was a good point.

Marinette made a thoughtful noise. “I'm your fiancée, right?”

“Yes.”

“I'm powerful,” she said.

“Very,” Adrien agreed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I'm terrified of you.”

“Can I take Chloé and Zoé from their home?” Marinette questioned.

“They're... your age, right?” he questioned, furrowing his brows in an attempt to recall the right information.

“Chloé is, Zoé will be soon,” she confirmed.

“I don't see why not,” he remarked. “I could buy them a home nearby?”

“Can I give them money?” Marinette asked.

Adrien smiled. “What's mine is yours.”

She beamed.

“Can I have a tutor?” Marinette questioned as they were drifting off to sleep.

He sounded drowsy. “What for?”

“I'm bored,” she said. “You're busy helping out your parents and I... have nothing to do? I don't know much about our country or—or anything? I should learn, right?”

“Only if you want to,” he replied.

“I do,” she insisted.

“I'll get you one,” he promised.

“As long as they're nice,” Marinette muttered. “I don't want a mean one.”

“If anyone's mean to you, I'll kill them,” Adrien assured her, putting an arm over her hip. “I'll make it an order that they can't make demands of you.”

She snorted. “How will you make that not suspicious?”

“I'll say I'm protective of you,” he replied without hesitation. “If they don't watch their wording, I'll kick them out.”

“That's more than protective,” she remarked.

Adrien teased, “Well, good thing I'm more than in love with you.”

“Oh, stop,” she said with a laugh. “You're too cheesy!”

“This is boring,” Marinette complained.

Adrien was running his fingers through her hair. “You're not used to living in luxury, that's all.”

For the first half an hour of the journey, she looked out the windows of the carriage in wonder. With permission to go out as long as they had an escort, Marinette had one destination in mind for their first trip.

It quickly got old.

Marinette ditched sitting up straight to lounge in his lap. The carriage was steady so she wasn't likely to fall off.

Adrien would catch her if there was a large bump in the road.

“Entertain me,” she demanded.

Adrien touched the corner of her mouth.

She licked his thumb.

He smiled. “Shall I tell you my father's blessing?”

“What about your mother's?” she questioned.

“Come on, Marinette,” he chastised with a shake of his head. “My mother married in! I told you this the other day—”

“There's a lot of information to take in!”

“Here's one more,” he started, tapping the end of her nose. “He can't go bald.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“That's the blessing,” Adrien explained, trying to hold back laughter. “Haven't you seen the portraits? Your memory is awful.”

“...Bald?”

“My grandfather went bald very early,” he replied seriously. “It wasn't a good look on him so he wore an obnoxious crown most of the time.”

“...Are you going bald?” she questioned.

He pouted. “Will you still love me?”

“I thought you had your hood on to hide a bald patch for the longest time,” Marinette confessed, “and I still kissed you.”

Adrien beamed.

“I'll shine your head for you,” she promised.

“Please, treat me like an apple,” he requested. “Uh, did that count as a demand?”

“I don't know what that means, so I hope not,” Marinette mused. “I'm not taking a bite out of you.”

He widened his eyes. “I'm scared of your mouth now.”

Marinette blew him a kiss.

The front door was open.

Adrien was beside her, there were two guards with swords behind them, and the driver was sitting with the reins in hand to make a quick getaway if needed.

Marinette knocked on the door first.

When there wasn't a reply, she took in a deep breath before turning the handle and stepping inside. Adrien followed along, taking in the hallway curiously.

If she was lucky, Audrey wasn't home.

“Chloé?” Marinette shouted.

Instead of the person she wanted coming out, a servant poked their head out of the kitchen. It was one that she'd worked with before, so she was recognised immediately.

With the news that Audrey had gone to a tea party, Marinette skipped upstairs to Chloé's room.

“Chloé!” she exclaimed, pushing the door open.

It slammed against the door.

Chloé screamed in terror from the bed.

“Chloé, my love!” she cried, rushing to tackle her into a hug. They rolled over onto the mattress as Chloé put her hands on Marinette's neck and squeezed. “Don't kill me! I came back for you—”

“Why are you here?” Chloé demanded. Her hair was a mess and there was drool on the corner of her mouth. “You stupid idiot—”

“I'm freeing you!”

Chloé glared. “Excuse me?”

She beamed. “I stole your plan.”

Chloé stopped trying to strangle her. “What are you talking about?”

“I found a rich man, so I'm taking you away from here,” Marinette happily told her, sitting up with a wide smile. “Pack your things—and Zoé's, too. We'll grab her along the way.”

Chloé stared.

Adrien cleared his throat to make his presence known.

Turning her head sharply, Chloé's expression turned into one of horror.

“Hi, I'm Marinette's fiancé,” Adrien said, introducing himself with a formal bow. When that was paired with his pretty looks and expensive clothes—and no cloak in sight—it was very effective. “I've heard that your mother is... not a nice person?”

Chloé gawked.

Marinette patted her shoulders in sympathy. “He's pretty, huh?”

“I'm nothing compared to you,” he corrected, taking a cautious step into the room. “Is there anything you'd like to pack, Chloé? I can have our guards help take everything. We have multiple carriages, so don't worry about picking the important things.”

Chloé turned back to look at Marinette with wide eyes. “Am I having a fever dream?”

Marinette put both hands on Chloé's shoulders. “I live in a castle now.”

Chloé gasped.

“I have servants trying to wash me.”

Chloé made a choked noise. “No.”

Marinette nodded solemnly. “I can give you a jewel that'll support you for life.”

“You lucky bitch,” Chloé breathed.

She winked. “I owe you.”

“Zoé's by the lake, pick her up and throw her in the carriage,” Chloé demanded.

“I could have Audrey arrested,” Adrien offered.

Chloé kept a straight face. “With what charges?”

“Anything I want, it doesn't matter,” he replied with a shrug. “I could even say it was treason?”

Although there were four of them in the carriage now, Marinette had gone back to resting in Adrien's lap. Chloé and Zoé were sitting across from them stiffly.

Zoé kept her mouth shut and stared out of the window in awe. The offer of leaving the village—and more importantly, Audrey—was enough to make her agree as soon as the carriages were in sight to prove that Marinette was telling the truth.

“Treason,” Chloé repeated.

Adrien's smile showed his dimples. “I am royalty, after all.”

Chloé snorted.

Marinette raised her hand to stroke his chin. “May I present to you, Prince Adrien?”

Adrien leaned into her touch with a laugh.

“I don't believe it,” Chloé replied.

Zoé nodded.

Marinette could understand them. “You'll see.”

“Oh, fuck!” Chloé exclaimed.

Zoé's expression was the same as her sister's.

Marinette was smug. “What were you saying?”

Chloé sharply turned to face her. “You absolutely have to marry him.”

“If I had it my way, we'd be married already,” Adrien assured her, wrapping an arm around Marinette's waist to pull her in close and smile at her with such a gooey look. To finish it off, he kissed her forehead. “It's my parents that are delaying us—and, of course, we have to have you two present. We're going to be family.”

Chloé was struck with a realisation. “Oh, you two are disgusting together.”

“Disgustingly in love,” she corrected.

Marinette was happy.

She had a nice tutor that came almost every day—the lessons were in a room where she could see Adrien practising with a sword at the training grounds outside from the window—and Adrien's parents were welcoming her warmly. All meals were spent together and the addition of her family made it better.

Chloé and Zoé were allowed to stay in the palace until after the upcoming wedding. Their rooms were slightly smaller than Adrien's own, though they were just as luxurious. Everything about the palace was elegant and cared for.

Audrey had no way of knowing where her daughters had run off to. Marinette hadn't spoken to any locals when she'd returned, so the only gossip was that expensive-looking carriages had come into the village for a couple of hours.

“Don't worry about the servants telling,” Adrien told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Everyone accepted the offer to relocate to the city with a new job.”

She blinked.

He revealed, “I offered money for them to snitch on each other.”

Marinette felt a bit dazed. “You... gave them jobs?”

“Yes, you said they treated you well,” Adrien answered, touching the back of his neck. “Was that—was that a bad thing? I'm sorry, I should've consulted you first. It was an idea I had suddenly while you and Chloé were rounding up Zoé.”

“No, I like it,” she whispered. “I love it.”

“I can still arrest her,” he offered.

“I'd rather assassinate her,” she muttered.

Adrien beamed. “I can do that.”

Marinette exclaimed, “I was joking!”

Luka was the first one to recognise her. “Marinette?”

“Hello,” she greeted, pushing her hood off as they stepped into the tavern. “Are you open yet?”

“You're—” Luka spluttered before he rushed to the door leading to the kitchen. “Mother, Marinette's here!”

Juleka's voice came through. “Marinette?”

Beside her, Adrien gave a smile from the warm response. He'd been sceptical at first when she'd said she wanted to return to the tavern on their way back, unsure on whether her appearance would be welcome or not.

Although it was only a month that she'd stayed there—which wasn't long to some people—it had been a big step for her. This family had welcomed her after she'd first enquired about the job and they'd been kind until the very end.

The family were all smiles when she greeted them again.

“I'm here to invite you to my wedding,” Marinette proclaimed, happily gesturing to Adrien beside her. “This is Adrien, my fiancée.”

Juleka squinted.

Luka made a choked noise. “Prince Adrien?”

“Hello,” Adrien greeted shyly. “Thank you for humouring me before.”

Their legs were tangled up and they cuddled in bed. Marinette's pyjamas were soft and felt nice to touch, so she could understand why Adrien was caressing her leg.

“I feel luxurious,” she stated.

“You look it.”

“Adrien, it's dark.”

“I can picture you in my head and it's beautiful,” he replied, knocking his head against her chin. “Ow, I was trying to kiss you.”

She laughed. “You missed.”

“Yes, thank you, Marinette,” he muttered.

“Loser,” she teased, blindly feeling his face to get an idea of his features. With her hand on his cheek, she was able to kiss the side of his mouth. “There, that's how you do it.”

“You're so smart,” he said fondly.

“I'm a smartass sometimes,” she agreed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course you can,” he replied.

Marinette stuttered out, “Do the—do the fairies live in a separate country?”

“Yes,” Adrien confirmed without hesitation. “Why would I lie to you?”

“It sounds very unbelievable,” she said.

“It's the truth,” he vowed.

“It's weird to think about,” she murmured, wrapping her arm back around his waist to cuddle him. It felt more like she was clinging to him and taking up too much space, but he didn't complain. “Why won't your parents let you visit?”

“They think I'm ungrateful,” he admitted with a laugh that didn't sound very sincere. “If I stormed over there and demanded for it to be removed, it could… mess up our relations? A blessing is supposed to be a miracle.”

She swallowed. “It's not for us.”

“It's not,” he agreed, for once not arguing that there was a difference between them. “I was stubbornly trying to find her myself. I know it's pointless. I know that we wouldn't have found her but—”

“I didn't have the courage to actually look until you came along,” Marinette said quietly. “I thought you were really cool.”

“I thought I was suspicious?” he questioned.

She squeezed his chest tightly so he let out a gasping laugh. “If your parents refused to help, what about your little book?”

“My book of secrets?” he asked.

“Yes!”

Adrien confessed, “I hired someone to travel the country asking questions.”

The answer caught her off-guard.

Marinette felt a bit dazed. “Wait, if someone had already—”

“I'm more likeable,” he interrupted to defend himself, already picking up where her thoughts were going. “I'd have more luck than anyone, surely! I just had to pick up the trail!”

She tried not to laugh. “You're a detective now?”

“With you as my partner, yes,” he replied, running his fingers through her hair. “If we ever get bored of ruling the country in the future, we have another career option.”

“I don't mind travelling when it's with you,” she admitted.

“It was fun,” he recalled wistfully. “Now that my secret's out in the open, I can take you sightseeing! You'll love our summer villa and—”

Marinette smiled. “I'll love anywhere with you.”

“You're sweet,” Adrien murmured. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You bought me new shoes,” she quipped.

He laughed. “You'll wear them to our wedding, right?”

“Oh, of course!”

“I love you,” Adrien said, kissing her eye.

She shrieked in surprise.

“I was aiming for your forehead,” he defended.

She huffed. “That was an attack and you know it.”

Adrien laughed. “You can't escape me now.”

“I wasn't planning to!”

He asked, “Since you asked me a question, can I ask one back?”

“I suppose so,” she replied.

Adrien held her close. “It's also very stupid and the thought makes me laugh.”

“What is it?”

He questioned, “You have looked in a mirror to tell yourself not to be obedient, right?”

There was a beat of silence.

“Right?”

Marinette let out a nervous laugh. “Uh.”

“You have, right?” Adrien sat up abruptly. “Are you joking—”

“...No.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. “No, you're just joking with me.”

She swallowed. “I have never tried that.”

He wheezed.

“I'll... go do that now,” Marinette announced, gingerly getting out of bed. The layout of the room was getting more familiar, but she still managed to stub her toe on the leg of the bed.

Adrien scrambled to light an oil lamp, following after her.

She looked at her reflection—messy hair, clear skin, and expensive clothes—and stated, “You will no longer be obedient.”

Adrien stood behind her with the lamp.

Marinette turned on the spot to face him and put her hands on her hips. “Let's try it.”

“Surely, this won't work,” he said. “You must've done this! It's so obvious—”

“It never occurred to me!”

“You're toying with me!” Adrien accused, pointing a finger at her. “You want me to believe this nonsense and I'm not having it!”

“Tell me what to do!” she demanded.

He shook his head.

Marinette pouted.

“Oh, don't do that,” he complained. “I want to kiss you.”

“Tell me to kiss you, then,” she compromised.

He pursed his lips.

“I want to,” Marinette pointed out. “It's not against my free will and I'm requesting it.”

“If you say so...” Adrien trailed off, clearing his throat. “Kiss me.”

She stayed still.

“Kiss me,” he repeated.

Marinette put her face in her hands and wailed.

“O-oh,” Adrien stuttered out. “Wow, that's—okay. This is happening.”

“I'm an idiot!” she cried.