Chapter Seven
The Jealous Bee
The Moth slowly scanned the crowd as he passed the masses of people, surprisingly enough managing to go by perfectly unnoticed; he'd lost track of the Lady and the Prince while considering his next move, and cursed himself for it – though he decided that this mistake perhaps could be turned to his advantage. Perhaps there was someone in the crowd, someone whom the Moth could influence enough to work with him. The more people he had working by his side, albeit in secret, the better.
The Moth absolutely possessed no desire to have to return for the Miraculous a second night. If there was no need to, then why risk exposing his identity and getting unmasked in front of a massive crowd? The Moth was already putting enough at risk as things were. He could not afford to mess up.
Trying to maintain his patience, the Moth knew, would be the hardest task. There were far more people attending the ball than he'd anticipated, and they were all there for the Prince.
There were many young girls, and they all wanted to have their shot with the Prince, but they had no idea which boy was him. The Moth figured that this was sure to lead to some frustration boiling up within some of the particularly less kind and more spoiled and greedy girls of which the Moth was sure were attending the ball as well.
Spoiled brats were everywhere, most certainly within families of royalty and nobility. And the Moth would make sure to use these girls' easily influenced minds to his advantage.
Of course, there had to be at least one girl – one who was jealous of the Lady, who'd instantly become the Belle of the Ball the moment she'd so much as appeared at the ballroom's entry doors. All attention had been drawn to her and this mysterious boy – whoever he was – instead of to that girl, who now stood there, feeling greatly unappreciated, despite her best friends' reassurances of how she was the prettiest girl around that night, rather than that Lady. This should've been her night, right? Not any other random girl's. She should have been the one to be looked at, gawked at with awe, envied, loved by all. She should have been the one to dance with that mysterious, handsome stranger – what if it happened to be the Prince, or someone who was close to him?
What if this Lady was to take that girl's rightful place by the Prince's side, her right to become his Queen when he became King? She could not let that happen. She would not let that happen.
People just had to forget that this other girl, this ladybug, or whoever or whatever she was, existed.
How dare she steal the bug-theme. Chloé's dress and mask were both beautifully bee-themed, as were all her accessories. She just missed the perfect hairpiece. Was that the reason why Chloé's dress hadn't been admired and stared at, like that Ladybug's dress had?
Who was she, anyway? What business did she have here, other than trying to steal the Prince's heart, Chloé's Prince?
Adrien was hers. Everyone knew that. And if they didn't, they'd better learn. And this Ladybug-girl was about to learn tonight.
The Moth smiled as he noticed a blonde girl, dressed in a yellow ball gown decorated with expensive silk around the skirt to resemble a bee's body. The gown's body was black and covered in small, glittering stones. Even the girl's mask was decorated with black and yellow gemstones. The Moth could tell this one, this girl, was the girl he'd been looking for while scanning the crowd. She was the perfect candidate for his plan, and the Moth felt as though she'd be more than willing to cooperate – as long as she was motivated in the right way.
The Moth hid away again, making sure the coast was clear. Then, he produced a small butterfly from underneath his cloak – it was a beautiful, white creature. Until the Moth put his gloved hands around it; the small, white butterfly shivered as its wings gained a dark purple colour with glowing white patterns. It was as if the little butterfly's innocence was corrupted the moment the Moth caught it in his evil hands.
"I have a job for you, my little butterfly," he whispered to the creature between his fingers. "Or, should I say, mon petit Akuma."
The butterfly had completed its transformation. It'd stopped struggling, no longer trying to break free, accepting its fate and whatever mission its new master was about to give it. Orders the butterfly, now Akuma, knew it had no choice but to follow.
"My little Akuma, I need you to find me that little jealous bee and bring her to me," the Moth whispered to the Akuma in his hand. "Just simply lure her in, and don't take any bystanders with her. Just her… then we'll take care of the rest. She's in a way too busy of a crowd to… motivate her properly."
The Moth opened his hands and the Akuma flew free into the crowd of people, off to fulfil the task his master had just bestowed upon him.
"Fly, my Akuma," the Moth said, "though I doubt darkening her heart any further will be all that necessary."
The Akuma went on its way, quickly flapping its wings to reach its target – Chloé. Just as the Akuma flew into her view, Chloé was talking to Sabrina. More discourse about the Ladybug and her fabulous dress and how she didn't deserve all she was getting, nothing more interesting than that.
When Chloé noticed the small, purple butterfly flying about, she instantly knew she had to go and check it out. She ordered Sabrina to stay right where she was, and though she'd rather gone along with her friend to wherever she was going, the girl obliged without a word.
Chloé followed the Akuma without knowing the danger that awaited at the end of the route. It lead her outside, to the castle gardens, which were open to guests that night but surprisingly hardly visited by any of them. Chloé's curiosity grew with every step she took, making it impossible for her to change her mind halfway-through.
Chloé couldn't help but wonder. Why had the butterfly, so mysterious yet beautiful in appearance, appeared before her? Why had no one else noticed it? Was she special, was she the only one who could see it? Was this butterfly there just for her, would it admire her, her hair, her dress?
Perhaps this was the confirmation Chloé was looking for. This mystical butterfly believed she was special, and to Chloé, this feeling was better than any kind of feeling she could ever muster. For a moment, she managed to forget all about that Ladybug and her beautiful dress and how Chloé envied her.
For a moment, Chloé was happy.
That happiness would quickly vanish as the girl and the Akuma reached their destination. A man, dressed in all purple and wearing a large hat and cloak stood before Chloé, alerting her that something was up. He'd obviously been waiting for her, and there was no doubt that he was the one who'd sent the butterfly to lure Chloé to him.
"Who – who are you?" the Bee asked, taking a careful step backwards as to not to get too closed to the mysterious man in the hat. "What do you want from me? Why did you bring me here?"
Chloé noticed that the man's mouth curled upwards. It was basically the only area of skin exposed underneath the hat. The mask the man wore was massive, butterfly-shaped, but pointed and aggressive-looking. His blue eyes were piercing between all the purple colours and stared right into Chloé's despite the low lighting.
"You can call me a friend, my Queen Bee," the Moth said, smiling in a way Chloé just could not assume to be friendly.
"You're not my friend," Chloé said, "you sound far too old for that. Do you know my father?"
The Moth nodded. "I do," he said, "I am not a friend of yours, but one of your father's. I actually brought you out here to offer you some help."
Behind her mask, Chloé lowered a suspicious eyebrow. "What do you mean, 'help'?" she asked, still refusing to approach the purple-dressed stranger.
"I noticed you earlier tonight," the Moth explained. "You seemed rather upset, I must say. It's because of that girl, isn't it? The Ladybug?"
Chloé couldn't help but admit that the stranger was entirely right. "Yeah, I didn't like that she got everyone's undivided attention," she tried to explain herself without sounding too narcissistic. "You know, it isn't as if she is the only girl around. Why would she het all of the attention? What's so special about her?" Chloé crossed her arms and pouted childishly. "It's just not fair."
The Moth couldn't help but smile in amusement at the display in front of him. This girl was truly spoiled, indeed. She was the perfect candidate to help the Moth get what he wanted.
"I can help you with that, dear," he said, grinning. "If you'll let me, of course."
Chloé's hands quickly moved to her hips. "How could you help me?" she said. "Show me first. You have to show me how you're planning on helping me!
"You're wasting my time right now, so you better hurry up so I can return to the ball and find my Prince Charming!"
A dangerous smile crept up on the Moth's lips. "Ah, but of course," he said. "Don't worry, dear. I will show you right away."
The Akuma, which had been waiting patiently for its master to give it a sign, quickly approached Chloé. She stepped aside, but the Akuma flew up, touching her hairpiece. The Moth had caught a Bee... how curious.
"Now that's out of the way, I'm sure we'll be able to agree on everything," the Moth said. "I want to help you get your Prince, but in return, you'll have to do something for me.
"I promise this will benefit us both... in multiple ways."
The Queen Bee slightly tilted her head in curiosity. "Is that so?" she said. "Tell me more, Moth."
The Moth grinned. "If you want your Prince, you'll have to get rid of the Ladybug and her suited sidekick... le Chat Noir... Prince Noir. You can dot his by taking their jewellery... it will reveal them for what they truly are: peasants, disguised by magic to look like Royalty. They will be humiliated... and you will take your place beside the Prince. He would loss all interest in that peasant Ladybug once he knew her identity."
Queen Bee wanted to ask how the Moth knew all this, were they really peasants? But her desire for the Prince was far greater than her desire for logic and knowledge, and thus she agreed.
"Let me guess," she said, "you desire to possess these magical jewellery?"
The Moth nodded. "You get the idea, dear.
"Now, go. We have only so long before midnight strikes."
