A/N: See? I keep my promises ;)
- Chapter 14 -
A few days later, about midafternoon, Alya had been out running errands for the Bourgeois home and happened to be nearby just as Marinette was leaving the Durand's shop for the day.
Marinette was ecstatic to see her and instantly filled her in about all of the recent happenings of her life. Minus the Ladybug stuff, of course.
However, Marinette's second meeting with the Prince had completely taken Alya by surprise.
"Girl, that is fate knocking on your door! Stuff like that doesn't just happen!"
"Oh, it's really only pure coincidence—nothing more." Marinette tried to brush it off even though her heart was thumping excitedly.
"Call it whatever you want, but I would have never had believed a crazy story like that—if it hadn't come from you."
They both laughed as they continued walking.
As the girls traveled into the central part of Kingdom—towards the main central square, they noticed quite a bit of commotion happening all around them. Which was definitely unusual.
Carriages were stopped and parked around the square. People were standing around in groups talking and the energy was high.
Marinette's guard went up instantly. She kept her eyes open in case she needed to break away and transform.
As Marinette and Alya approached the scene, they noticed a Palace representative nailing a paper to a large post in the center of the square. This served as the "message board" for the Kingdom. This certainly explained the crowd.
As he finished, he was practically mobbed by the crowd, as people pushed forward to read any news coming from the Palace.
The high-pitched squeals of young girls echoed and reverberated off of the cobblestones. Their excited chatter filled the square.
Other people laughed and shook their heads.
Marinette and Alya bided their time, but eventually they made it up to view the paper.
"Hear ye, Hear ye. By order of his royal Highness King Gabriel Agreste, all loyal, available and eligible gentlemen and ladies of the Kingdom are hereby notified, by royal proclamation, of a masquerade ball to be held exactly three weeks hence in the honor of the royal Price Adrien Agreste—who humbly requests the pleasure of your privileged company at this event."
Well, that certainly explained all of the girls losing their minds. This was shaping up to be the biggest social event of the season.
Marinette was having a hard time controlling her excitement. As soon as she and Alya were able to move away from the crowded square, she grabbed onto her friend's sleeve and yanked at it excitedly.
"Alya! A royal ball! Can you believe it?"
Alya smirked. "Yeah. That's pretty exciting."
"Exciting doesn't even begin to describe it! And, it's a masquerade ball. How glamorous."
Marinette's brain was going a million miles an hour. She was envisioning the event in her mind: dancers twirling in their flowing, glistening gowns and men in their dark suits and tails. All together in the fashionable setting of the royal Palace, lit by hundreds of candles from crystal chandeliers and bathed in moonlight. The vision was all too perfect in her mind. She was overloaded with inspiration.
Alya elbowed Marinette playfully in the ribs. "And hosted by thee Prince Adrien, no less."
Marinette let out a happy squeal, a blush instantly filling her cheeks. "It's a royal ball, of course he will be there! Oh god, Alya. I would give anything to be a fly on the wall at that ball. Could you even imagine dancing at a royal ball? It would be pure bliss."
Marinette began to sway her hips as they walked—imagining the music in her head. Alya noticed her and, grabbing her hand, joined in. The girls instantly got the giggles.
Soon, they were playfully twirling each other down the street. Dancing to imaginary music.
"May I have this dance, Lady Marinette?" Alya teased happily.
"But of course, Lady Alya." Marinette answered cheerfully.
They skipped and spun on their toes as they continued their journey towards their respective homes.
When they reached the bakery, they stopped dancing and Marinette asked, "Want to stay for dinner, Alya?"
"Nah girl, I've got to head back to the Bourgeois' home tonight."
"Really?"
"Yeah, her royal heiress is going to the Palace tomorrow for a few days, and she's a bit demanding with all of her packing."
Marinette suddenly felt a wave of sadness wash over her. It was completely irrational. But she couldn't help the tug of emotion on her heart.
Lady Chloe was, without a doubt, going to be spending that amount of time with the Prince.
Getting the Prince all to herself hardly seemed fair. But Marinette had to remind herself of the obvious: the two were destined to be together. The elite only mixed with other members of the elite—that's just the way things go.
It's just, now having met the Prince on a few occasions, Marinette knew what type of person he was: kind, sweet, incredibly selfless and everything that Lady Chloe was not.
"Geez, could you look any more upset?" Alya tormented her.
"I… uhh… what?"
"It's written all over your face!" Alya told her. "You're practically pining after him."
Marinette put her hands on her hips. She didn't have to deny her crush on the Prince to Alya—her friend knew about it all too well.
"Oh, I am not! I'm just… concerned. Yeah! Concerned about him."
"Concerned? Why?"
Good question. Marinette wasn't too sure how to answer. So, she just opted to tell the truth.
"Yeah, well, I just don't think he and the Lady Chloe are a good match… that's all." The moment the words left her mouth, she felt silly. Was she suddenly an expert on Prince Adrien's heart?
Alya leaning in closer to her. "You better be careful what you say." She warned. "Talk like that will get you in trouble."
"You're not going to turn me in are you, officer?" Marinette joked, pouring as much sarcasm in her voice as possible.
Alya laughed. "Yeah, yeah. You're public enemy number one, Marinette. Just chill out okay? You never know who could be listening."
Marinette sighed. "Honestly Alya, can you imagine the two of them together? It's just…"
"What? Do you think you'd be better for him?"
Marinette blushed a deep red. "Me? No! I'm not saying that… well, it just… umm, I don't know."
She paused and looked at the ground, playing with her hair out of nervousness.
"Alya, be honest with me: Do you think it could actually really happen? I mean really, could it? A Prince and a commoner?"
Alya eyed her friend suspiciously. "Do you think it could?"
Marinette blushed deeper and began digging the toe of her shoe in the ground. "I think it could happen…" she practically whispered at the ground
Alya wanted to shake her. The girl was living in a delusional fantasy. However, it seemed completely mean to take that fantasy away from her.
"I don't know Mari. I really just don't know." She sighed heavily. "Just don't hold your breath, okay?"
Marinette looked up and nodded. "Oh, I know. Trust me, I really do. It's just… fun to think about, isn't it?"
Marinette shook herself. "Sorry, things have been so crazy lately. I guess my mind has been wandering."
"More so than usual?" Alya teased.
Marinette giggled. "Yeah, if you can believe it?"
The girls said their goodbyes and Alya headed for her own home really quick before having to go back the Bourgeois' house. Marinette went inside to help her parents finish up for the day.
The bakery had been very slow all day. Business had actually been slow for some time. Marinette could tell it made her parents nervous.
As they stood around and silently worried about it, Marinette decided to change the subject and lift everyone's spirits. She finally told them about her experience at the Palace and her chance encounter with the crown Prince.
She thought her parents would pass out from the excitement. They must have asked her dozens of questions. They all began to talk at once—the conversation was cheerful and became downright silly.
"Did you tell him that your family owns a bakery? Did you?"
"Yes, of course I did, Pa'pa. The Bourgeois even gave him some of our pastries…"
"He ate our food!?"
"Ha! I knew that putting up with those snooty Bourgeois' for all these years would finally pay off! Ha ha!"
"Bring him some more of our food! Have him sample anything he wants! What do you think he's never had before?"
"Oh my god, no. Don't be ridiculous. He has private chefs to cook him anything he wants. He has all the luxuries in the world."
"Oh, great idea! Do you think he can get us an audience with the head chef of the royal kitchens?"
"Fantastic idea, dear!"
"Pa'pa, erm... I barely know him…"
"Marinette! You've made friends with royalty! This is huge!"
"I've literally met him twice…"
"Bring him some fruit tartlets next time. Oh! Better yet, the little cream filled puff pastries! Or would he prefer quiche?"
"Quit trying to stuff him full of pastries!"
"Oh! Or we have cookies, croissants, fresh rolls… Do you think royalty eat biscuits?"
"I don't know. I've never actually seen any of them eat…"
"What a nice young man to carry your things for you like that. Such a gentleman, right dear?"
"Oh, Ma'man please."
"Who would have thought the Prince would be so kind to our little Marinette?"
"Well, look at her, she's not a little girl anymore."
"He better not try anything funny…"
"Would you both stop it! It's not like that at all!"
"Oh Marinette, sweetie, don't be so modest! He obviously likes you."
"You tell me immediately if he tries anything…"
"Can we not be having his conversation right now please?"
They all laughed together and kept chit-chatting until the late afternoon. Marinette was glad she told them. She just hoped all the excitement didn't go to their heads.
She didn't mention to them about the conversation with the Royal Tailor about owning a portfolio. Certainly with business being slow right now, paper would be the last thing on their shopping list.
Marinette couldn't help but remember the stacks and stacks of paper that the Royal Tailor had just lying around his workspace. It was almost too much for one person to need in a whole lifetime!
Marinette glanced out the window, it would still be daylight another hour or two. Perhaps she had enough time to make it there and back?
"Tikki, come on. We're going out." She told her kwami quietly. Tikki was in the habit now of staying in her apron pocket or ridding along in her satchel. The kwami went everywhere with her now.
"Where are we going?" Tikki asked happily.
"Back to the palace." Marinette said.
"Ma'man, Pa'pa, I'm going out for a bit…" she called as she dusted herself off, grabbed her satchel bag, and headed out the door.
She was filled with a deep sense of purpose as she walked. She played out the conversation over and over in her mind. She knew exactly what she would say to him. If he wanted her to have a portfolio, then he was going to give her the tools she needed to create one.
With every step she took, it brought her closer and closer to the Palace and she grew more and more determined.
The sun was almost completely set by the time she made it to the Palace.
She knew the way now. She didn't get lost this time.
And yet, as she reached out to knock on the door to the office of the Royal Tailor, she felt weak in the knees.
"I can do this." She told herself.
Her knock was confident and she didn't wait for his response before she opened the door and entered the large room.
"Umm… pardon me, Monsieur? I'm not sure if you remember me from the other day?"
The man looked up and eyed her suspiciously. "Oh, yeah, I remember you." His voice was not particularly pleasant.
Marinette swallowed hard against a dry throat. "I promise, I won't take up too much of your time, but I was just wanting to kind of explain myself... and umm… what I mean is…"
Marinette was distracted as the man got up and began to move around the room. He was either blatantly ignoring her or extremely busy.
Marinette hoped is was the latter.
"… Umm, the other day, when I was here… you mentioned about seeing my portfolio?"
"Uh-huh." He remarked coldly.
"Well, the truth is… sir. I… umm… well I really don't…"
"You don't have a professional portfolio, do you?" he finished for her.
Marinette nodded her head in silent shame. "It's just, a lot of my ideas… they are just in my head, you know? I've been working under Monsieur Durand for some time now and I make all of my own clothes, as well as my family's… I've self-taught myself how to stitch and hem and do alterations…"
Marinette found herself rambling. She had to force herself to pause, take a breath and try to calm her nerves. She found her inner strength with that breath and when she spoke again, her voice was filled with determination.
This was her shot—and she had to take it.
"Sir, if you want the honest truth. I love designing. I think about it all the time. I draw my inspiration from nature and the world around me. It's been my dream ever since I was a little girl. I've been standing outside of dress-shop windows, looking in, my whole life. I know I don't have a professional portfolio or anything special like that. I just have what's in my head. If you would please give me the opportunity… I-I would like to show you what I can do."
The man stopped and looked at Marinette. He eyed her suspiciously but the young woman's tone of voice was what had caused him to actually pay attention to what she was saying.
"And here I thought you were just street-mouse the Prince had taken pity on."
Marinette drew back slightly at the comment. She tried to not let the surprise show on her face. Did the Prince really pity her? The idea was harsh, however, also probably quite true.
"No, sir." She said confidently.
"I only take on apprentices who can submit portfolios." He told her, waving her away once more with a simple flick of the wrist.
Marinette felt her heart sink a little bit. The rejection hurt, but it didn't break her spirit. She straightened herself up more.
"If you would just give me a chance, sir, please. If I could only borrow some materials… I would be able to show you what I can do."
The man was a bit surprised. She certainly was tenacious and had confidence in herself.
"Fine, fine. There is blank paper on the table over there." He pointed behind her. "Just take it and go."
Marinette's eyes doubled in size. She looked over her shoulder at the stack of blank paper behind her. Had she really heard him correctly?
"A-Are you serious?"
"Yeah, just take it before I change my mind…" He jumped slightly as the young woman threw her arms around him and hugged him warmly. He wasn't expecting the hug at all. Nor had he expected how fast she had moved to suddenly be close enough to hug him.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you so very much, sir. I promise you won't regret this!"
The man smiled at her. Her warm personality was a bit infectious. He watched her rush over and carefully select a few rolls of paper. Carefully rolling them together, she put them in her bag. She was being very modest with the quantity she was taking.
"Take more. I've got plenty." He urged.
Her wide eyes looked back at him again in surprise. "Okay." She said, taking another few more.
Slipping the bag over her shoulder, she went for the door. "Thank you so very much, Monsieur. You are very kind." With those words, she left.
The Royal tailor watched her go and suddenly realized he was still smiling. Well, she certainly did light up a room.
Marinette got a few steps away from the door and pushed herself up against a wall to let the shock of what just happened settle down a bit. She couldn't believe she had just marched in there and demanded he give her the materials she requested. It was quite a spectacular feeling.
This was a huge step for her.
For so long her dream was just that… a dream. Something to fantasize about and never act upon. Being Ladybug seemed to give Marinette this new-found sense of purpose. Maybe it was Ladybug, maybe it wasn't.
Perhaps it had been there this whole time? And she just never knew how to draw it out of hiding? Be that as it may, all she knew right now was that she liked this extension of herself.
A/N: Here is an advanced warning. The next chapter will be very dark and contain adult themes. It is the reason why I gave this story its 'T' rating. Just be prepared.
I hope everyone is enjoying my tale so far. Thank you for all for the wonderful encouragement. I read every review posted and I completely adore any feedback: positive or negative.