"Are you awake?" the voice asked. It was gentle, soft, barely above a whisper, but wrapped around the silence and filled Marinette's boudoir.

She gaped, her lips moving around words which lost all volume before leaving her mouth. Finally, she swallowed down her erratic breaths and managed to find her speech. "Who? What?" she squeaked, scrambling to sit up. Her feet were tangled in her sheets, and in effort to free herself she nearly fell out of bed.

"Calm down," said the voice, edged with worry. "I won't hurt you."

"Who are you?" Marinette yelped, not feeling remotely calm. She wrenched open her curtains but she couldn't see anything in the murky darkness. "What do you want?"

"Only to talk," the voice replied. "You seem upset."

"Of course I'm upset!" she snapped. "There's some creep in my room! Where's that tinderbox…" Blindly, she thrust her arm out, quickly locating her candle. Just as her fingers found the edge of the tinderbox, the voice called out again.

"Please, don't." Was that fear in the voice? A quiver of desperation? "You have nothing to fear. I won't harm you."

"Why should I believe you?" She held her breath, waiting for an answer, but none came. She scooped up the tinderbox and fumbled to open it. "Where are you?" she called, topping the contents onto her lap and feeling desperately for the fire steel.

"By the door. I won't come any closer."

Marinette paused. The voice sounded sincere. "And you won't hurt me?"

"No."

Marinette took a few seconds to regulate her breathing. A mysterious voice in her room was hardly the strangest thing that had happened today. "If you're not here to hurt me," she said, sitting up again and squinting into the black room, "what do you want?"

"To talk."

"Talk?" She blinked. "Why?"

"Because you look sad, and a lady as yourself shouldn't be sad."

"I'm not a lady," she said bluntly. "If you're not a servant then why are you here? Unless-" Her heart missed a beat. "You're not that snake-thing, are you?"

A brief pause. "The what?"

Relief flooded her chest. "The beast parading around as master of the house. You must have noticed it."

"It's a large house."

"It's a large beast." Marinette pulled the blanket up around her shoulders and curled her knees to her chest. She should be terrified; there was a disembodied voice in her room in the middle of the night. But for some reason she wasn't—not anymore. The voice sounded so kind, so caring. And not only that, it sounded human, which brought a sort of comfort to the castle inhabited by creatures. It also reminded her a little of Adrien. Her heart twinged with longing to be home again.

"Please," said the voice. "Tell me about yourself."

"Me?" Marinette looked to where she imagined the voice to be, but no matter how hard she stared there was nothing but a wall of blackness. "Why would you want to hear about me?"

"It's been so long since I've talked to someone. At least, like this."

"What about Tikki? And Plagg? And the other servants?" she asked. "Can't you talk to them?"

"Not like this." The voice grew quieter. "Please?"

"I'm only a baker's daughter," she said. "There's nothing to say, really."

"Only a baker's daughter." A light chuckle tickled the air. "What are your parents like?"

Marinette pursed her lips. She didn't want to reply. She didn't want to think about her parents, or her village, or her friends. She didn't want to think about what she'd been forced to leave behind. "I'm sorry," she finally managed. "I don't really want to-"

"I understand," came the reply. "I'm sorry."

The voice sounded truly apologetic, cracking slightly. Marinette wanted to reach out and reassure whoever it was that it wasn't their fault; it was the master's. Or Plagg's. "It's strange talking to a voice with no name," she ventured after a few moments.

"You haven't told me yours either."

She allowed a small smile. "Marinette. Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"That's a curious name."

"My maman isn't from this country. I suppose really I'm Marinette Dupain, but I like to remember maman's heritage too. What's yours?"

"French."

Marinette giggled; it sounded loud in the quiet room. "I meant your name."

"That's not important. What's important is that you're smiling again."

Marinette felt a warmth crawl up her face; her cheeks were hot under her hands. Before she could argue that his name was important and that she really did want to know it, a yawn forced its way out of her mouth.

"You should sleep," said the voice. "Goodnight, lady Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Goodnight," she murmured, leaning back onto her pillows. She shut her eyes and waited for the noise of a door opening and closing, but it never came.

The next thing Marinette was aware of was a shaft of sunlight burning her eyelids. She awoke with a groan and pulled her blankets over her head to block the light out. Someone laughed lightly.

"Come on, Marinette. Time to wake up! I've brought you breakfast."

It was Tikki, waiting patiently by the desk next to a steaming tray of food. Marinette yawned and rubbed her bleary eyes as she sat up and looked around the room. Still in the castle in a bedroom befitting a princess. Still no closer to getting home.

She glanced at the door, firmly shut next to the wardrobe, and found herself smiling. A voice was whispering in her head, but not her voice. Then she remembered the conversation she'd had last night with seemingly no one. Was it a dream, or reality?

Shaking her head to clear away the grogginess, Marinette slipped out of bed and made her way to the desk. "Hey, Tikki," she said, sitting down. "Who else lives here?"

"What do you mean?" Tikki asked.

"I mean, there's you, and the…the master." Marinette shuddered involuntarily as she helped herself to some fresh bread. "Who else lives here?"

"There are a few other servants… You know Plagg, he's a footman along with Mullo. Then there's Wayzz, he's the butler; Pollen is the housekeeper; Duusu the cook. Then there are the maids: Fluff, Ziggy, Barkk, Roarr, Kalki and Longg. Stompp, Daizzi, and Xuppu are stableboys—not that there are any horses to attend to. Trixx is the game keeper, although his job is rather redundant at the moment. He mostly helps Nooroo, the head gardener and Orikko the groundskeeper. They need all the help they can get now that they're no longer human…"

"No longer human?" Marinette echoed, glad to latch onto some interesting information amongst the list of names she was no doubt going to forget. "You mean you—the servants used to be human?"

Tikki had the decency to look abashed. "Whoops, I probably wasn't meant to say that…"

"What happened, Tikki?" she asked. "How did you become…like you are now?"

"You, um, you really should talk to the master about this," Tikki replied, avoiding her eye. "Please give him another chance."

It was Marinette's turn to avoid eye contact as she turned her head away. "I don't think so, Tikki." She gingerly picked up another piece of food, a plump cherry, and chewed thoughtfully. After nibbling the flesh away she spat the stone out into her hand and dropped it on the plate. "Is there anyone one else in the castle?"

"No. Just the servants and the master."

"Oh."

Marinette had tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, but failed because Tikki adopted a concerned expression. "Is something wrong?"

"No. It's just…last night…" She hesitated. Should she tell Tikki? Or would this be better kept to herself? She liked the idea of having a secret as Tikki seemed to be keeping so many from her. But at the same time she was desperate to find out more about the voice, whoever it belonged to.

"Last night?" Tikki repeated, hovering closer.

"I…heard a voice. In my room. But the voice told me it—he?—wasn't a servant. And it definitely wasn't the master"

Tikki frowned, pondering this. "Maybe it was just a dream, Marinette," she suggested. "Are you sure it wasn't a voice you recognised? Maybe someone from your village? I'm sure you miss them."

Marinette fingered another cherry and tried to hear the voice in her head. Light, gentle, but with an irresistible depth. "It sounded a little like Adrien, I suppose."

"There you go then. Nothing more than a dream. Will you be venturing out of your room today?"

She gave Marinette a pointed look, though a smile tugged at her mouth. Marinette giggled awkwardly and rubbed the back of her head. "I'll try… I wouldn't mind a tour. I didn't get much of a look around the other day."

"Of course."

Whilst Marinette finished her breakfast, Tikki prepared her a warm bath. When she had soaked for a while and washed her body, Marinette was forced into another elegant dress— this one forest green—and ushered out of her bed chambers.

The corridors were as she remembered. Long, brightly lit, and hung with grand portraits and tapestries. Tikki flew ahead of her and began leading her through the castle, telling her about some of the paintings, although she mostly commented on the quality of the pictures or how pretty their dresses were instead of who was actually wearing them. Tikki also pointed out several rooms: bedrooms and receptions and withdrawal rooms. Galleries and libraries and antechambers. She directed her attention to a few tiny doors, sometimes hidden behind bookcases or disguised as part of the walls, which led to the servants quarters or kitchen.

"So the maids can move through the house without being seen," Tikki said brightly as Marinette pulled one open and peered into the cramped corridor beyond. "I remember using these when I first began working."

"When was that?" Marinette asked conversationally, closing the door again. But Tikki didn't reply.

They soon stumbled across a floating green turtle inspecting a shelf in the main library. When he saw Marinette, he nodded deeply and smiled.

"Ahh, mademoiselle Marinette. An honour to meet you," he said. "I am Wayzz."

"You're the butler," Marinette replied, pleased she managed to remember the name. "Pleased to meet you too."

Wayzz decided to join them on their tour. Unlike Tikki, he had a lot more knowledge of the castle to pass on, from stories about each person in the portraits, to the origins of each tapestry and the meaning behind the designs decorating the ceilings. As interesting as Marinette was sure his lecture was, she soon grew bored of his droning. Her mind wandered as they made their way through the north tower. She thought about the other servants, and wondered if she'd ever meet them. She wondered about the master and where he currently was, whilst hoping she wouldn't bump into him.

But most of all, she wondered about the voice in her room. Who was he? If he wasn't a servant, then what was he doing in the castle? Why didn't he tell her his name, and how did he not know the master?

Marinette didn't realise she had completely spaced out until she walked into Tikki and nearly knocked her out the air. At this point, the lady's maid determined that it was time for lunch and led Marinette back to her room.

"You seem distracted, Marinette," she remarked after fetching her lunch tray. "Are you still thinking about that dream?"

Marinette sighed, prodding a cube of cheese. "It wasn't a dream, Tikki. I was awake. I'm sure of it."

"You're in a stressful situation. You probably fell asleep without realising it." Tikki was sitting on the windowsill, her tiny red back against the glass. "But if you were awake, you really ought to ask the master."

Bristling, Marinette dropped her fork and scowled. "I don't want to talk to him."

"Just one conversation?" Tikki pleaded. "I promise he won't hurt you. He won't come near you if you don't want him to."

"I don't want him near me. I don't want him in the same room as me," she snapped.

Suddenly, the bedchamber felt too small, and her body was burning up beneath her dress. Leaving her meal only half-finished, again, Marinette stood abruptly and swept towards the door. She scooped up the beaten, brown shoes she'd worn when she'd first arrived and stormed out of the room.

As well as providing ample distraction, the tour meant she was a little more confident in moving around the castle unaccompanied. Despite Tikki's worried cries, Marinette surged down the nearest staircase and towards the entrance hall, pausing only to slip on her shoes.

The front doors were less imposing than they had been the other night. The wood was a dark, warm shade of brown, and the early afternoon sun shone through a stained-glass window on top, painting a pretty pattern of red and blue on the floor. Hoping it wasn't locked at this time, Marinette marched across the room and yanked on the door. It swung open soundlessly.

A wide, gravel path led down a slight hill, disappearing into the distant forest. Swaths of bright green grass covered the ground like a blanket, wrapping around the castle. Hedges, neatly trimmed, towered high into the sky. Some were typical shapes—spirals; squares; tapered cylinders—but when Marinette veered right to explore the grounds, she found several that had been carefully sculpted into animals, including a peacock; a cat; a monkey; and—she shivered—a snake.

When she had been walking for ten minutes, and was quite immersed in tamed nature, Marinette stopped and took a few deep breaths. Her room had been quite stifling, but being outside in the cool, crisp air had managed to calm her down. Part of her—a traitorous part—realised that this wasn't such a bad life. Free reign over a magnificent castle and its splendiferous grounds; delicious food served three times a day; beautiful dresses to wear; a warm bath each morning. But the bigger part of her mind was desperate to get home and far away from the master. Immediately, she felt guilty for even thinking about how nice life could be at the castle. Now while her family and friends were still in the village, with no idea where she'd gone or if she was even alive.

She was in turmoil. Marinette knew her emotions were spiralling, constantly changing. One moment she was content to listen to the knowledgeable ramblings of a flying human-turned-turtle, the next she was storming away from the only real friend she had here because she didn't want to talk to the castle's master who had been kind enough to give her shelter, food and clothing for nothing in return.

But he had licked her, and scratched her, and frightened the life out of her, so he couldn't be all good.

Marinette blinked and shook her head then continued on. The landscape morphed from organised hedges and geometric shapes to bursts of colour, rustling bushes, and large ponds wrinkled with silver. She came to rest beneath a huge tree, the canopy of which was so heavy it dipped into the water. The leaves were beginning to turn golden on top.

Marinette settled herself by the trunk, facing the pond, and admired how the world was perfectly reflected. She wished she had something to draw with, and made a mental note to ask Tikki later if there were some art supplies somewhere she could borrow.

She wasn't sure how long she sat out there, watching the world turn without her. The sun slowly fell through the sky, sending shadows crawling along the ground. A breeze picked up, and despite her dress' long sleeves, Marinette soon began to feel the chill in her arms. She knew she should head inside to warm up before she caught a cold, but she wasn't ready to move yet. Time seemed to stand still in the castle, but out here she could mark the day's progress and prove that she was still alive, still part of the earth. And when she looked up at the wisps of clouds billowing on the wind, it brought comfort to think that on the other side of the vast forest, her parents might be looking at the same clouds.