Thirteen Years Ago
Emilie grinned from ear to ear at the sight before her. The townsfolk were bustling about, some stopping to chat warmly with the merchants, others stopping to help an older woman pick up her dropped groceries. Children weaved through them, their joyous shrieks penetrating through the sound of the general street chatter. Mothers gripped their children's hands tightly as they walked them from stand to stand, the kids' eyes wide with wonder.
Emilie glanced down at her own wondrous child. Although he was wearing an enormous hat to hide the upper portion of his face, she could see her eight year old was in awe. Being cooped up within the castle walls all the time was suffocating the poor boy. He wanted to go out and see the towns, see the people. Sure, he'd been here before during the royal processions, but this was different. Nobody knew they were there. The townsfolk just went about their lives as they normally did, and Adrien was finally able to stand among them. This small town domestic life was what Adrien truly craved to see.
"Do you want to walk around a bit, honey? Maybe we can go buy something," Emilie suggested.
Adrien beamed up at her, his emerald eyes gleaming from under his hat. He nodded enthusiastically. Emilie readjusted her own hat to hide her face better before gripping her son's hand tightly and walking him to the nearest merchant stand.
The middle-aged man smiled warmly at them. "Good afternoon," he greeted. Can I interest you in some fruit? These berries were picked fresh this morning." Emilie looked down at her son. He seemed to be looking for something. The merchant noticed too. "Is there something in particular you'd like?" he asked him.
Adrien was slightly shy, but he spoke up nevertheless. "Do you have any apples, sir?" he asked politely.
The merchant smiled at the boy's manners, but he shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm fresh out of apples." At Adrien's slightly slumped shoulders, he continued. "But, I know where you could maybe find some. That bakery," he pointed directly behind them, "makes a lot of treats using apples from the local orchard. If it's just apples you want, I'm sure they'll have some. Otherwise, I'd recommend trying their apple pie. It's delicious."
Adrien grinned. "Pie?" he asked excitedly. "Maman, can we go to the bakery? Please?"
Emilie sighed fondly. "You and your sweet tooth… Of course we can baby." She kindly thanked the merchant and they headed toward the bakery.
A small bell chimed when Emilie pushed the door open, and they were welcomed by the sweet scent of homemade pastries. A kind looking woman behind the counter greeted them as they walked further into the small shop.
"Hello there. Can I help you with anything?" the woman asked.
Emilie returned the smile the woman offered. "We heard from across the street that you offer some tasty apple pastries." Not a moment after the words left her mouth, Adrien broke away from her and wandered over to the side wall. He gaped at the multitude of pastries packed onto the shelves lining the walls. He recognized some of them, but most of the goods were unfamiliar to him. Either way, he wanted to try them all.
Emilie and the woman chuckled at the amazed boy. "Well it seems he's already found them," the woman mused. Emilie walked up to the counter and began chatting with the woman, but Adrien didn't seem to notice. He wandered aimlessly as he scanned the walls, absolutely in awe. In the castle, his meals were prepared for him. If he wanted something specific, he asked for it, and they made it for him. He'd never had the experience of going to a store and just browsing their options, finding something he liked, and buying it. He was overwhelmed by the choices in front of him. He knew he couldn't just buy everything at once, but he really, really wanted to.
Adrien heard footsteps, and he turned his head toward the sound. A young girl had just exited from what appeared to be the kitchen, balancing a large plate of pastries in her small hands. She ducked below the counter hatch, leaning forward as she did so. However, she leaned a bit too far and started stumbling forward, straight towards Adrien. He instinctively raced forward and grabbed her arm with one hand, stopping the fall and steadying her, the other hand supporting her grip on the plate so the pastries didn't scatter across the floor. He didn't realize his hat had fallen off.
The girl appeared a bit startled from almost falling, but when she looked up to meet his eyes, she looked downright shocked.
"Woah," she whispered. "Maman, look at his eyes!" she exclaimed. "They're so pretty!"
Sabine and Emilie had witnessed the encounter, and the moment Sabine saw the young boy's eyes, she put her hands over her mouth as she realized just who the mother and son duo in her bakery actually were.
"Oh my-" She looked to Emilie. "Your-Your Majesty?! I-I didn't realize-" Sabine moved to bow to the other woman, but Emilie grabbed her hands to stop her.
"It's okay, Sabine. That's not necessary. And please," she added, "call me Emilie." Sabine's eyes widened and she opened her mouth to protest, but Emilie cut her off. "I insist." Sabine looked astounded. She'd grown up under the rule of Emilie's father, and she was now raising her daughter under the rule of the woman in front of her, both people known for being exceptionally kind and warm-hearted. She couldn't believe she now had the honor to have the Queen herself and the Prince in her bakery. She had no words.
Marinette, on the other hand, was oblivious to this revelation. She set the plate down on a nearby table and faced Adrien again. "Wow, thanks for catching me! It would've been bad if I fell." She noticed his hat on the ground and bent to pick it up. She held it out to him. "Here you go, but you shouldn't wear such a big hat. It hides your pretty eyes," she commented.
Adrien flushed at the compliment and took the hat from her
"I'm Marinette," she continued. "What's your name?"
"Adrien."
"Ooo, like the Prince? That's cool," Marinette mused, still not connecting the dots just yet. "Hey, Adrien, do you wanna help me put the pastries on the shelves?" She offered him a bright smile.
Adrien couldn't help but stare in wonder at the girl. She was talking to him, without his face hidden, and she still treated him like he was… normal. Equal. Just your average kid. Hearing another person his age refer to him as just Adrien ‒not Prince Adrien, not Your Highness‒ made him feel warm inside. He'd never had the chance to really make friends with anyone ‒the only other person his age was his cousin Felix, and their relationship was strained to say the least‒ so the offer to do something even as mundane as stocking shelves with another kid made him feel ecstatic. It made him feel normal.
He nodded enthusiastically, and Marinette clapped her hands together before explaining to him the different sections of the bakery and where certain pastries were supposed to go. Emilie smiled fondly as she watched her son, the Prince of France, nearly bouncing on his feet at the prospect of being able to stock the shelves of a bakery. Emilie turned to Sabine.
"Would you mind if we came again?"
Adrien's stomach churned with nerves. He paced back and forth along one of the paths in the orchard, Marinette sitting on the ground in front of him. In the past few years of their friendship, Marinette had only seen Adrien this nervous a handful of times. Taking him to the orchard usually calmed him down. She reached into her basket and offered him the reddest, ripest apple she could find, but he refused it.
Uh oh, this must be serious.
"Adrien, you're going to be fine. Haven't you met other royals before?" Marinette asked.
"Yeah, but that was different. I was pretty young at the time, so my mom did most of the talking." Adrien brought his hands up to his temples as he continued to pace. "Mari, they're gonna be scrutinizing me the entire time. I'm supposed to be the King one day, but what if I screw up and then they hate me and then in forty years France will lose the British as an ally because I was stupid-"
"Adrien, look at me." He stopped walking and met her eyes. "You're overthinking this," she said pointedly. He sighed and continued pacing, obviously not convinced. "Look, you're like, eleven. There's no way they can expect you to be perfect."
"Well my own country expects me to be perfect, so why should they think any different?" he mumbled.
Marinette huffed. He did have a point, the Emerald superstition put a lot of pressure on him, but she wasn't about to let that fuel his nerves even further. "Look, they're royalty too. They probably understand more than anyone just how human you guys actually are. Besides, you're still learning how to be a monarch. They can't expect you to be prepared to take the throne any time soon, you're just a kid. So any mistakes you might make now, I'm sure they'll forgive once you're older."
Adrien slowed his pacing and glanced at her. "Really?"
Marinette smiled. "Really."
Adrien gave a small nod. He paused for a moment before holding out his hand. Marinette suppressed a grin as she handed the apple over. Adrien took a large bite and chewed thoughtfully. He swallowed before speaking again. "I guess I'm just nervous I'm going to address them wrong. Royal women can get really insulted if you do that."
Marinette tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
Adrien bit his lip as he began pacing again. "When you speak to royal women, you address them based on their status and who they get that status from. Generally, married women who get their status from their husbands would be called Madam, and unmarried women, or daughters of royalty, would be called Miss. But lately, Miss has become more of a common honorific, so maybe My Lady would be more appropriate… but isn't that one interchangeable between married and unmarried women? I wouldn't want to offend anyone by not calling them Madam or call them Miss if it's become an informal term…" Adrien rambled as he buried a hand in his hair and began stressing out again.
Marinette didn't exactly process most of what he said, but she was going to work with what she did understand.
"Look, if you're afraid you're gonna mess up on titles, then why don't we practice?"
Adrien stopped. "What?"
Marinette stood. "I'll pretend to be a royal woman, and you'll have to greet me according to the status I tell you." Adrien just raised his eyebrows at her. "Ugh, just go along with it. It'll help, I promise." She took the apple from his hand and threw it in the basket. She grabbed his shoulders and positioned him right in front of her. "Now, I'm the princess of Great Britain. I'm young, and I'm unmarried. Now, how would you greet me?"
Adrien stood awkwardly for a moment before giving a small bow. Marinette put a finger to his nose and pushed him back upright.
"Hey!" Adrien pouted and held a hand to his nose.
"Try again. You're too stiff. You need to be relaxed, but still respectful," Marinette advised.
A loud bird began cawing overhead. "Sorry, but it's a little hard getting into character." A light breeze rustled the leaves in the orchard, adding to the distracting noises.
Marinette crossed her arms. "Doesn't matter. If you can manage to do it in these conditions, then you'll do just fine during the real thing. Now, try again."
Adrien closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He thought this was stupid, honestly, but if Marinette really wanted him to play along, he would. He opened his eyes and plastered on a very fake and overexaggerated smile. The corners of her lips twitched.
"Princess Marinette." He bowed lowly.
She lifted the skirt of an imaginary dress in a bow as well. "Prince Adrien." She was having a hard time suppressing a grin.
He straightened slightly and reached for her hand, bowing low again to place a small kiss on the back. "My apple-ogies, My Lady, for my rudeness earlier. If you need anything, I'll be right be-cider you in a heartbeat."
Marinette finally cracked. They both burst into laughter and soon found themselves rolling on the ground, wiping stray tears from their eyes.
They spent the rest of the afternoon making apple puns and wandering the orchard, Adrien's nerves completely forgotten.