CHAPTER TWENTY:

MARINETTE'S RETURN

When the grassy road rose up along the hill, and the small town of Villeneuve came into full view, Marinette almost smiled.

The cobblestone streets and shingled rooftops were no longer covered in snow. Everything was all bright and airy, and the church bells chimed the late morning hours right on schedule. And when Marinette entered the village itself and found herself surrounded by people going about their business… she realized that nothing had changed in the three and a half months she had been away.

But she had. She had changed.

Sitting up there on her horse, in her glistening red gown and cloak… Marinette felt more out of place than ever. Several eyes that looked up at her went wide with awe and recognition, as though they were seeing an angel descending from the heavens. There was the fisherman's wife – gruff as usual. There was Monsieur Fu, the teamaker, who beamed at Marinette and welcomed her as though she hadn't been away at all. There was even little Manon chasing a bunch of shrieking chickens, laughing herself silly while her mother Nadja exchanged a few words with a nomadic merchant.

Everyone was going about their business, just like they always did.

While a part of Marinette welcomed the familiar sights and sounds and faces, the other part couldn't help but feel… disappointed.

What was I expecting? the blunette thought as she urged her stallion further into town, in the direction of the local bakery. A "Welcome home!" party where everyone would be thrilled to see me back?

Alya was right – they all acted like Marinette had never left to begin with. They didn't know… because they didn't care.

But Marinette told herself she wasn't here to please them. Not anymore. She was here for her family. That's all that mattered.

The bakery, at least, had the decency to lift her spirits. The entire place had been renovated with new walls and windows, and had been painted a creamy shade of cornflower blue. Workers wore aprons that bore the initials "T+S" in golden thread. They unloaded a wagon of boxes and carried them through the jingling door. When Marinette dismounted and stepped onto the front porch, the wooden boards didn't protest under her shoes. Peering through the window, she saw customers being handed bags and parcels of pastries by three young people standing behind the counter. They all looked to be about Marinette's age, and they greeted everyone with sweet smiles.

Marinette couldn't stop smiling in turn. Her parents' dream had finally come true! They had a large, profitable business!

And yet, there was that small part of her that wished she had been here to see it all grow.

"You there!" blurted a snooty voice that struck a chord in Marinette's memory. "Are you lost? You must be new here, because it's not polite to peek in on other people… unless it's something really interesting."

Marinette almost laughed. She doesn't recognize me! Well, she's in for a sweet surprise.

Removing her hood, she turned around and offered a refined grin to the group of young ladies standing behind her. Each one was dressed in matching spring dresses of different colours: pink, green, blue, and yellow. "Bonjour to you, too, Chloe," Marinette said to the young, blonde-haired woman standing at the front like a golden statue.

At once, the unblemished face of Chloe Bourgeois went white with shock, and she made a high-pitched sucking sound through her throat as her mouth dropped wide open. "Mar… Marinette Dupain-Cheng?!" she rasped so loudly that several heads turned in their direction.

Yep. She never fails to attract an audience.

Beside the mayor's daughter, her three cohorts – Sabrina, Aurore and Mireille – gaped at Marinette with matching bewildered expressions.

"She's back?" Sabrina whispered unsubtly.

"I thought she was dead," Aurore admitted.

"I love her dress!" Mireille sighed with a smile.

Chloe paid her companions no heed and just continued to stare aghast at Marinette, her baby-blue eyes grazing over her fancy new clothes with newfound jealousy. Finally, she huffed and said with a sneer, "Well, well… Look who finally decided to show her pretty face back in town. So, Marinette… why the sudden departure? Half of town was saying you went and squandered off your parents' newfound fortune, and got kicked out of town out of shame."

There was a good bet that Chloe had started that little rumour in the first place. Marinette placed her hands on her hips. "Funny," she said. "Sounds like something you would do, Chloe. Far be it from a girl like me to rise up to your level."

The three girls sucked in sharp breaths.

Chloe huffed again. "I see you're still as insolent as ever, trying to be better than the rest of us," she noted scornfully. "Which reminds me: wherever did you get that dress? Those crystals alone are worth a fortune… and certainly not accessible to anyone lower than a duke. What'd you do, Marinette – charm some stuffed-shirt old man into making you his mistress?"

Marinette knew Chloe was only trying to get under her skin and make another scene, especially now that there were more people watching. Whatever was spoken between them would travel by word-of-mouth, so Marinette knew she had to dance around this delicately. "Where I've been and who I've been with is none of your concern, Chloe Bourgeois. In fact, I distinctly recall you mentioning that you didn't care about what ignorant peasants did with their lives. That our lives are so "plain and dull", if memory serves."

Chloe turned as red as a tomato, and her lips twisted together into an ugly frown.

"Now, if you ladies will excuse me," Marinette swept into an extravagant curtsy that would have made Adrien proud, "my father is gravely ill, and I must go and see him at once. Good day to you all." And with that, she climbed back onto her horse and took off down the street.

She didn't look back, but she did hear a loud grumble of "Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous!", which made her grin.


Theo was brooding again.

And brooding made him thirsty, which is why he was at The Sleeping Fox, having a few rounds of Otto's homebrewed ale – the best in all of Villeneuve.

But not even Theo's favourite pint lifted his spirits… and everyone knew why.

It had been over three months, and there was still no sign of Marinette.

It made no sense to Theo. She couldn't have just disappeared so suddenly! he thought bitterly as he took another foamy swig of his drink. And there's no way she could've survived those accursed woods all on her own! Someone must have gone with her… but who?

It bothered him so much, mainly because no one would give him any answers. None that he wanted to hear, anyway. Marinette's father was all hush-hush about the whole thing, and that bard friend of hers had told Theo to back off more than once. Not even her best friend – Otto's own daughter – gave any hints as to Marinette's whereabouts, though Theo suspected that the spicy redhead knew a lot more than she was letting on.

It didn't help that Chloe Bourgeois was constantly squandering Marinette's good name now that she was gone. Marinette loved her parents too much to run away. Moreover, Theo knew that if she had the temerity to turn him down, she certainly wouldn't have taken up with some woodcutter's son or whatever disgraceful suitors Chloe invented just to stir up a bit of gossip.

If she's out there somewhere, Theo had concluded one day, it's not of her own free will. Someone took her – I just know it! The only question was who… and why it was being kept such a secret by her close friends and family.

Now, Theo lay slouched over the arms of the big leather chair in the inn's main lobby, ignoring the raucous noise of the lunch hour rush while he sipped half-heartedly at his mug of ale.

If he had an army, he would march straight through the forest and venture beyond that blasted veil of fog that always misdirected him. But Theo's search party had broken off little by little every time they came back empty-handed. Even his own friends, Kim and Max…

As though he had summoned them by mere thought alone, the two young hunters appeared unexpectedly at their former leader's side.

"Theo!" Kim blurted.

The sleek-haired hunter swung his mug at him in self-defense, but Kim dodged just in time. The mug slipped from Theo's fingers and went skidding along the wooden floor, spilling ale everywhere. Half of the lobby paused to get a glance at the commotion.

Theo sighed with a grumble and rubbed a hand through his unkempt hair. When was the last time he washed it? He couldn't recall. "What do you two want?" he groaned. "Come to try and "bring me back to my senses" again?"

Max lifted a finger. "Precisely!" he replied happily. "And this newly-acquired news is sure to rouse you from your wretchedness."

Theo angled his head into his fist and stared up at them. "What news?" he asked. He wasn't in the mood for any news except…

"It's Marinette!" Kim exclaimed, clutching his own fists together. "She's back, Theo!"

He wasn't sure if it was the ale in his bloodstream, or the sound of that beautiful girl's name on his friend's lips. Maybe both. But one second, Theo was hunched over and dulled beyond belief. The next second, he was up on his feet, alive and alert like he was on the hunt.

"What did you say?" Theo gripped Max's shoulders, his coffee-brown eyes going clear for the first time in weeks. "Say it again!"

"Marinette," Max clarified as carefully as he could. "Marinette is back in town."


The manor on the far side of town stood like a pale white pearl surrounded by a lush courtyard of trees, bushes and fountains.

Not as grand as Adrien's castle, obviously, but still clean and respectable – a symbol of unconditional wealth.

Marinette tried not to stare too long as the black-stone roof and tall white pillars as she came to a stop in the front lawn. A stable boy no older than ten rushed over and took the stallions reins before bowing to Marinette with a freckle-faced smile. She thanked him and strode up to the front door, which was completely made of hand-carved mahogany.

With a deep breath, she knocked three times, just hard enough to be heard.

A few more breaths later, the door unlocked and slid open to reveal a tall, dark-haired woman wearing spectacles. The housekeeper? Her expression was modest, but her blue eyes were serious as she ran them over Marinette. "May I help you, mademoiselle?" she asked professionally.

The blunette drew herself up. "My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she stated. "I'm here to see my father. I heard he was –"

"Marinette?!" came a fleeting voice from inside.

Her heart leapt into her throat. "Maman?" she called, pushing past the now-astounded housekeeper and entering the entrance hall.

The space was small but, again, respectable, with black and white accents and decorative designs scattered all around to give it a cozy touch. To the right, a narrow staircase with a metal railing led up to the second floor.

Standing in the middle of the stairs, one hand on the railing and the other on her heart, was Sabine Cheng. Though she looked like a noblewoman in that peach-coloured dress with flowery orange accents, the rounded face, midnight-blue hair and silvery eyes marked her as the humble wife of a baker.

Mother and daughter stared at each other in silence, both afraid to speak or breathe simply out of the fear that this was just an illusion; a fevered dream.

Then, Sabine cleared her throat and said with gentle assertiveness, "Nathalie, could you please draw up some tea and bring it upstairs?"

"Certainly, Madame," the housekeeper replied coolly. She closed the door behind Marinette and stalked off, her high heels clopping against the pale, wooden floorboards.

The moment Natalie was gone, Marinette smiled up at the woman standing before her. "Maman… it's really me," she said, her voice almost breaking and her eyes threatening to spill tears. "I came back, just like I promised."

Sabine let out a shudder before descending the rest of the stairs rapidly towards her daughter. "Sweetheart!" She said nothing else as she opened out her arms and wrapped them tightly around Marinette, who returned the gesture happily. She even smelled the same, like freshly-baked cookies.

Something like thunder rumbled from upstairs, and then… "Marinette? Is that you?" That cheery, spicy tone was as clear as day.

Marinette looked up and saw Alya leaning against the top tailing and staring down at her friend with profound joy and relief. At the same time, another dark-skinned figure appeared beside the redhead, his brown eyes widening behind his glasses with something like brotherly pride.

"Bluebell!" Nino practically cheered. "I knew you'd be back!"

Marinette laughed as her two best friends came barreling down the stairs and embraced her in a suffocating group hug. Sabine stood aside, smiling and wiping away happy tears.

Alya was the last to let go. "Oh, Marinette – look at you! Did you make that dress? It's gorgeous! How was the trip home? Did you bring anyone with you?" Her eyes gleamed mischievously at that last question.

Marinette ignored the soft lump forming in her chest. "No, I came alone," she said. She then turned to her mother seriously. The time for reunions would wait. "Maman, where's Papa?"


The master bedroom was bright and cool… and it wreaked of sickness.

Sabine shooed the maid and physician away for a few minutes to give the family some alone time, and they didn't object once.

Once they were alone, Marinette approached the large bed slowly, her eyes trained on her father lying amongst the heavy sheets. Her mother, Alya and Nino observed wordlessly from the open threshold.

Tom was asleep, his beefy arms exposed and folded over his chest. His brown moustache contrasted so darkly against his leeched complexion, as did the faint black circles bordering his eyes. He looked like he was wasting away bit by bit.

Marinette trembled, but didn't stop until she reached her father's side. She gazed down at him, swallowing hard.

Back when she was treating an injured Cat Noir, she hadn't been fazed at all by sight of his grisly wound. Now, looking at her sickly father made her stomach curdle. Maybe it was because Marinette hadn't been helpless last time. She had helped Adrien get better; restored him to his normal, better self. Here, she had no idea how to treat a sudden illness. All she could do was watch… and pray.

Well, if that's all that it took, she would do it.

Marinette took a seat on the edge of the bed, taking her father's large hand in her own. It was so cold. "Papa?" she called softly. "Papa… It's me."

Tom groaned and shifted. His eyelids fluttered open, and Marinette was shocked to see the sclera were a pale shade of yellow. He really was sick. Tom breathed for a few moments as he blinked up curiously at the girl sitting beside him. "Marinette…" he sighed.

"Shhhh," Marinette reached over with her other hand and stroked his cheek, her thumb brushing his moustache. "It's all right, Papa."

Tom blinked again. And again. Then, his eyes widened. "You're… You're… Is this… Are you…"

Marinette smiled and nodded. "I'm here. I'm home."

She heard her mother's footsteps behind her, and then Sabine's hand on her shoulder.

"Our daughter's back, Tom," she said with hushed joy. "Our baby girl's come back to us."

Tom's fingers grasped Marinette's weakly, but the message was clear. He was testing to see if she was real. When it was clear to him that his daughter wasn't a ghost or a hallucination, the baker's face crumpled with a mixture of happiness and grief, and tears flooded out of the corners of his dark-green eyes.

"I thought…" He coughed and settled back down with a profound smile. "I thought I'd never see you again, ma cherie."

Suddenly, Marinette couldn't stop her own tears. She laid her head down on her father's chest, laughing hysterically. Or sobbing, depending on your point of view. "I've missed you, Papa. I've missed you so much!"

Sabine's arms wrapped around her from behind, and then Tom's free arm came around them both.

And for a good long while, they remained like that: huddled together like a band of weeping, blubbering fools.


The new physician arrived at the manor around lunch time.

She gave Tom a healthy dose of a special medicine, as well as some sweet-smelling herbal ointment that helped cool off his fever. She recommended a few more days rest, and then the baker would be back to his old self in no time. Sabine thanked her profusely and asked Nathalie to give her a bag of gold and a hearty lunch as a reward.

After the physician went downstairs, Marinette sat down and told her parents the whole story about her life at the castle. Alya and Nino listened in from the small chair in the corner, the former sitting in the latter's lap. Through it all, Tom and Sabine remained blissfully silent, their expressions shifting from startled to amazed.

"So, the stallion brought me back home," Marinette concluded. "And when I came into town, I bumped into Chloe Bourgeois, and then I came here."

"Really?" Alya chortled. "I wish I'd been there to see the look on Chloe's face. Did she try to buy that dress right off you?"

"Aly," Nino groaned.

"What? Just asking."

Marinette shook her head before turning her attention to her parents.

Tom sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. He was already looking better, and he was in less pain now. But that didn't ease the tension in his eyebrows. "I still can't believe it," he said before glancing at his daughter. "Cat Noir actually let you go?"

"His name is Adrien," Marinette corrected, smiling thoughtfully. "And yes, he did." She caught her mother's curious eye.

"But… it doesn't make sense!" Tom exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Why now? Why make you – us – go through all of that? First, he starts out as a horrible beast, and now –"

Marinette frowned at her father. "He's not horrible, Papa," she interrupted. "He was just lonely and bitter because of the curse. But he's different now. He… I don't know… He's changed. Or reverted back to the person he once was."

Sabine turned to her husband. "He did save her from those wolves, dear," she pointed out. "And he let Marinette go free. Surely that was enough to try and make amends?"

Tom sighed and patted her hand. "I know, I know, Sabine. It's just… hard to picture him the way Marinette described him. It's not… natural."

Marinette straightened up. "Just because something's not natural, Papa, doesn't mean it's not real," she said gently. "And Adrien…" She paused, remembering the way her feline friend had shed those painful tears on the day he told her about the enchantress; the way he held her after they had exited the Book of Wanderings… and the way he had smiled so passionately on the night they had danced. "There's so much more to him," Marinette finished, pouring so much emotion into those few words.

Again, Sabine stared at her daughter with a knowing gaze, as though she could see the truth of Marinette's words like a written plaque.

As soft knock at the door startled the group. It was the physician.

Marinette still couldn't believe how young the woman was, given her expertise in medicine. She was older by a few years, with tight skin and a youthful gleam in her evergreen eyes. Her brown hair fell straight down to her waist and was tied together at the bottom, and two smaller tails hung from both sides of her sleek face.

"How's our patient doing?" the physician asked in her bubbly yet syrupy voice.

Tom smiled at her. "Not one-hundred percent, but better than before." He beamed at his daughter and squeezed her hand. "Things are really looking up."

The physician smiled. "That's wonderful, Mr. Dupain. I have no doubt you'll make a speedy recovery. Now, I'm afraid I have other business to attend to, but remember what I said: get plenty of rest and stay away from the woods for a while. That place is not good for one's health."

"Yes, mademoiselle," Tom complied.

"Oh, please – call me Lila."

Marinette took the opportunity to escort the physician out of the manor. As Lila buttoned up her spring jacket, Marinette finally asked, "Forgive me, but… have we met before?"

Lila's bow of a mouth seemed to twitch before she gave a casual shrug. "I don't think so. I'm really good with faces, and while yours is by far the fairest I've ever seen…" She shook her head. "I'm pretty sure I would remember meeting you, my dear."

"My dear"? She's barely older than me. Marinette tried not to appear uneasy. "It's just… your voice sounds vaguely familiar," she said, trying to find some sort of evidence in that chiseled face. Hardly the face of a common physician.

Lila giggled softly, but this time, her smile was a bit restrained. "It's a big world out there, Miss Marinette." She glanced over her shoulder at the blunette as she headed out the door. "Trust me – some things are best left ignored."

Marinette could only stare puzzledly at Lila as the latter bid a sing-song farewell and strolled down the lawn towards the gate.

"You okay?" Alya called from the middle of the stairs.

Marinette continued to watch the physician with discerning eyes as she answered, "I know I don't usually say this, but… that girl is weird."