CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
A GAME OF DECEPTION
The Queen of Thieves was not afraid of anything.
Whatever dangers she faced, no matter what obstacles lay in her path or how many enemies tried to catch her, Bridgette never showed any trace of fear.
So why was her heart beating so fast, like she was going to pass out?
They're my parents, she kept assuring herself as Marinette and her procession led Bridgette and Alix into the throne room. I'm their daughter.
Marinette had told her that Mother and Father would be forgiving, yet Bridgette kept staring down at the ground as she drew closer to the royal dais.
Seventeen years is a long time. Maybe they've forgotten what I look like.
No, I can't think like that. I have to do this, at least for Marinette's sake. I have to mend this old wound.
Then, once I have the Miraculous, I can leave this place and go home.
Home. The word tasted like metal on her tongue now. Agreste had been her home once, and Bridgette had hated it. Mount Sesame wasn't exactly a palace, but it was her sanctuary.
Only now, Marinette was living in a real palace, just like Bridgette had dreamed their whole family would.
Bridgette suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Her little sister was welcoming her into her new home, and Bridgette was going to rob her. It sounded easier when Alix had mentioned it back at Mount Sesame. Now, as the Queen of Thieves stood in this regal outfit; walked through this glorious, marble chamber; saw the sparkling excitement in Marinette's eyes...
She felt out of place, like a crow in a flock of doves. Wretched. Tainted.
It was like she was looking through the bakery window again, ten years ago; watching that happy child playing on the floor, surrounded by all the warmth and comforts of a loving family.
Bridgette forced herself to breathe steadily. Astruc, forgive me – I can't do this.
But it was already too late.
She barely heard the words spoken by her sister, announcing their presence. When she looked up, the first person she saw was the king. He was standing at the foot of his throne instead of sitting, and his vacant face bore a tiny smile.
Then Bridgette looked to the right... and her breath hitched.
They were exactly as she remembered them:
Mother so small yet beautiful and serene, with eyes like the moon.
Father so buff and gigantic, yet gentle with that thick mustache that used to tickle Bridgette whenever he gave her kisses.
Both of her parents were staring at her, awestruck. Sabine had her hands over her heart, and Tom looked a little weak in the knees.
Bridgette realized she couldn't move, but she made no effort to try. It was like a pair of hot, iron tongs was squeezing her heart. It hurt so much, but Bridgette had never been happier to feel such pain. It made her eyes burn, and her jaw ached as she tried to hold back a shuddering sob.
Stop this nonsense, Bridgette, please! We are your family! You can't just throw it all away!
I'm doing this for my family, Papa! For you, for Mama, for Marinette! I can do so much more for us... and I'll prove it! Someday, I'm going to be a hero! They won't give us the future we deserve, so I'm going to get it for us! I have to try! Just wait and see!
Bridgette had never forgotten those words, the night she last saw her parents' horrified faces.
Only now, they weren't horrified, or angry, or stricken with grief. They looked... curious?
Sure enough, Sabine stepped forward. One. Two. Three. Four. Her footsteps sounded throughout the chamber, and the hollowness of Bridgette's bones.
Once she reached her eldest daughter, Sabine reached up with tender fingers.
Bridgette didn't move, or utter a sound. She only closed her eyes as soon as those fingers touched her cheek.
It felt good, like drinking a cup of fresh water.
Bridgette opened her eyes and finally managed a small smile. "Hi, Mama," she croaked.
Sabine was crying now, but her smile was broad and her laugh was joyous. "Bridgette..." she breathed as she pulled her daughter close. "My baby..."
Gods above, she even smelled the same: cookies and cinnamon and sunflowers.
Bridgette felt so awkward, but she wrapped her arms around her mother's back and held her for a long time, savouring the moment. Then, she started crying too, albeit more softly.
Sabine pulled away and turned to her husband. "Tom, look! It's Bridgette. Our Bridgette!" she blubbered happily.
Then Bridgette's father was there, and though his embrace could crush a mountain, Bridgette laughed all the same.
This laughter, this warmth, these tears... It all felt so good. Bridgette felt so relaxed, so happy, so soft inside...
Soft-hearted... Sensitive...
Yes, Bridgette. Mercy would be so like you: soft... and weak.
Bridgette stiffened, and then sighed.
Hawkmoth had tried to wring all that compassion and kindness out of her for years, but he never succeeded. But he did succeed with one thing: he made Bridgette the most notorious thief and fighter that ever walked the seven deserts.
Hawkmoth may not be around anymore to threaten all that Bridgette knew and loved... but she could never stop being the Queen of Thieves. It was as much a part of her as the beating heart in her chest.
But she couldn't think like that right now. Today, she wasn't the Queen of Thieves. Today, she was just Bridgette, the baker's daughter.
And her parents believed that their firstborn had been rescued after so many years of imprisonment. It's better that they see me like this, Bridgette decided. If they knew the truth, it would kill them.
So Bridgette played her part well. She smiled at her parents and kissed them on the cheeks. Then, Marinette was tearfully joining in on the group hug while her friends watched from the sidelines. Then, Bridgette begged her parents to forgive her for being so foolish and naïve all those years ago; for leaving them before Marinette had a chance to know her.
Tom stroked her hair. "What's done is done, Bridgette," he said gently. "There's no point in dwelling on the past. We're just happy to have you back."
Sabine nodded and looked at her youngest daughter. "And what's more: our Marinette found her sister, and returned with her safe and sound. Our family is back together where it belongs."
Bridgette's smile became jagged, and she pretended to dip her head in gratitude to Marinette.
Alix took her turn saying hello to Tom and Sabine. Then, introductions were made with King Gabriel, the steward Lady Nathalie, and Master Fu, the Great Guardian of the Miraculous.
Bridgette knew the moment she laid eyes on the old man that he wasn't as old and frail as he appeared.
"It must have been dreadful for you, my dear," Master Fu said sympathetically as he took Bridgette's hand in his.
The older blunette blinked. "Dreadful?" she repeated.
"Oh, indeed. I can't imagine all that you have been through; all those years trapped by the Forty Thieves." The Guardian's brown eyes cut deep into Bridgette's soul.
The Queen of Thieves went rigid. He knows. How does he know? But she smiled innocently and looked away. "I appreciate your concern, Master. And... yes, it was..." She shook her head and turned away, covering her forehead with the back of her hand. "Forgive me, but I'd rather not say. I try to block out the memories when I can."
To her relief, the facade seemed to work on everyone else, including Marinette. Does she really believe so much in me, when I have so little? That queasiness in Bridgette's stomach returned.
Master Fu hummed. Whether with intrigue or suspicion, Bridgette couldn't tell.
King Gabriel held up a strict hand. "Say no more," he stated with a tone like a gentle rumble of thunder. "Not another word on the subject."
Bridgette spun around with renewed joy. "Yes," she said, placing her hands on her father's and mother's shoulders. "It's like Father said: there's no point in dwelling on the past. Let's turn our attention to happier thoughts..." She smiled charmingly at the king. "...like the blessed union of our two families."
Gabriel nodded. "Then, if there are no objections, I suggest we move on with the ceremony at once. This afternoon, perhaps?"
This afternoon. Plenty of time for Alix to scope out the palace and determine the location of the Miraculous.
Bridgette grinned. "In that case, I'm going to need a new dress," she said.
Her parents and a few others burst into twinkling laughter.
Marinette watched with a beaming smile as Nathalie offered to give Bridgette and Alix a tour of the palace, which they kindly excepted.
As Marinette and Adrien walked arm-in-arm and followed the procession, she whispered excitedly to her prince, "It worked, Adrien. They love her!"
Adrien cast her a feline grin. "I suppose that queenly charm of hers can be put to good use," he noted.
Tikki flew up between the couple. "It's the outfit," she insisted proudly. "Nothing does it better than an old trousseau."
Marinette rolled her eyes. "It's more than that," she said as she glanced at Bridgette.
The king was laughing at something her sister said – King Gabriel, laughing! And when Bridgette caught Marinette's eye, she winked with a sly grin.
Marinette sighed, her smile never fading one bit. "All she needed was a second chance," she whispered.
Everything was perfect now. She had Adrien, her friends, and her family. Her whole family. What could possibly go wrong now?
Hawkmoth couldn't have been wrong. He was never wrong!
But as he stared icily at the faces of his former cohorts – the Forty Thieves – he knew that there could be no doubt. His true enemy was not among them.
"You'll pay for this!" shouted an old man as he thrashed about in his chains.
"Traitor!" yelled a woman.
Another plastered his face against the bars of the viewing window, his broken teeth clear for all to see. "The Queen will have your –!" he began.
Hawkmoth heard enough. He slammed the viewing door shut on the thief's face.
"Ow! My nose," the man's muffled voice moaned.
Growling, Hawkmoth stormed down the dungeon hallway towards the gaoler's office.
He threw the door open, startling Lieutenant Roger and his two lackeys.
"She's not here!" Hawkmoth hissed, the firelight dancing furiously across his silver mask.
The two lowly guards backed away.
Roger drew up that big belly of his and folded his arms. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, clearly not amused.
Hawkmoth towered over the bulky guard. "I gave you one job – just one! – and you louse it up!" he spat in Roger's face, quite literally. "There are only thirty-one thieves in that cell, not forty! And what's worse?! You didn't capture the Queen of Thieves!"
Roger wiped away the spittle with the back of his hand and feigned surprise. "Apologises, good sir! Then again, you did fail to note that she was not at the hideout!"
"What?!" Hawkmoth seethed. "She had to be there! She would never abandon the others! She's too noble for that!"
He paused to take a breather and turned away, thinking quickly.
He knew the faces of all the Forty Thieves by heart. Bridgette was not the only one missing – her loyal and stalwart "Seven" were gone as well: Timebreaker, Dark Cupid, Horrificator, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Reflekta, and Gamer.
Oh, right... and Ladybug.
They all must have escaped during the raid, Hawkmoth thought. Knowing them, they probably led the Queen to safety.
But... the lieutenant had specifically said that Bridgette wasn't at the hideout.
"She had to be there," Hawkmoth repeated, more to himself than to the guards. "Where else could she be?"
The door behind him creaked open.
"Uh... Apologises, Lieutenant Roger," came a squeaky voice.
Hawkmoth glared over his shoulder at the young, timid guard entering the office.
Roger sighed. "What is it?"
The puny guard rubbed his neck. "Well... I spoke with the king, like you asked me to. And... well..." He tipped his head back and forth, as though trying to joggle the words out of that insignificant brain of his. "He said he won't be able to sentence your prisoners... until tomorrow."
Roger bore the look of a gaping fish. "Tomorrow?" he snapped exasperatedly. "What's more important than sentencing my prisoners?"
And getting his promotion. Hawkmoth could smell that hidden message behind the lieutenant's words like odour from a garbage bin.
The young guard blinked, as though it was obvious. "Why, the wedding, sir." He clasped his hands together with a bright smile. "Prince Adrien and Ladybug are finally getting married."
Hawkmoth whirled at that name. "Ladybug?!" He walked over and grabbed the young guard by the collar. "Ladybug is here?"
The poor fellow looked like he was going to wet himself. "Y-Y-Y-Yes! Yes!" he stuttered pitifully. "She just got back this m-m-morning! The wedding is t-t-taking place this afternoon!"
Hawkmoth stared off into nothingness, but he let the lad go.
Of course. That's why...
What other reason would a sappy woman like Bridgette have to leave the Forty Thieves... then to see the wedding of her sweet, little sister?
The same sister who tried to send me to a watery grave, Hawkmoth thought with a murderous gleam in his eyes. Well, both sisters are about to get taught a valuable lesson.
Hawkmoth chuckled darkly before saying, "Lieutenant, you may have your redemption sooner than you think."
Roger affixed him with a grim, skeptical look. "Oh? And I suppose you've conjured up another one of your cheap miracles?" he asked.
Hawkmoth turned to him, his grin stretching across his face. "I don't need to," he said. "The miracle has conjured itself... in the form of our mutual friend, Ladybug."
The lieutenant's lackeys murmured between each other.
Roger raised an eyebrow, intrigued but no less confused. "Why would she be involved with the Forty Thieves?" he demanded.
"Because her older sister," Hawkmoth stated, "is the Queen of Thieves."
The four guards in the room gasped. The two lackeys and the young guard had shrunken pupils, and their mouths hung agape.
But Roger's expression, as Hawkmoth expected, quickly melted from wonderment to cruel amusement.
"Is she now?" the lieutenant said absent-mindedly. "And she's here – in Agreste?"
"No doubt she's already wormed her way into His Majesty's good graces; played the role of the fragile maiden that had just been rescued from the clutches of death by her brave sister," Hawkmoth explained. "But I know the Queen of Thieves. She may be celebrating her sister's marriage, but I'm certain she's planning to steal the treasure she tried to take the last time she was here: Queen Emilie's peacock brooch."
Now the other guards were chattering amongst each other fretfully.
"But," Hawkmoth pointed out, lifting a finger, "if a certain palace lieutenant were to prevent such a catastrophe from happening... Well then, I would knight the man myself if I had the honour of doing so."
The silver-tongued, silver-faced thief hooked an arm around Roger's shoulder. "Roger, my friend... This is your one chance to regain your honour. Imagine: the sister of the girl who shamed you, arrested and awaiting execution... and you, hailed as the hero who finally caught the uncatchable Queen of Thieves."
Roger's chubby cheeks rose high with glee, and Hawkmoth knew he had ensnared his quarry.
He may not be able to take his revenge on Bridgette personally, but Hawkmoth could take solace in the fact that she would be put to death by the very family her little sister was marrying into.
Oh, how Ladybug will weep for the rest of her years, knowing her dearly beloved's father carried out the order that ended her sister's life!
As for the Queen's Seven, Hawkmoth had other ideas in store for them.
Yes, the King of Thieves would finally usurp his apprentice, and the throne would be rightfully his... for all eternity!