I write a lot of Adrienette for some reason even though Marichat's my favourite ship. Sorry about that. I'll try to mix it up a little.
This is not based off of Cinderella, though it seems similar (there may be one in the future ;)). And just a note, this takes place in the nineteenth century. But I'm not making them talk the way they did in the 1800s.
ML
LIVING IN THE NINETEENTH century was horrible. Especially for women.
"Long dresses are so stupid," Marinette mumbled as she tugged at the hem of her dress. "Remind me again why I need to wear this monstrosity?" She tripped once again on her dress.
Alya giggled. "Because you don't want to get married to some gross old man, girl!"
Said girl sighed. "Right." She looked in disgust at the ugly colour. "Least we could do is design our own dresses legally!" The shade of swamp green was a really unflattering look on her.
"Like I said earlier, we can't because we don't want to get married to some gross old man. Floor length dresses are a must, because-"
"-showing a lady's ankles is considered inappropriate, and any man who looks upon a lady's must marry her. Yes, I know. We all have that imbedded in our brains by now," Marinette snapped in exasperation. She absolutely hated that dreadful rule! Rumour was, it had been put in place because of the prince. The same prince who had also apparently slept with a slew of girls. She guessed the rule didn't apply to all of the girls he met.
That jerk. If she ever met him, she was going to punch him in his disgusting face. Speaking of...
"Come on, we've gotta get to the market, girl! I hear the King is making an appearance, and you know what that means!" She winked at Marinette.
"...that all of the prices will be lowered for a day just to impress him?" she guessed feebly, hopefully, knowing the real answer.
Alya rolled her eyes. "No! The Prince, silly! I heard he's hot." She fake fanned herself while doing an exaggerated curtsy, then burst into laughter.
Marinette pursed her lips and shook her head. "Why don't you tell that to Nino?" she said smugly, trying to erase the sound of disgust from her voice. (Not because of Alya, because of the Prince.) Alya had recently announced her relationship with the local composer's apprentice.
Without an answer, the redhead shoved Marinette into the carriage.
ML
The Market was located in the center of the village. It was the place where everything happened, and was constantly busy and buzzing. However, that day it was noisier than usual.
"What's going on?" Marinette asked, referring to the cluster of girls giggling and twirling their hair.
Squinting her eyes, Alya said, "Looks like His Highness has arrived, along with the Heir." She pointed to a fancy-looking carriage with a series of intricately decorated golden vines. "Wanna go check him out?"
Already on the lookout for the fabrics stand, Marinette shook her head. "Nah, I want to get some new fabrics for a dress I'm designing. Illegally," she added, remembering the law put in place by the His Highness that was inhabiting the very same square that they were in.
Alya sighed. "Okay girl, but just be wary of who's around you. With the King here and all, you don't want to get caught."
Snorting, Marinette muttered, "What are they going to do, execute me for buying some fabric?" But she could see the worry in her best friend's eyes, so she promised to be careful and then rushed off.
Her eyes lit up at the sight of the beautiful fabrics. Sighing in delight, she felt the softness of a certain velvet she needed for her dress. The seller's son, who she'd gotten quite familiar with, smiled at the sight of the beautiful girl. "What're you looking for today, Marinette?" he asked, eyes sparkling. Alya suspected that the redhead had a crush on Marinette, but whenever the subject came up, the blackette always shooed away the idea with disbelief.
Marinette's head snapped up and she grinned. "Hey, Nath! What's up?" The boy flushed and opened his mouth to speak, when-
"-excuse me! Sorry, I'll fix that!" A hooded figure barged in between them, then cleared his throat. "Uh, sorry. Can I stay here for a second?" His hood was starting to edge off of his head, and Marinette could see some strands of golden hair. "Please?"
Nathanaël shook his head, disgruntled. "Uh...sure."
The boy winced. He seemed to be hiding from something, Marinette thought, as he ducked behind a stack of fabrics. After a few seconds, he sighed in relief and looked at the two gaping teenagers. "Er...sorry about that. I'll clean it up." In a second, the messed up fabrics were back to their normal state. The two friends watched as the hooded figure disappeared in the distance.
"Oh, no! The velvet!" The material that Marinette had been longing to buy was now covered with dirt, courtesy of the destructive boy who had hid behind the fabrics a moment before. "Sorry, Mari," Nathanaël said apologetically. "Looks like the fabric is ruined."
Marinette smiled comfortingly. "It's okay, Nath. It wasn't your fault- that guy ruined perfectly good fabric! If I see him again, I'll talk to him, alright?" After insisting to pay for the velvet, the girl fled the stand and left to explore the rest of the tables.
ML
"Sorry!" she heard someone yell, crashing into her. She tumbled to the ground, ruining her dress along with the necklace she was holding.
Mystery Boy lay sprawled on top of her. He smiled sheepishly. "Uh...sorry."
Marinette blurted the first thing that came to her mind. "You're not running from the law, are you?" She didn't want to associate herself with a criminal.
The boy's eyebrows raised. "No..." He smirked at her face, and she knew immediately he recognised her from the fabric stand. "But you mine as well be, knowing that you can't design or make any article of clothing."
"How do you know I was going to make an article of clothing? I could've been buying the fabric to make a bag!" she said defensively. Realising that he was still on top of her, she said, "Can you get off?"
The boy shook his head, smirk still on his face. She glared at him and he sighed. "Fine." But just as she was about to get back on her feet, she was shoved down again. She would've hit her head hard if it weren't for the hand placed behind her head.
She opened her mouth to shout at him, but Mystery Boy gently covered her mouth with his hand and shook his head gently. This slight motion caused his hood to fall off, and Marinette swore, her eyes almost came out of their sockets.
He was beautiful.
His breathtaking green eyes were wide and sparkling as he looked into her cerulean ones, and his golden hair fell perfectly around his tan face. He was, by far, the most gorgeous boy she had ever—and would ever—seen.
One corner of his pink lips quirked upwards, and he tilted his head slightly. Her heart exploded, and she was positive he could hear it beat a million miles an hour. She vaguely heard footsteps and yelling, but she didn't connect that to the boy until she saw him sink in relief when the sounds faded in the distance.
He helped her up. "Sorry-" He cut off, then turned away, cheeks flushed. Clearing his throat, he avoided her eyes.
Marinette looked at him curiously. "What?" He glanced down, then bit his lip.
"Uh, my apologies, but I must go-" He disappeared, just like before.
And with horror, she felt her heart sink.
Minutes later, she heard her name. "Mari! Marinette! Geez, girl, where were you? I looked all over!" She tugged at her arm. "Come on, you won't believe this! The King is here..."
"...to pick a wife for his son!" a group of girls sighed elsewhere.
Marinette smiled weakly, not really giving a single damn about this jerkish Prince. "That's cool, Alya. But you can't go, because you've got a boyfriend."
Alya sighed. "Sometimes, I feel like you're playing with me." She tugged at her arm once more. "You're entering, duh!"
Dread sunk in her stomach. But she hated the prince! "No, really Alya, it's fine. I'll watch with you from afar." But the redhead was already forcing her into the crowd. "Alya, seriously! I'd rather settle down with a nice guy who understands me and-"
"Oh, come on. There's a lot of girls here, there's a big chance you won't get chosen! It'll be fun!" How was giving away yourself to a jerk fun?
The announcer on stage cleared his throat. "Welcome, ladies and gentlemen- but mostly ladies." The boy on stage, who couldn't be older than Marinette, winked at the fidgeting girls in the crowd. She heard a number of them sigh.
Rolling her eyes, Marinette was ready to run out of square, but she was stopped by a line of soldiers. What the hell?
"Now, please welcome King Gabriel Agreste!" A roar went up through the crowd, most likely conjured because the majority of the citizens did not feel like getting executed.
On stage, a tall man stood with gray hair and a regal expression. He gazed upon the crowd and the causing the people to go silent. He seemed to scrutinise every single one of the potential princesses before giving a slight nod and turning to the announcer.
He whispered something in his ear, and the announcer grimaced. "Well, ladies, this is new, but the King would like...the prince to decide for himself!" He cleared his throat looking slightly confused. "Please welcome Prince Adrien to the stage!"
A boy entered the stage covered with a hood. The announcer continued. "The Prince wishes to keep his face hidden. He will reveal his face to the chosen lady after leaving the Market." Marinette rose her eyebrows. What difference would that make?
The prince scanned—well, she assumed he did, she couldn't see his eyes—the crowd, and the girls started fluffing their dresses and fixing their hair. She looked down, not wanting to make accidental eye contact with the Prince.
After a few moments, she heard the announcer bellow, "The Prince has chosen!" She looked up in search of the unlucky girl.
Only to find the Prince pointing at her.