"Delightful," Chat said, doing his best to keep the smile from dripping off his face.
"It's risky to be sure," Lord Cataldi babbled on. "But if our nations cooperate now to establish and secure a new route, it will pay dividends for decades, nay, centuries to come!" How any man was able to muster this much enthusiasm for trade agreements was a mystery.
"Our Master of Coins might just faint in excitement when he hears of this." Chat took a deep sip of his goblet, the smooth burn sliding down his throat. "I'll be sure to tell him in person, if only for the entertainment value."
Polite titters answered him, and with a satisfied nod, Lord Cataldi launched into yet another lecture on the importance of cornering the silk trade in the region.
Chat wanted to pay attention. He really did. This was important to father, and he did not wish to disappoint again. But it was difficult to stay focused on inane chatter when he was being sized up by another predator.
Once again, his gaze drifted to her.
She stood off to the side, her hands demurely folded in front of her drab skirts, all but fading into the background. Yet her sharp gaze kept sweeping over the gathered crowd, watching, judging, calculating, holding herself so still and making herself so unseen that it could only be deliberate.
The ambassador's daughter, Lady Kagami.
Instinct whispered that she was the one to impress, not the preening Lords trying to outwit each other by bloviating the loudest. So he'd decided to mimic her, listening politely and attentively, offering noncommittal statements, and keeping his opinions close to his chest.
Not that he had opinions on any of this, but a mysterious, knowing smile went a long way toward convincing the delegates that there was some substance he kept hidden.
When a lull in the conversation presented itself, he took the opportunity to wander away from the group, flashing a smile at Lady Kagami as he joined her next to the buffet table.
"Are you enjoying your stay in the capital, my Lady?"
"It's splendid, Your Grace," she murmured, doing her best impression of a wallflower.
When she offered nothing more, he asked, "So what do you think of Lord Cataldi's proposal?"
She slanted a side-long glance at him. "I'm afraid trade is not my area of expertise."
"And yet, if looks could kill, Lord Cataldi would be lying dead at our feet and the guards would be dragging you away for murder."
A dry chuckle escaped before she pressed her lips together.
"Oh, I wouldn't stoop to murder for this," she said at length. "Grievous bodily injury, perhaps. Was I so obvious?"
"Not at all. But once I took notice, I found myself intrigued. What part of his scheme is it that you find so objectionable?"
Her appraising gaze swept over him, pinning him in place like he was no more than an insect she was examining. For all that he'd noticed that she was playing a different game than the others, he had no idea how to read that expression of hers. It made his hackles rise, his fangs itching to be bared in a threat display, to make her regret thinking she could come to his territory and test him.
"You're not the first powerful patron he's sought to fund his plans, and as always, he's downplaying the risk. What he will not tell you is just how fiercely protective the Eastern nations are of their monopoly on silk. Expect your workers to be murdered, your supplies to be burned, and your traders to be ambushed."
If the glamor hadn't robbed him of his true ears, they would have twitched right about now. It was truth, but not quite. Lies by omission. There were more reasons she would object to this deal.
But mentally combing through Adrien's memories for hints yielded nothing, so he fell back on his smile. "I thank you for your counsel, my Lady."
"Hm." She tilted her head. "I've been given to understand a woman's counsel doesn't count for much in these lands."
Chat had gathered as much. Countless rules drew a sharp dividing line between human males and females, and while he could see the sense in some, others were utterly baffling. It was the reason the king's valet ran around pretending to be a male.
"A fool discards wisdom at his own peril," he said with an expansive shrug, echoing a memory of the king.
"That he does, Your Grace." Was he imagining the glint of approval?
A high-pitched screech pierced the air, following by deafening thunder. Chat flinched, staring wide-eyed at the sky. A burst of red stars was rapidly fading as a chorus of coos rang out all around him. His sensitive ears picked up on the word fireworks amongst the excited chatter.
Lowering his gaze back down to Lady Kagami, he bowed at the waist. "I'm afraid that's my cue to seek out a previous engagement. I hope you enjoy the rest of the festivities, My Lady. Happy New Year's Eve."
She dropped into a curtsy, her eagle-eyed gaze never leaving his. "And to you, Your Grace."
Keeping the smile plastered to his face, he turned toward the other Esparian nobles to politely extract himself. By the time he was done with all the formalities, smoke was burning his nostrils, his temple throbbing from the uncomfortably loud bangs overhead.
Forced to draw his glamor around himself to muffle his senses, he prowled aimlessly through the crowd in search of familiar faces. Nino was nowhere to be found still, and neither was Lady Mariposa. Chat scowled, absently rolling his shoulders to try and release the tension that had crept in. Playing at politics was draining.
The humans had huddled together in groups, their gazes turned heavenward and alight with joy. They were absurdly social creatures, forever seeking each other's company. And it wasn't that he was jealous or anything, but the fact that the humans he thought he'd made a connection with were so eager to disappear on him did make him wonder if there wasn't truth to the Changeling's words after all.
Maybe Chat wasn't as good at this as he'd thought.
A male not far from him leaned forward to whisper something into his female companion's ear. In response, she leaned into him, bliss written so plainly on her face that even Chat had no trouble reading it.
And something inside him ached.
A gentle touch brushed his shoulder blade, and he jumped at being ambushed, whirling around.
Lady Mariposa blinked up at him with wide eyes, and then cracked up laughing.
Warmth bloomed in his chest.
Marinette didn't mean to laugh, she really didn't. But, well, he looked so utterly ridiculous, his jump clearing what had to be at least a foot in height.
"My apologies for startling you," she said, biting her lip to keep her grin in check.
Adrien's almost offended expression quickly softened with recognition, even as his lips pushed forward in a pout. "I meant to do that."
"Of course."
"I did."
"Wanted to show off your acrobatics skills?"
"Yes. Are you suitably impressed?"
"I shall swoon post-haste."
The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. "I have a hard time believing you've ever swooned in your life." He paused, seeming to weigh his words as his gaze grew guarded. "You're a hard woman to find, Lady Mariposa. I've been looking for your vicinity."
Even an hour ago, the words would likely have left her a flustered mess. Instead, riding the wave of unrestrained boldness she'd uncovered within herself, she opened her arms, gesturing to herself. "Behold. My vicinity."
His smile deepened, and he turned his gaze toward the sky just as green light erupted overhead, illuminating his handsome profile. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he said, then cleared his throat. "For the fireworks."
Marinette followed his gaze, watching the little stars as they burst into existence only to flame out mere moments later. "And the company."
She felt rather than saw his body shift beside her, a pleased hum emanating from his throat.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke, both their attentions absorbed by the spectacle above. And yet, her gaze kept sneaking back to the man beside her.
He looked no worse for wear since they'd parted, so she could only assume the fae attack had been focused on Alya alone.
"Tell him nothing of who you are," Alya whispered fiercely, her arms wrapping around Marinette as they said their goodbyes for the night. "Don't even hint. It's been made abundantly clear how little we can afford to have anyone draw wrong conclusions about you." Her gaze darted to Lord Lahiffe, and she lowered her voice further. "I'll explain tomorrow."
Marinette inclined her head. "Before you go, I have a question."
"Yes?"
She smiled sheepishly. "How do I turn back?"
Even now that Alya had severed the connection, Marinette still sensed her butterfly's presence. Like embers lying dormant within, ready to flare into a blazing inferno at her command.
"Lord Lahiffe asked me to convey his regrets," Marinette said and his gaze swiveled to hers. "He had to leave the feast early, though he hopes to make it up to you soon."
Adrien blinked, then frowned. "He left?"
"Yes, but – do you remember my cousin?"
"Lady Césaire," he said with a slow nod.
"She twisted her ankle and can't walk on her own." Lies should not be slipping from her lips this easily, and yet… "He's helping her get home."
"I see," he said, his frown deepening.
For the first time, the silence between them grew awkward, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. She ran her fingers through her hair, pointlessly smoothing what was already smooth, and grew still when her fingertips brushed her earring stud.
Courage. Marinette had faced the darkness, and she could face this.
"You're upset," she said softly.
He turned to her with a strangely vulnerable expression. "Do you think he's angry with me?"
Golden eyes blazed with intensity. "You'll protect Adrien?"
"No," she said with certainty.
He exhaled a touch too sharply and said nothing.
"What makes you think that, Your G – Adrien?" she asked, hesitantly inching closer.
"I've been an ass recently." He shot her a surprisingly self-conscious look, and gestured vaguely to his head. "Injuries make a man ill-tempered."
Good maid. As they had many times in recent days, those humiliating words crossed her mind. But this time, they faded as quickly as they'd risen, easy to swat away like the annoying gnats they were.
"Nobody ought to be judged only by their low points," she said decisively. "I don't know him well, but I doubt Lord Lahiffe would have cut the evening short if it hadn't been an emergency."
"Hopefully." He shook his head as if to shake off his doubts with it, and turned his gaze back toward the sky. "Apologies for being maudlin during a celebration. Here I am in good company and not appreciating it."
"Well, if ever there was a time to be maudlin, it's now."
He arched a questioning eyebrow.
"Get all those thoughts out and leave them behind in the old year," she said.
Just as his lips started moving, an unpleasantly high-pitched whistling noise rang out, drowning out his voice. Applause ran through the crowd just as the sky caught fire. Marinette had seen fireworks before, but none that could match the sheer extravagance and scale of this, the sparse clouds aflame with the full spectrum of colors.
Prince Adrien leaned forward, lips almost but not quite brushing her ear, speaking softly over the roar.
"Happy New Year."
A pleasant shiver ran down the length of her spine. "Happy New Year," she whispered.
His lips curved into an impish grin as he rocked back on his heels, eyes dancing in merriment at some private joke.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said innocently.
Marinette narrowed her eyes in suspicion, and he struggled in vain to keep a straight face.
"Fine. I admit, I was hoping for a squeak."
"You–!" She shoved his upper arm as his laughter spilled forth. "Don't make me regret coming here!"
That sobered him. "But you don't, right?"
"…If I say no, it's going to go straight to your head, isn't it?"
"Purr-haps."
She rolled her eyes, pointedly looking back at the sky. Her skin kept prickling with awareness of him as he kept his eyes on her, yet even that paled when her little throw-away joke refused to fade from her mind.
Did she regret coming?
"Every step I took that brought me here," Marinette said at last. "I'd take again." She grinned at him. "Would you like to know why?"
Curiosity sparked to life in green eyes. "Why?"
"Because I remember staring at the sky this time last year. And the year before that, and the one before that. Standing on the same spot." She paused, trying to give words and form to this feeling swelling inside of her. The one that had her standing tall in front of a beast. "Nothing ever changed, not really. And I was looking at my whole life ahead of me, knowing it'd be more of the same."
A lifetime of being ordered around while she yearned for something she couldn't even put words to. Sometimes her daydreams had given it form, dressed it up in the shape of a prince to take her away on a white steed.
"Well, now I'm here." Standing amongst nobility and monsters. "And I'm just…so excited. About where this year will take me. Because I truly have no idea. Even if it will be hard, and scary, and… I'm not afraid. Anymore. Isn't that strange?"
A happy laugh bubbled up.
"I can't wait to see what I'm capable of."
"Well," he said softly, his eyelids closing in a slow blink as he stared at her with an inscrutable expression. "Now, neither can I, Lady Marip–"
"Mari," Marinette said decisively. The made-up name sat ill, and though she had to keep up the pretense, she didn't want more lies than needed to stand between them. The nickname, at least, she could pretend was her own. "I – if we're going to be breaking all rules of formality, you should call me Mari. Adrien."
"Mari." It was not quite a growl, the way he rolled the syllables on his tongue, but it made her shiver all the same, stirring something deep in her belly. "Tell me about yourself."
Her newfound boldness stretched to its limits, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear with a shy smile. "What would you like to know?"
His lips stretched into a Cheshire grin. "Everything."
Thunder roared overhead, the gaps in between growing longer as the last vestiges of the human celebration faded away.
Volpina cracked open milky white eyes, snarling low in her throat. Shadows danced in front of her damaged vision, the hunter's stolen magic lasting longer than she'd feared. In the hours she'd lain here, only one of her eyes had managed to slowly regenerate. Even then, the shapes in the distance were still melting into one another, blurred and indistinct.
The grass rustled as she tentatively rose to all her fours, trading a grasshopper's body for that of a rodent. She was beyond lucky the hunter had taken the bait of her illusion and not looked closer at the butterfly she'd conjured. Never would Volpina underestimate them again.
As galling as it was, she needed help.
Her nose twitched as she breathed deeply, whiskers quivering. Sorting through smoke and ash and humans, she caught that singular trace of Nightmare, the dark magic of her home welcoming her like an old friend. Moving slowly and deliberately, Volpina followed the cat's scent.
When she came upon the closed gates, she let loose an indignant squeak. Normally, she'd have no trouble navigating the palace and shifting smoothly between shapes to scale the walls. Being blinded complicated things, however, as did her battered front paw.
Should she risk it?
The hunters had been gone for hours, and thought her dead besides. She'd been forced to listen to their conversation, not daring to move a muscle as even a single movement might have given her away.
At least she'd learned a great deal of the enemy they were facing.
Volpina smiled at the thought of them all dying by the hand of the prince they were seeking to protect.
Closing her eyes, she called upon Underhill's magic, gathering it all in within her chest. Then, like a beacon, she let loose a pulse. Wave after wave, not near enough magic to disturb the world around her – so much more rigid than Underhill – but plainly obvious to anyone with heightened senses.
It did not take him long.
Her ears perked when soft footfalls disturbed the nearby underbrush. Raising her head, she squinted at the shadow closing in on her, barely able to make out the outline of a swishing tail.
"What did I tell you about walking around without your glamor?" she snapped.
The Lady's pet paused, tilting his head as triangular ears flattened.
"That's no way to greet your would-be-savior." His words were half-purr, half-reprimand, and utterly humiliating to be on the receiving end of. Claws closed around her small body, surprisingly gentle as he cradled her to his chest. "What happened to you?"
"Hunters," she said bitterly. "Which is why you should not be walking these grounds so exposed!"
"Duly noted," he said as he raised her higher still, setting her down upon his wild mane. "Hang on tight." Dropping down to all fours, he broke into a sprint. Her claws dug into his scalp when gravity tore at her, squeezing her damaged eyes shut against the whipping wind. The scent of Nightmare grew thick as he took her to what had to be his lair.
"It should be more than duly noted." At last, he came to an abrupt halt, and her stomach churned. "Do you have any idea how near they've come to you? They've been sniffing around the prince's best friend. The one you foolishly chose to keep close."
"I see." Another swish of the black tail. "Did you give me away?"
Though it cost her energy she did not have to spare, she unhinged her jaw, widening it beyond that of a mere rat to properly infuse her hiss with all the contempt that insulting question deserved.
"Of course not."
"Good." He smiled, the glint of sharp fangs bright enough to stand out even with her ruined vision. Behind him, a shadow stirred, the scent of Nightmare growing stronger.
Volpina froze.
"Chat?" she asked, uncertain. This was – this was not the prince's room–!
"Not quite." His voice grew higher as his ears flicked, stretching, black tips giving way to white just as his tail began fraying.
And Volpina roared, limbs twisting, bones cracking, magic flowing over her to create the most fearsome shape she could think of. Blindly snapping her fangs, she lunged, swiping her monstrous paw–
Agony shot through her, black blood spurting as she collapsed.
Looming over her, surrounded by nine tails, a fae absently licked the back of its hand, cleaning away the gore.
"Look, Plagg. I brought you a snack."
Author's Notes:
Someone got... outfoxed.
(I tried so hard to put that dumb line in there somewhere but alas, it was not to be.)
2018 was a rough year for me, but I'm so glad I found the opportunity to join this wonderful fandom. Thank you so much for reading and for all your support - your comments mean the world to me! Happy New Year!
A very special thanks to wynni and Fifi! I really appreciate you guys taking the time to comment on every chapter ❤