In celebration of this new fic, why not two chapters at once, eh? :)


1 Year Later...

"Thank you for your purchase and have a nice day," Marinette smiled sweetly at the customer she was helping. The woman smiled back and told Marinette to take care. She left the bakery and once she was out of sight, Marinette fell back against the counter, letting out an annoyed groan.

Marinette worked at her parents' bakery which was centered right in the heart of Paris. It was a quaint, little shop that drew in customers ranging from the upper to lower classes. The bakery was connected to the Dupain-Cheng household which occupied the upper floors of the building. Running a bakery was a laborious job so the entire family was needed to keep the place running smooth. That meant Marinette had to fill in for her parents whenever they were away and it was not one of her favorite jobs.

"Isn't it time to close yet?" she asked aloud. "I've been working for at least five hours. Don't I deserve a break? Maman and Papa are still away, but I think if I work another minute, I might collapse from exhaustion." Marinette eyed the "closed" sign that was sitting on the back shelf. She raised an eyebrow and thought, "It wouldn't be too bad if I closed just for a little while, would it? No one's going to notice."

Marinette reached for the sign and stole it from the shelf. She quickly headed towards the door when something grabbed at her dress and yanked her down towards the ground with a thud! "Ow!" Marinette moaned as she looked behind her. Her dress had gotten caught on one of the cabinets, holding her hostage.

"Why am I always so clumsy?" Marinette moaned while she pulled her dress free. There was a tiny tear from where it had gotten caught. The thread was completely unraveling and if she didn't fix it soon, it would become a large and revealing hole. "I'll have to fix it later, but I'd better close the shop first."

Marinette quickly hung the "closed" sign and locked the door with a satisfied smirk. Marinette turned around, making sure she wasn't caught on anything this time. She planned on heading upstairs to mend her dress when there was a loud knock at the door.

"We're closed right now!" Marinette announced, not bothering to turn around. She waved her hand nonchalantly, hoping the customer would get the message. "We'll be open in a little bit though. Please come back later!"

"Girl, you'd better open this door right now before I open it myself!"

Marinette swerved around to see her best friend, Alya, waiting impatiently outside. With arms crossed, she tapped her foot impatiently. Her eyes narrowed as she made eye contact with Marinette. Alya pointed down at the lock and mouthed the words, "Open up". The pigtailed girl rushed to the door and quickly unlocked it, letting her friend inside.

"I completely forgot you were coming!" Marinette apologized, bowing her head. "I was really busy working and needed a break and then-"

"Say no more," Alya laughed as she gave her friend a slap on the back. "You're lucky I don't plan on ratting you out to your parents. How mad would they be if they found out you closed the bakery in the middle of the day especially on a busy day like this?"

"That's why you shouldn't tell them?"

"I can keep my lips sealed, but for a price. Got any leftovers?"

Marinette giggled and pulled out a tray of day old pastries from beneath the counter. "I kept these just for you!" she smiled, offering the tray to her friend. "Take as many as you want. We can't sell them anymore after all." Alya grabbed fistfuls of treats and began to eat them one by one.

"Your parents certainly are the best bakers in all of Paris!" Alya laughed as she took a bite of cookie. "No wonder even Mr. Bourgeois eats here! And he's the most important man in the city aside from the king of course!"

"Ugh, don't remind me." Marinette rolled her eyes and slouched down against the counter. "Every time he comes by he brings Chloe. Seeing her at lessons is already more than I can handle. I can't stand that little brat. She acts like all of Paris revolves around her and doesn't realize that not every can be as rich and spoiled as her. I don't care how many pastries she buys here. She can buy them someplace else."

"Trust me, I understand. And now she totes around that girl named Sabrina as if she were a purse. The poor girl has to do all of Chloe's bidding, but I think she might enjoy it. She might be the first friend Chloe's had in a long time if you can even call that friendship."

"That's something I'll never comprehend. Who could be friends with a witch like her? She finds pleasure in being mean and spares no one."

With a laugh, Alya finished off another cookie and asked, "Are you still upset about the time she tripped you? Isn't that old news?"

"Alya, it happened last week," Marinette frowned. "And she didn't just trip me. I was trying to strike a deal with a vendor for a cheaper price on fabric when she walked by and completely kicked my leg out from underneath me! I fell into a puddle and ruined the fabric! I had to pay full price for it and now it's completely unusable. I'm not mad that she tripped me. I'm mad that she ruined a perfectly good piece of fabric!"

Alya tried hard to stifle her giggles. She pushed another cookie in her mouth and covered her mouth with her hand. Her cheeks puffed up as Marinette gave her a wary glance. Letting out an irritated sigh, Marinette asked, "I can see you aren't very sympathetic today. What's so funny?"

After swallowing, Alya laughed out loud, unable to contain it any longer. It was a hearty laugh, the kind that forces other people to smile because it was so infectious. Alya adjusted her glasses and put her hand on Marinette's shoulder.

"It's really nothing," she grinned, her cheeks red from laughing. "It's just so stereotypical you. Only Marinette would get upset over fabric! And I was replaying the scene in my head and it's still absolutely hilarious. You went headfirst into that puddle and the look on your face was priceless!"

"Oh yeah... I forgot you were there too. I'm so glad you rose to defend me," Marinette added sarcastically.

"You know I normally would, but it was too funny to pass up. Sorry! I'll make it up to you next time we see Chloe," Alya promised. "I'll give her a taste of her own medicine!" Alya held up a tight fist and thrust it into the air.

"Settle down there!" Marinette cried as she grabbed Alya's arm and pulled it back down. "No need to get violent! I don't want to get back at her. That wouldn't be right. I just wish Chloe would learn the consequences of her actions and also that money doesn't grow on trees. I had to spend every last franc in my purse to pay for the fabric."

Alya pulled Marinette over and rubbed her hand on her head, messing up Marinette's hair. "You're adorable, Marinette? You know that? I don't think I've ever met a girl so sweet. Honey seems sour compared to you!" Alya let go of Marinette and took another bite of her cookie. Between nibbles, she added, "Whoever gets to marry you is a lucky guy!"

"Alya!"

"What? We're sixteen now. You have to have at least started looking. I'm not saying you have to get married, but what about a boyfriend? There must be some handsome young man that's captured your eye. And don't try to play innocent with me! You're one of the most popular girls in town!I know there are all kinds of boys that come in here just to see your face. Surely one of them will do. Unlike you, my options are limited. You should take what you can get."

"Stop joking around, Alya. I know you have Nino so don't talk like that. You can try and hide it all you want, but I know you love him!"

Alya blushed and pushed her glasses high up her nose. "T-That's beside the point!" she stammered as she fiddled with her dress. "Don't try and change the subject, missy! 'Fess up! There has to be someone that's piqued your interest."

"Well, there is someone..." Marinette thought for a moment. "But it's a love that can't come true. If I told Alya, she'd only feel bad for me. It's best I keep it to myself. Even thinking about it too much starts to make me cry. I should've tried to forget about him a long time ago."

"If you're that embarrassed by it, you don't have to tell me. But I'm your best friend and we have to share these things with each other eventually. It's best friend law. I know it's your first crush, so it's bound to be super awkward, but you're already super awkward." Alya got a harsh glare from Marinette after that one. She held up her hands, signaling it was a mere joke, and continued on.

"Your first love is something you should celebrate, not hide! I want all the details when you're ready!"

Marinette still looked unconvinced. She lowered her head, letting her bangs hang in front of her face. She was completely embarrassed now, almost ashamed. She didn't like keeping secrets from Alya. They had best friends ever since she moved to Paris. They clicked instantly and rarely spent any time apart. They told each other everything which was how Marinette discovered Alya had a huge crush on Nino, the boy musician that lived a few doors down from the bakery. Marinette had figured it out before poor Alya did. After that, Alya openly discussed her love life with Marinette and maybe it was time to repay the favor.

"I guess it's fine..." Marinette said hesitantly.

Alya leaned forward, giving Marinette a hopeful smile. "Relax!" she grinned, beaming with confidence. "I won't judge. I just want to know the name of the guy that won your heart though he better watch out because he might become a target of the other boys. Jealousy is a dangerous game."

Marinette gave Alya a sad smile and sighed. "That won't be a problem because he's-"

Suddenly, a huge crowd of people brushed past the bakery windows, casting a dark shadow. "What's going on?" Alya asked. She stood up and wandered over to the windows. She pressed her face and hands against the glass and tried to peer through the crowd. "There's some big commotion out there! Let's go check it out!"

Leave it to Alya to jump right into the chaos. Alya dreamed of being a reporter which was an emerging job now that newspapers were becoming commonplace. She had a knack for gossip but always did her research. She had the type of drive and fearlessness one would expect from a journalist. Too bad that frequently got her into trouble and Marinette usually got dragged into it.

Alya opened the door and plunged into the crowd, not even waiting for Marinette to catch up. "Alya!" Marinette shouted as she raced out after her friend. She left the bakery, made sure the door was still locked, and then attempted to find her friend amongst the hundreds of people in the streets.

"What are all these people doing out here?" Marinette wondered as she pushed past rough arms and bony elbows. "I can hardly take one step without knocking into someone." There was something about the sudden crowd that confused Marinette. Normally having this many people in one area would be loud and chaotic, but everyone was strangely silent aside from a few whispers.

"What's going on and where the heck is Alya? I swear when I catch her, I'm really going to go off on her this time! She can't just run out into a crowd like this. What if she got hurt? What would I tell her family? What would I tell Nino?"

Marinette spotted Alya standing within the crowd, her bright red dress setting her apart from the others who were mostly dressed in somber greys and blacks. The girl was staring towards the streets, her eyes completely glazed over. There was a look of shock and sadness on her face. Her bright smile from only seconds before had vanished.

"What's wrong?" Marinette asked, grabbing her friend's shoulder in concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost. What are you staring at?" Then Marinette saw what Alya and the rest of the crowd were seeing.

In the center of the cobble street was a carriage being pulled by two white horses. From within the carriage, Marinette saw an older man with a stern expression. He was staring straight ahead with a look of mourning. Marinette recognized him immediately. He was the king, the ruler of all of Paris.

Her heart sank as she looked beyond the carriage. Attached to its back was a large wagon dressed in purple velvet and dozens of white roses. Within the wagon was a finely carved marble statue. The statue was of a young man who had a smile grander than the sun. The sculptor had done a fine job. It was so incredibly lifelike that Marinette stopped to wonder if it was real or not. She could see each strand of hair and every tensed muscle. Most importantly, she recognized that face just as the rest of Paris did.

It was a statue of Prince Adrien who was once known throughout the kingdom for his benevolence. Though he rarely left the palace due to his royal duties, everyone knew his face and heard of his kind actions. He fed the homeless, read books to little children, helped protect the rights of citizens in addition to so much more. He was a hero to the people. He was a shining light for the future. And unfortunately, he had been taken away from them far too soon.

"Has it been that long already?" Marinette wondered. Tears were beginning to form and she quickly wiped them away to no avail. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, letting it absorb her tears and her pain. Like everyone else, Marinette missed the prince, but her connection to him was stronger than most. He had brightened her world. He had been her everything. He taught her what it felt like to fall in love. Then just as quickly as he entered her life, he had vanished.

It had been exactly one year ago. It was a Friday which seemed insignificant, but everyone remembered. It was a rainy day like it had been for the past week. Dark clouds rolled through the skies already putting the city in a bad mood. Businesses were closed in preparation for the upcoming holiday which would be a city-wide celebration. Everyone was resting in their homes, enjoying the comfort and warmth of their families when the news arrived.

The official announcement was made that night underneath the cloudy covered stars. King Gabriel stood in the gateway of the palace. The flickering light of lanterns illuminated his face, giving him an unearthly glow. He was dressed in black and some said with his silver hair and dark glare, he looked like the grim reaper himself. He looked upon the vast crowd that had begun to form and cleared his throat. The audience went silent and looked up at their king with curious eyes.

"It is with great sadness," he began, his voice powerful, but clearly wavering. "That I relay this news to you, the loyal people of Paris. It is with a heavy heart filled with grief that I tell you today we lost my son to the other world. His passing was unexpected and far too sudden. He deserved more time than he had. To Paris, he was an amiable prince whose kindness knew no bounds. To me, he was a son that was everything I could have hoped for and more."

There was a sudden crack of thunder and the sky opened up into a barrage of raindrops. They attacked the king and everyone watching, stinging at their skin. But nobody moved. The rain coated the king's glasses with fine droplets, but he made no effort to wash them away. Instead, he pushed on.

"He touched the hearts of all of us. When he heard a cry in need, he could never turn away. That was the type of person he was and always has been. Even as a young child, I remember watching him pick flowers from the palace garden and handing them out to people on the streets as an act of goodwill. He was naive, I'll admit, but he could make anyone smile."

"When I lost my wife all those years ago, I wondered how I could move on. I could not abandon my kingdom while I wallowed in my own sorrows, but it was still hard for me to get back on my feet. Without my son, I might never have. Whenever I was upset, he smiled back at me and told me everything would be okay because we were together. It is because of him that I still stand before you here today."

"The expectations on my son were great. There were times when I was harsh and perhaps too strict. In my efforts to keep him safe, I neglected how he felt and focused solely on myself. The burden of my decisions will weigh on me for eternity since I will never again have the chance to tell my son I'm sorry."

"My son was, is, and would have been a great man. Let all of Paris remember his name. Let him not be forgotten with the passage of time. He will live on in our hearts as he watches us from another place. Be at peace, my son, my beloved Adrien."

The king's speech was brief but powerful. Word spread like wildfire that Prince Adrien had mysteriously died. There was no explanation for his untimely death. All people heard was that it was sudden or unexpected. The prince had never been the sickly type, so no one thought his life had been claimed by a dreaded disease. People assumed a terrible accident must have occurred instead. Something so tragic that the king could not bear to bring himself to speak of it.

Later that evening, every citizen in Paris lit a candle and set it outside their home in honor of the fallen prince. The air was filled with the scent of smoke and sadness as the king walked through the streets followed closely by the army in mourning of his son. That was the second time in his life that the king had ever shed tears. The first was the passing of his wife and now for the death of his son. He walked through the streets in silence until he returned home to his lonely, empty castle.

And that night, despite the thousands of burning candles in memoriam, the city of Paris had lost its light.

A service was held the next day in the palace gardens. The king's closest advisors and the most prominent Parisians attended while the rest of Paris's citizens waited outside the castle, straining to hear. A black casket sat in the center of bouquets of white roses. Behind it sat a portrait of the prince that had been painted only a month prior to his death. He was smiling, an everlasting memory of his good nature. Everyone knew he wouldn't want them to be sad because of his passing, but it was impossible to feel otherwise.

People took turns saying kind words. The king gave another speech but had to sit down halfway through due to his tears. Once the ceremony ended, people took turns walking up to the casket to say their good-byes. Many of them didn't know the prince personally, but they knew of his influence. They felt an attachment to him despite never meeting.

It was rumored that Chloe Bourgeois, the daughter of the wealthy politician, Andre Bourgeois, had to be dragged away from the casket by her father. Unlike many others, she was childhood friends with the prince. To most she was intolerable, but he always treated her with kindness and offered her a smile. Both had lost their mothers at a young age and it allowed them to connect though they had contrasting personalities. She lost the only friend she had. Since the moment she learned he was gone, the tears never stopped flowing.

Once the upper class had paid their respects, the common folk quickly followed. People were lined up around the palace as far as the eye could see. Marinette stood in that line for hours until she finally laid her eyes upon the black casket.

It was raining once again when she arrived, but she hardly noticed. She pressed her hand against the wet wood and thought, "Is he really in there?" She imagined him lying down, cold and lifeless like a doll. Her tears mixed in with the rain. She set her head against the casket and whispered, "I'll miss you." She placed the umbrella in her hands by the casket's side. "I thought I should return to this to you, but I never had the chance."

With that, she walked away, her head held high. What people saw was a strong girl, but on the inside, her heart had completely shattered into pieces.

"Marinette! Marinette? Are you okay?"

Marinette felt a forceful tugging on her sleeve. She looked over to see Alya fawning over her with worry. "I-I'm fine," Marinette murmured, her lip quivering. She had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she failed to notice how hard she was crying. Her eyes were red and puffy and there were stains down her face from where the tears had run.

Alya wrapped her arms around her friend, locking her in a tight embrace. "Don't cry," Alya whispered. She patted Marinette's head and rubbed her back gently. "Don't cry... I know it hurts. He was a great prince. I miss him too. It's okay to cry. Everyone feels your pain."

"But they don't!" Marinette shouted loudly. Alya pulled away from the hug in surprise. Her friend was heaving now. Her chest was violently heaving up and down in heavy sobs. "They don't know!" she cried again. "They don't know! They don't know, but I do! Has it really been a year? How could I forget?"

Marinette had fallen to the ground and was on her knees. She didn't care if her dress got muddy or if the hole got bigger. She just wanted to sit there and cry.

As the king's carriage moved past, the crowd of people began to disperse and left behind only Alya and Marinette on the side of the street. Alya kneeled down beside her friend, trying to understand what was wrong. "Marinette, you need to stand up," she said softly, trying to pull Marinette to her feet. "Let's get you back to the bakery. You need a break. We can talk there."

Marinette slung her arm over Alya's shoulder and the two slowly made it back into the bakery. Alya sat Marinette down into a chair and brought her some tea to help calm her down. The pigtailed girl shook as she tried to sip the tea, nearly dropping it each time. As Marinette's breathing began to calm down, Alya attempted to discover what was wrong.

"What's going on?" Alya asked. "This is one time I need to know the truth." Her gaze was serious. Alya had never seen her friend fall apart like that. Marinette was usually all smiles, not tears. Something was very wrong.

"I-"

Marinette's words stopped there. They wouldn't come out. Her lips couldn't form the right sounds. Everything still seemed so surreal. All the pain and suffering felt like it should be impossible. The cause of the grief felt intangible. In her mind, she could still hear his words. She could still see his face. She could still reach out and touch him. Had it really been a year since he was gone?

"Marinette? What a fitting name for a beautiful, young lady..."

He said that to her when they first properly met. She could remember it as clear as day. Every detail down to the color of the umbrella, the scent of the air, the sound of her breathing, and his smirk when he said her name. In that instant, she believed it was the start of something new. What she discovered was the end of something else.

Alya bit the inside of her cheek and crossed her legs. She would wait for Marinette. A good friend would.

After a few more minutes of silence, Marinette took a deep breath. "I think I'm better now," she said slowly. She gave Alya a weak smile just to prove it. "I just didn't realize today was the one-year anniversary. It all came over me so quick that it was hard for me to handle. I remembered his face and then everything came rushing back. I'm sorry for causing a scene."

"You didn't cause a scene. It's good to get it all out every once and awhile, so please don't criticize yourself."

"Thanks. I should probably tell you the full story. It's the least I could do."

"Take your time," Alya replied. "Don't push yourself too hard. I'm here all day. I'll sit here for the rest of the week if you need me to. I'll even skip my date with Nino tomorrow."

"So you two are dating?" giggled Marinette. A bit of color returned to her face which relieved Alya. Marinette was already back to smiling again.

"We're not dating yet," Alya protested with grin. "We're just testing things out. He has to pass a lot of trials if he wants to be the man of my dreams."

"Cut him some slack. He already tries so hard. Didn't he write you a song?"

"Yes and he played it for me in front of the entire town square. Talk about embarrassing. How could I fall for a loser like that? I'm sure the guy you like is much lot cooler than Nino. Granted, everyone is cooler than Nino, but that's beside the point."

Alya noticed Marinette's expression darken and she was struck by a grave realization. "Marinette..." she breathed, her voice going hoarse. "Marinette, it couldn't be that you were in love with-"

"The prince?" Marinette shrugged her shoulders. Her eyes turned vacant as she stared into the distance. "It seems absurd, doesn't it? We only talked once, but that was enough. I knew a prince like him would never like a baker's daughter like me. He was better suited to someone like Chloe, but I kept dreaming. I'm still dreaming. Even though he's gone, I still feel like he's here and that's why I can't let go."

"I never knew. Mari... I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. It's not anyone's fault. If anything, it's mine for falling in love. It's my responsibility to move on, but I can't yet. There's a part of me that hopes that one day I'll see him walking through the streets again and I can see his smile. If I'm lucky, he might even remember my name."

"..."

Marinette suddenly stood up, nearly knocking over her tea. "Listen to me ramble on like this," she scorned herself. "It doesn't do any good to mope around. Wow! Look at the time! The bakery has been closed for nearly forty-five minutes now. If my parents find out, I'll be in big trouble! I need to open back up and you should head home. You probably need to look after your siblings, right?"

She grabbed Alya's hand and pulled her up. Then she grabbed a bag and filled it with the remaining leftover pastries. "Take these!" Marinette decided as she shoved the bag into Alya's arms. "Your family will love them. There are even some extra cream puffs from this morning, but don't tell my parents I put those in there!"

"Are you sure you're okay now?" Alya asked warily. She had been friends with Marinette long enough to spot a truth from a lie. No matter what Marinette said, everything was not okay. Still, if Marinette needed space, Alya would respect that.

Marinette quickly nodded her head. "Pssh... I'm fine. I won't let a few tears get me down. I'm tougher than that." She flexed her arm and gave Alya a wink.

"Okay girl," Alya laughed. "Whatever you say. But if you need anything, you know I'm always right around the corner. I'm here for you."

"Thanks. I really appreciate it."

After exchanging a few more good-byes, Alya left the bakery, a bag stuffed to the brim with pastries in hand. Marinette watched her until she was out of sight and then breathed a sigh of relief. She headed towards the back room, not bothering to switch the "closed" sign to "open". She had no intention of reopening the shop. She would gladly take her parents' punishment later.

"I feel bad sending Alya away like that," Marinette thought as she trudged up to her bedroom. "She's genuinely worried about me, but I don't know how much she can help. It's my own problem and I really need to get over it. What's the point of holding onto a crush on someone who's dead, not to mention a prince?"

Marinette grabbed a spool of thread and a needle. She sat down on her bed and began to stitch the hole shut. The dress was probably ruined after kneeling in the dirt, but Marinette decided to fix it anyways. Sewing always helped ease her mind. In the future, she wanted to be a famous tailor or designer. She had the skill, but it was a difficult field to enter.

"I really need to find something else to take my mind off the prince. Maybe Alya was right. There are plenty of nice boys that stop by and talk to me. Nathanael is especially nice. I might try talking to him the next time he visits. I just need a change of pace... something different."

Marinette looked down at the mended hole and gave it a nod of approval. "Not bad... You can hardly tell I ripped it. Maybe if I wash it well I can still keep this dress. I like it and it would be a waste to get rid of it."

She stood up and walked over to the mirror. Her appearance was a mess as expected. Her hair had fallen out of place and her face was bright red. There were dirt stains not only on her dress but arms and legs as well. Marinette felt gross from crying and made a note to take a bath right away. Some warm water might help soothe her.

CLANG!

"What was that?" Marinette thought in alarm. The noise sounded like it came from the bakery, but no one should have been in there. Alya had locked the door.

BUMP!

"There it is again! Is someone down there? What should I do?" Marinette picked up the bottom of her dress and stealthily walked down the stairs. She snuck through the hallway towards the front of the bakery. She pressed her back against the wall of the backroom, keeping her breath low.

"What am I going to do if it's an intruder? I don't have anything to fight him off. There are some pots and pans here, but I don't know how effective they'll be. Should I go back upstairs and hide until Papa and Maman come home?"

THUD!

"It sounds like they're ruining the place, though. I have to do something! I can't let them destroy the bakery like this!" Marinette eyed a nearby pan and quickly snatched it. Gripping the handle tightly, she gave it a test swing. If she could get enough power behind it, the pan might be able to do some damage.

"You can do this, Marinette! Be brave!"

Marinette took a few soothing deep breaths to remain calm. Then she jumped out from behind the wall, frying pan ready to fly. In fighting stance, she looked at the display and saw a tiny, bug-like creature sitting on top of the plate of cookies. It was happily eating its way through the pile without a care in the world.

"It was a bug?" Marinette thought in relief. "Thank goodness. How could a bug make that much noise, though? And why is it so big? This might be a bigger problem than I thought..."

Marinette moved cautiously toward the bug. She planned to chase it out, but the frying pan could quickly turn into a bug squisher if need be. The creature watched Marinette move closer with big, blue eyes. It didn't stop nibbling on the cookies.

"Careful..." Marinette whispered, sneaking closer. "Easy now..."

Suddenly the bug dropped the cookie and gasped. A huge smile emerged on its face as it exclaimed in a high voice, "It's you!"

Marinette let out the loudest scream she had ever heard before.