The fifteen-year-old bluenette raced through the corridors, praying to whoever answered prayers that her parents would be okay. She turned sixteen tomorrow and all she wanted was to have her mother and father beside her.

But their conditions had only been getting worse. The young woman had gotten news mere minutes ago that they had just hit the lowest they'd ever been and she had immediately rushed off through the palace to see them for what could possibly be the last time.

Slowing as she reached the ornate door before her, she straightened her tiara and ran her hands over her dress, making sure she was presentable. Taking a deep breath, she knocked as she opened the door to enter.

Her Majesty Queen Sabine raised her head at the sound of the hinges, a smile forming painfully on her face.

"Oh, Mari… you didn't have to rush, dear. We're fine."

Princess Marinette Elise Sarai Dupain-Cheng shook her head. "No, you're not, Maman. You and Papa have been sick for three fortnights. And you're not getting any better." She crossed the room to sit by the large bed in which her parents were resting.

"How's Papa?" She asked, noticing that her father had been silent.

King Tom rolled over to face his daughter. "I'm alright, sweets."

Marinette sighed, knowing they were anything but alright, but letting it slide because they would never tell her otherwise. She stood to leave, hoping this wasn't the last time she'd enter this room to visit them. Just as she reached the door, she thought she heard her father whisper, "Do it for love, dear, and nothing else."

~ MLB ~

Sir Adrien Athanese Agreste took great care every morning riding his face of any emotion. It had quickly become part of his daily routine after his mother had vanished and his father had turned cold. Today, this routine was especially important. His cousin Felix Graham de Vanily was supposed to visit today, though he had canceled such meetings before.

Adrien adjusted his sleeves till they sat at a comfortable position on his arm, about 4.5 in (11.43 cm) from his wrist. Taking one last deep breath, he left his chambers. Easily navigating the Agreste Manor, it took him only a couple of minutes to reach his destination. Large, decorative, double doors that lead to his father, Lord Gabriel Agreste. Just behind those doors was his father's study. A room he hated setting foot in.

He knocked, waiting for permission to be granted before entering.

"Father. How do you find yourself this morning?" Adrien began politely.

"Annoyed by the interruption. What do you want?" Gabriel said coolly.

"I simply wanted an update on Felix's arrival." His face revealed nothing.

"He'll be arriving just after the thirteenth hour if all goes well. Now leave me." Still, Adrien kept his features blank. He nodded and exited the cursed room.

Barely had he left when Plagg, his best friend and the one person who truly knew him (well, beside her, but Plagg didn't need to know she existed yet. She was better off remaining a secret), appeared beside him. Plagg had a way of doing that. Just popping up places from seemingly nowhere.

"Plagg."

"Adrien."

"Do you need something?" Adrien asked, the slightest hint of smile twitching on his mouth.

"Where were you last night? You weren't in your chambers, the gardens, the library, or out riding. So where were you?"

Well, perhaps she wouldn't be remaining a secret much longer.

"What do you mean?" An attempt at obliviousness. Plagg was generally smarter than that, but Adrien could try.

Plagg didn't buy it. "You went somewhere last night. I don't care where, or why, or any of those boring details, but I need to know if you plan on doing it again. I'd be willing to cover for you if you can manage to get me some of that Camembert cheese."

Adrien almost couldn't hold back a laugh. He should have known. Plagg was about 20% useful, 30% brains, and 50% stomach. He was always thinking about food, cheese in particular. Adrien almost regretted introducing him to the new love of his life: Camembert.

Almost.

The pair turned the corner and the corridor ahead of them was empty. Adrien finally let it out, a huge grin stretching from ear to ear.

"You've got yourself a deal."

~ MLB ~

Alya Césaire had no title. She owned no gowns. She couldn't afford a new pair of shoes. But she was happy. No, happy isn't quite right.

She was content.

Yes, Alya was content. She lived well. She had shelter and food. She had a job and a loving family. She could live her entire life this way and be just fine.

Well, except for the fact that Alya stands for justice. No matter what. And the kingdom she lived in… wasn't serving justice to the right people.

The village of Antiçon was on the very outskirts of the Kingdom of Epiviel, far from the capital, Lillac. It was here that the Césaire family owned a small inn, and here that Alya first made of name for herself.

You see, Alya wasn't like many other girls. She'd grown up watching her sister, Nora, break every stereotype a girl could have and Alya strived to live up to that example. While her mother and younger sisters, Ella and Etta, wore simple dresses, Alya had always worn a simple white cotton shirt and faded orange overalls. The outfit matched her aesthetic better and made her job easier. Running around serving food and showing people to their rooms all day was no easy task with a skirt.

Although Alya helped with her family's business, her passion was far from it. Anytime she could in a way that wouldn't negatively affect the inn, she'd be off hunting for news.

Most of her news was about Chloé Bourgeois, a spoiled noblemen's daughter who thought she could get away with anything.

What made the Bourgeois stand out, you ask? While the majority of nobility would do anything they could to live close to the capital, to the palace, the Bourgeois moved to one of the poorest villages they could find and came to flaunt their wealth. And even if this was not their true intent, it wouldn't have mattered, as that's what all the townspeople saw it as.

But that was Alya during the day. Come nightfall and she became someone new, someone even more daring, someone who would make a true difference.

The church bell sounded, announcing it to be midnight. The inn had slowed down hours ago and most were asleep.

Alya, however, was not. Currently, she was silently making her way towards the old abandoned blacksmith's shop, about a quarter of a mile (402.336 m) out of town. Dressing in an orange and white fox-themed bodysuit, her wavy auburn hair tied back, fox ears apparent on her skull, and with a mask hiding her face, she was on her way to a meeting with Queen Bee.

You see, Alya was a rebel. Yes, that's right, a rebel. And so was Queen Bee. Going by the name of Rena Rouge, she and her fellow rebels sought to save their beloved kingdom. As much as they loved and respected the current monarchy, Queen Sabine didn't have the slightest idea of what was good for her people and what wasn't. She was too kind for her own good, giving away more than could possibly be financially sound for the kingdom.

And so the rebels met every third night at midnight. There weren't many among their numbers, but they figured that it was better that way. At least for now.

Rena was one of the first, Queen Bee having joined her soon after that. The two girls had decided to be co-leaders, hoping the difference of opinions (as they always seemed to stand on opposite ends of decisions) would help the group to ultimately see all sides of the argument.

As she approached the building, she once again wondered who exactly Queen Bee was, behind the yellow and black mask the blonde rebel wore. Whoever she was, Alya had a lot to thank her for.

"I was starting to think you weren't going to show," came a feminine voice from the shadow of the establishment.

"Pardon my lateness, there was trouble getting away from family," Rena replied.

"Ah, yes. I forget you have a harder time escaping than I do." Queen Bee murmured, slipping into view. Her yellow and black bodysuit sparkled in the moonlight, her blonde hair pulled up in a high ponytail. A single black stripe traveled from her forehead to the tip of her hair. Her blue eyes glistened with curiosity, surely wondering what the meeting was for. Rena met Queen Bee's gaze with her own chocolaty irises.

"I'm sure you heard the announcement in town today."

"Yes… It's unfortunate."

"I say we wait till the end of the month, then we go straight into Plan Princess. We'll give her a month, just in case she turns out to be a better leader than her parents were, but if not…" Rena trailed off, knowing Queen Bee would catch the meaning of the silence.

"I see your reasoning. I agree, it seems like a worthwhile reaction."

"I'm glad we came to the same conclusion."

"Me too, Rena, me too."

~ MLB ~

Much closer to Lillac sits the small city of Barac. It is here we find Nino Lahiffe, a young shoemaker following in his father's footsteps (don't you just love when you pun on accident?), despite having a talent for storytelling.

The young man truly wanted to be a play writer, to have nobles fighting over seats to plays he's written. He longed for the theatrics of his own worlds. And yet here he sat, making shoes.

A small twinkling sound could be heard, a sign of someone entering the shop. Nino could hear his father, Boden Lahiffe, welcoming the customer. Normally the sixteen-year-old would come and join his father, to keep up appearances. But today, he felt a great sense of foreboding and ultimately decided to stay where he was.

That is until his father called his name. Nino arose, curious as to where this was going. He didn't expect to see a royal messenger standing there, with direct orders from the princess to bring him to the palace.

What in the world was he about to get himself into?

AHHHHHH! I'm SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS, GUYS!

Also, just for the sake of the AU, not everyone's personalities are going to match them perfectly from the show, sorry.