After horseback riding and fencing lessons, Marinette was exhausted. Tutor Plagg, a tall, broad man with hair darker than her own and eyes as green as poison, was lecturing her on something about the country's history, but Marinette, try as she might, couldn't focus on what was being said. Though she stared at the board, her thoughts were closer to her vision.
Although Marinette didn't want to think too much about it, her conversation last night bothered her more than she really wanted it to.
Who were the Akumas, and what did they want? She couldn't understand the point of men scaring people into staying in bed after dark. Was it power? Money, they were after? She couldn't imagine the symbolism of the purple capes, and why did they burn that... bag... last night? More than anything, Marinette wondered why she hadn't heard of them if they'd been rampaging for over half a year. She was given almost daily lessons pertaining to the country's history, society, manners, and so much more, but this important, fear-mongering group wasn't important enough for her to know about? Marinette stifled a sigh and then changed her thoughts to someone else.
Chat Noir...
Marinette blushed absentmindedly and started doodling a black cat on her notes. He was... Well, to be honest, he was cute. It was hard to see exactly what he looked like in the middle of the night in the dark like that, but maybe it was just the way his body prowled like a cat on the move (Marinette decided that his weird costume was actually rather fitting) or the disconnect between his sunny demeanor despite being clad in black.
Tutor Plagg interrupted Marinette's thoughts. "Marinette, are you listening?"
Marinette's head shot up. "Yes," she lied.
Plagg glared coldly. He went over and picked up one of his little cheese cubes and stuck one in his mouth, taking his time to chew before he swallowed. Marinette had noticed he did that when he was frustrated. She imagined he took that time to count down from ten to avoid a blow up, but she was glad for the moment to process what he'd just been talking about.
After a few moments, Plagg let out a breath. "No, you weren't. What's going on in your mind?"
She avoided looking down at her cat drawing. Then looked at the board. Then, she decided the best thing to do was tell the truth—just not the full truth.
"I miss my dad," said Marinette. She looked down at her hands and tried forcing tears to come to her eyes. It was surprisingly easily.
"He's only gone for a few weeks," Plagg stated bluntly.
Marinette glared up at him briefly. "He's been busy for months, and now I won't see him for another entire month. That makes me miss him." She took a shaky breath. "Sir," she added as an afterthought.
She stared at her hands, and suddenly real tears dripped down. This past year was never ending. This was her life now. And she never felt lonelier that when surrounded by everything she'd always thought she wanted. Marinette missed home. That dingy, small, two-bedroom apartment that small town on the outskirts of the kingdom. The curtains that the three of them had made out of old, thrifted bedsheet. The pull-out couch that was Marinette's bed, the one that had a loose spring on the left side that Marinette hated back then, but that she missed so, so much now.
Suddenly, Tutor Plagg whacked a book on the desk in front of her. She let out a yelp and looked at him in surprise. The middle-aged, dark-haired man glared at her. His clean-shaven face looked scratchy and old, with his perfectly fitted clothes and perfectly stern rules. "This is your life now, do you understand? Dwelling on things that were do nothing for that which will be. Right now, you need to focus on where you are now."
Marinette felt hot with anger. He was the only one who seemed to treat Mae like a human being, the same as they treated everyone else, and he was the only one Marinette wished would treat her like a princess and let her get away with daydreaming.
She stared at him, feeling her already-lost voice close in her throat. She shook her head vigorously and held out her pencil on paper, signifying that she was ready to take notes. She tried smiling. It took a lot of energy.
Tutor Plagg frowned at her look and gave a large sigh. He walked over to the board and flipped it off, the way he usually ended a lesson. Marinette, grateful, started to pack her books away, but before she could rise, Tutor Plagg said with an odd tone, "Stay sitting, Marinette. I want to tell you a story."
She did, of course. Marinette watched as Tutor Plagg grabbed his black rollie chair from his desk and rolled it in front of her. She watched with confusion. But when he looked at her with a mixture of kindness and sadness, her throat closed up even more.
"Have you ever heard the story of the duck?"
She shook her head.
He let out yet another sigh. Marinette looked down at her empty paper, not wanting to keep looking into that kind face any longer. He continued, "It's an important story in our country. One of the only old stories that was actually passed down from man to man. It goes like this:
"There was a man who sat on the rock above a slow-moving river. He liked to simply observe everything that Earth had to offer. One day, he saw a duck who tried to swim up the river. At the end of the river, the duck knew there was a great bunch of grapes, waiting for him. But on his swim, a current caught him. He swam against it and swam against it, but the old man on the rock watched as, all of a suddenly, the duck let go, and swam with the current. For years, he thought about that duck on the rock. He hated the way the duck just gave up after trying so hard. And yet, the old man never thought about the fact that he had never left his rock."
Tutor Plagg stopped there. Marinette waited for him to continue his story, but after peeking up at him, she saw that he was done and waited for a response.
"Okay?" she asked, a little sassier than she probably should have.
"What do you think about this story? Tutor Plagg asked.
Marinette shrugged.
"Okay, so then I have another question for you as you ponder the first: Do you think the duck or the man was happier?"
Marinette shrugged again. "They both sound pretty sad to me."
Tutor Plagg nodded slowly. A few moments passed longer as she stared at her desk. The polished wood was lovely. It probably costed more than all the desks at her old high school, honestly.
The silence was broken by Tutor Plagg. His voice was soft, kind again. She'd never heard him so soft before. He said, "I don't want you to end up like the duck. I don't want you to end up like the man. Especially since you already have the grapes.
She glared up at him. He didn't know. What were grapes, anyway, when maybe all she wanted to do was just sit with the man or swim with the duck? Grapes meant nothing when she was eating them alone. Instead of responding about lazy men and depressed ducks, Marinette choked out, "Don't you have somewhere to be... sir?"
He stood from his desk, away from her angry expression. But he didn't look offended by her obvious dismissal. Tutor Plagg grabbed his bag, looked at the clock, which would definitely be ending class about fifteen minutes early. But he seemed to realize that Marinette wouldn't learn anything new for the rest of their meeting.
Walking towards the main door, he said, "If you ever need to talk, I am not just a tea kettle of knowledge. I can also understand."
Marinette didn't respond as she stared at the wooden desk. There was a soft click as the door closed.
She sat there until the clock struck twelve. With a sigh, knowing she'd be expected at lunch, she started towards the dining room. As she walked, Marinette tried to find something new to look at in the hallway. But walking this well-lit hallway with giant windows every day for 6 months, she was too used to the pictures on the wall, the growing plants in random pots, and the Greek sculptures. They were beautiful, and she knew it. She was grateful for it, somewhere behind the self-pity waddled up in her mind. But until she got past that, mentally complaining was the only thing keeping her sane. As she looked down on hallway, something new stopped Marinette in her tracks.
"Luka," she whispered and started forward the person she hadn't seen in over a year. But then a guard got in front of him, and Marinette instantly felt on the defense for her friend, so she walked faster, her high heels clipping behind her.
Luka turned his head at the sound of her heels echoing in the large corridor, and he instantly broke into a smile. His smile broke her heart in the best way because something she knew so well was older, more mature, but still so happy. In a second, she saw his once-blue hair had been cut into formal, natural black hair. His blue eyes shone from over 20 feet away, and he was taller than ever, dressed in servants' attire.
Servants' attire?
Marinette stopped immediately, tripping slightly as the larger guard stepped in front of Luka and caught her before she could fall over.
"Are you okay, Your Highness?"
Marinette looked at the bulky guard and smiled sheepishly. "Yes, thank you. I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. What's going on?"
She glanced over his shoulder at Luka, who stood next to two other young servant boys—almost men. Luka shook his head almost imperceptibly, and Marinette realized their friendship needed to be secret immediately. She looked at the three servants, all of whom gave her a bow. She gave a slight curtsy, and said, "Who are these?"
The buff, bald, tan guard gave a nod to the three boys. "These young men are our new guards. They have been in training for months and came at the top of the class. Number one here is Luka," he nodded to Luka, who nodded back. "Next we have Kim." Two nods. "And Chloe." She nodded. Marinette was surprised to see such a pretty, young girl guard. She thought there were rules about that, but apparently not.
Marinette nodded politely. "I'm sure they are up to the task, General Manden" she complimented him. "I've heard your courses are rigorous."
He gave a proud smile. "We are here to serve the king with the best of the best," he said with conviction.
"Do you know what your roles are?" Marinette asked, unsure if she was allowed to know or even ask.
General Manden became serious immediately, standing firmly. "Luka, state your position."
Luka stood straight, looking in front of him obediently. "Guard to the Princess, sir."
Marinette forced herself to hide her immediate excitement with a polite smile.
"Max, state your position."
Max repeated the stance. "Rotating guard, sir."
"Chloe, state your position."
"Guard to the Princess, sir," she said in the same stance but with a strong voice. Marinette raised an eyebrow. Two new guards?"
"I'm incredibly pleased with you three," Marinette said. Kim looked proud, Luka grateful, and Chloe stoic. "Serving the King and Queen is an incredible task." She turned to the general. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to the other two guards?"
"I do not mind you asking, Your Highness, but that is confidential information."
Marinette deflated a little bit. "I understand, thank you for your time." She took a little glance back at Luka again, and said, "I have to go to lunch now, thank you," she said before turning to walk back down the hallway.
General's voice stopped her. "Luka, assist the Princess now. Your shift starts at 12 o'clock noon sharp each day. You start now."
"Yes, sir," he confidently said back.
Marinette waited until she and Luka, a few spaces behind her, made it around the corner before speaking. "So."
Luka let out a quiet chuckle under his breath. "So. Your highness."
Marinette turned, unsure what expression he'd hold on his face. But the playful glee and shiny eyes behind the stoic face—likely for his job, she realized—set her heart at ease, and suddenly, she felt like crying. So she turned away and said quietly, unsure who could be listening, and wanting to avoid trouble for him, "How was training?"
"Difficult..." There was a moment of silence, and just as they turned into the dining hall, he coughed, and she looked before sitting down in the empty table. He made direct eye contact with her, and Marinette's heart jumped a little. "But worth it," he whispered.