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Marinette's P.O.V

"Be more graceful like a leaf falling from a tree!"

"Do not avoid your partner's eye contact!"

"One, two, three! One, two, three! Remember every step! Your dancing has to be absolutely perfect!"

"Darling, smile like you are having the grandest time of your life!" Mother instructed me over the sound of the ballroom music. Her words made me want to scowl harder but I forced myself with every muscle in my body to smile. Although, I do think my smile might be more frightening and tense than soft and gentle.

The male I am partnered with did a good job of not showing his true emotions towards my extreme distaste in all of this. Although, his job would be on the line if he refused my mother's wishes or show any sign of negative reaction.

Fortunately, the song is nearly over. Then, I can retreat to my bedroom and continue writing letters. I may despise writing those blasted letters but it is a fantastic excuse to not see mother for the rest of the night. My mind began to wander, looking forward to turning in for the night.

Of course, my foolish mistake would get me into trouble when I am nearly done.

My partner yelped.

I stumbled back in guilt.

The music stopped.

I can feel eyes burning through my very soul.

"I am so sorry," I quietly apologized, "I did not mean to step on your foot."

The servant was about to wave it off when mother stormed over.

"You piece of filth! What did you do?" she yelled. The man stepped back in fear, unknowing of how to defend himself without making the situation worse.

I stepped in between the two, narrowing my gaze at my mother.

"It was not his fault! I lost my focus and accidentally stepped on his foot!" I defended the man. Mother shot me a cold glare.

"You need to stop defending scum! Do you not recall the last time you did that? You were this close to ruining your entire future," Mother sharply yelled, showing me the length with two fingers close together.

"I will not stop defending innocent people who have done nothing wrong! People who have remained loyal under you for years and desperately need a job to live their life," I responded with just as much malice.

"I will not have whatever is left of your reputation be tainted! Your life—reputation depends on it! You will ruin everything you have worked on for years," mother scrambled, caught in her words. I did not care for her slip up. I am sick and tired of these games we play.

I shake my head, walking backward to gain closer to my bedroom.

"Mother..." I said in the steadiest tone I could muster, "...you have already ruined everything for me ages ago."

"Marinette!"

I stomped out of the ballroom, hoping that man does not pay for my actions. My heels clicked down the dark hallway and my nails dig into the palm of my hands.

"She is so delusional," I hissed through clenched teeth, wanting to scream. If I do that though, I will cause an unnecessary ruckus.

"She seems quite stressed about something," Tikki commented.

"Stressed? What should she be stressed about? Having a disgraceful daughter who rebels against her every command?" I sarcastically replied, "I am surprised I have not been booted out of this house yet."

"I do not know the reason for her stress but you were not in the wrong," the Kwami of creation said, happily.

"I am glad you were chosen to be my holder, Marinette. You may be related to rich blood but you do not let it be a part of who you are. Maybe, you will finally end this war. You will prove that status is vulgar and everyone stands on the same earth, whether it is flat land or on top of a hill."

"I would love to have a future like that, not the one mother has planned out in her head," I longingly spoke, "Do you believe I am capable of leading everyone to that bright future? It does sound like a tough road to travel on."

"Every road has its bumps and uphill. Those can be very tough and treacherous to scale. But there are also easier paths that are smooth and downhill," Tikki responded, "Besides, when has difficult road ever stopped you, so far."

"I suppose you are right," I agreed, petting the top of the red bug's head. Tikki's smile widened.

"You are so adorable, you know that?" I added as we turned the corner. Then, I froze and my smile instantly vanishes. I stare at the double doors with sleeping guards and light protruding out from underneath.

My parent's room.

My mother is obviously not in there and my father is known to work late into the night in his office. Surely no servants would be cleaning at this time. So...who could be in their room at this moment?

I knelt and slipped off my heels, placing them off the side. I began to quietly tiptoe over to the doors (trying not to startle the guards awake and scare off the intruder). I quietly turn the knob and open the door a crack to peek inside.

Again, the cloaked intruder is rummaging through my parent's drawers and papers. I need to find a way to sneak in without alerting whoever this is. But how?

I assume this person somehow came in through the window, considering they are open. These doors are another way of getting in and the servant's secret passageways-

Like a flickering candle, an idea lit up in my head. The secret passageways! Of course! I quietly move away from the door to search for the nearest entryway. The servants used to let me play in them when I was younger. I still use them at times to this day in case of an emergency. If I recall, the closest entryway is in the kitchen. I need to hurry there before the intruder escapes again.

While I head toward the kitchen, my mind begins to race.

"What could this person be searching for? My parents are not any different than the average wealthy classmen. Maybe, this person is trying to find something to sell for money. Maybe, Lila sent a spy to search for information (although, that could just be my bitter side for my enemy talking)."

Whatever the reason, the answer lies within my parent's room. This intruder has been persistent enough with their mission to return again. This intruder's target must be very important.

I arrive in the kitchen and thank my lucky stars that the chefs have retired for the night. I head over to a shelf with scuffle marks on the floor and easily push it aside, revealing a secret tunnel.

A straight shot toward my parent's room...I assume anyway. I quickly journey through the passage. My bare feet pad against the cool stone and my dress drags along the surface (probably getting a bit torn).

"Are you sure it is wise to face this foe without any help?" Tikki asked, floating near me.

"I do not want to cause any more of a ruckus than there already is. The intruder could get away again. I could accidentally get two guards fired for "sleeping on the job." And...I do not think anybody would believe me, anyway. So, it does not matter," I explained.

"These are troubling times," Tikki commented, "I do hope for a better future."

I nodded in agreement.

I slowed down to walking on tiptoes again when we came upon a wall-like door. This door is quieter than the main loud, creaking double doors. This will make it easier to sneak up on the breaker-in.

My hand gently pushed the door, making it swing open halfway. The intruder is still rummaging through my parent's things. I glanced over at Tikki who looked right back at me. The Kwami flew into my dress's hidden pocket.

I carefully take a step into the room and head directly for my parent's bed. I am not crazy enough to stand up to an intruder without a weapon. That would be stupid.

I remember my father telling me stories of his time before me. He was considered a world-class fencer though he was not the highest ranked and performed in a few championships. Yet, he gave it all up to be with my mother...for some reason.

My father may have given up his days of fencing but that did not mean he gave up his saber. I slide out a cloth-covered saber and unravel it.

My father's sword gleams with a sense of pride and glory. I grip the handle with my hands, noticing a big difference. The sword is too large for me to handle but perfect for my father.

I raise the blade like raising a hero from the ashes. I found this sword to be legendary when I was younger. I dreamed of wielding it one day just like my father did.

Now, it is just a plain saber. My respect for this beautiful weapon has died over the years of torment and rejection for my beloved sport. Yet, my fiery passion has not been completely extinguished. I have found a new purpose to pursue in my favorite hobby.

Being a superhero.

My respect for this saber may be gone but I will never give up sword fighting. I will use my abilities to continue a legacy that happened before me for a different purpose—protecting innocent lives.

I may have many reasons to despise my mother, but that does not mean I will not protect her. Just like Ladybug protects all of Paris, including the foulest of scumbags. This intruder messed with my family—attacked my mother.

I steadily approach with quiet feet, saber readily gripped in my grasp. Chat Noir had taught me how to sneak up on an unsuspecting opponent. But there is one type of opponent that is difficult to sneak up on (unless they are as well-trained as Chat Noir).

I maneuver my weapon so I can use the butt of it to hit their head and hopefully hit the right spot to knock them out. I was about to strike when my movement suddenly freezes. I notice an odd smell in the air. This one is different from my mother's assault.

"Why can I not move?" I thought until I realized the reason. This intruder is not a regular bugler.

This person is a witch.

"You should be in bed right now, my lady," the witch said, turning around and pulling off their hood.

I am stunned to see the true face of the intruder...but should I even call her that?

"Ella?"

Ella smiled and shook her head in denial. She drew closer with a vial, blue smoke swirling within it.

"Please..." she began, pouring the smoky-like potion upon her head. Soon, her features and clothing transformed into a whole new look. A getup that is very familiar within newspaper articles and displayed on wanted posters across Paris. A criminal whispered about every so often among the rich.

She grabbed another vial with purple smoke floating inside. She attached some type of perfume lid onto the top and pointed it at me. Her hand held onto the nozzle, preparing to squeeze.

"...call me Princess Fragrance."

The last thing I remember before going unconscious was a purple mist.

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Adrien's P.O.V

"Thank you for the meal, Lady Olympia. It was delicious," I said, giving a nod of appreciation.

"Darn tootin' it was," the elder woman agreed.

While I was not lying about the food being delectable, it was very awkward sitting at the table. There was hardly any conversation between the three of us. I am sure there would have been more talking if I were not included in the meal. Zoe seemed a bit dazed the entire time.

I regret anything I had said or done. She seems more distant than when I arrived. Now, she sits in her movable seat and quietly bids me farewell.

"I am gonna go clean them dishes before I am too worn out," Olympia excused herself, leaving me and Zoe by ourselves. I could tell it was an excuse to get away to let talk.

"I am sorry for my rude behavior. I did not mean to hurt you. I was being very inconsiderate and did not realize the situation," I apologized to the blonde. Zoe sighed, shaking her head from side to side slightly.

"No, I should be the one apologizing. I should not have treated you so unkindly. My guardian probably forgot to mention my...problem," Zoé replied.

I raised an unimpressed eyebrow, thinking, "She also forgot to mention she has an adopted daughter."

"You see..." Zoé hesitantly began, "...I used to be able to walk and run around when I was young like a normal child. Unfortunately, fate decided to change me.

"I feel numerous emotions with different events. Sometimes, I feel guilty I cannot help out. Other times, I feel sorrow that I cannot greet someone with something as simple as a handshake. It does bother me. I know I should be used to it by now...but it is not that easy..."

She trailed off, looking down at her lap. I feel awful for her. She has already had to deal with this for a while...and at such a young age. I could never imagine the heavy weight resting upon these two women.

"Unfortunately...I am the master of causing my own foolish mistakes," she concluded.

"Your life must be very difficult," I commented before glancing at the chair with wheels, "Who made this contraction?"

Zoé soon had a smile spread across her lips.

"A friend of mine built this wheelchair for me. His name is Max Kanté. He is an ingenious fellow," she answered, "He sometimes visits to talk and keep me company. He tells me stories of what goes on around the poor section and brings his inventions to build or show me."

"He sounds very interesting," I replied, "Maybe, I shall catch him the next time I visit."

Zoé seemed taken aback by my words, "You would like to visit us again?"

"If you would allow me, I would delighted to come around when I am not busy," I explained. Zoé seems like a very nice lady but also incredibly lonely. There are times I have nothing better to do. So, why not visit and befriend the paralyzed girl.

Zoé's smile brightened, thrilled by the idea of a new person to come and visit.

"If mother accepts, I would be delighted to have your company again."

With a nod of understanding, I bid her farewell and began my journey to return home.

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