A/N: I can't get enough of these medieval/Princess AU's. I think I have an addiction xD I actually have another medieval oneshot in the works lol. But regular story-wise, one way or another will be the next to be updated. I have about a quarter of it done so far, hopefully I can finish it by this weekend.

Cat's Eye

Princess Marinette sat idly in her throne, toying with the diamond ring sitting on her left ring finger with a pensive frown. There was no use denying it, she was absolutely, utterly bored.

She was well aware that she shouldn't have been. After all, this was supposed to be the engagement ball held in her and Prince Theo's honor, but her betrothed still hasn't shown up.

She would have conversed with Lady Alya, her best friend, but she had sent word to Marinette that morning claiming to have taken ill. She apologized for her absence but wished the Princess best wishes and hopes that she would have a good time.

The young princess resisted the urge to prop an elbow on the arm of her throne and rest her cheek against her palm. It was even harder to hold back the bored yawn threatening to escape her.

"Marinette," Queen Sabine, her mother, quietly admonished next to her. "Do try to keep your chin up, this is your engagement party."

"It doesn't feel like it," Marinette hissed in a whisper, not able to hold back the annoyed tone. "What's an engagement party without one half of the couple present?"

"I'm sure Prince Theo is just running late," her mother gently reassured, smiling. "You never know when a complication of some sort will arise. Now, keep your back straight, and keep smiling. Remember, you're the happy soon-to-be bride and Queen."

Marinette nodded and murmured a 'yes, Maman' but she didn't feel very happy. To be honest, she wasn't even sure if her mood would be lifted even if Theo did show up. Her parents had encouraged the match from the very start, and so she let herself be courted by the older prince. But all throughout the courtship Theo would sometimes let his affections be off-and-on. At one moment he'd be praising her beauty, then the next he'd just be polite and treating her how a friend would.

She had to admit that she was disappointed in Theo's pursuit of her. In some of the books in her palace's library, there were tales of dashing men scaling walls to be with their beloved, and every single time they saw them they would practically speak poetry to them, treating them like the most precious treasure.

With Theo, she just felt...ordinary.

Oh, well. She supposed her books were just that: books. Romantic pursuits didn't happen like that in real life.

Just as she was about to sigh, still completely bored with the night, she heard horrified gasps from the attendees along with the loss of the orchestra's music.

The royal family sat up straighter in their chairs, determined and curious to see what had caused the disturbance.

They didn't have to wait long. For a man clad in black garments strolled toward the thrones, the guests parting to make room for him. Marinette, along with everyone else, recognized him as the famous outlaw Chat Noir, who went from kingdom to kingdom stealing riches with his loyal followers who would wear ominous black cloaks to conceal their faces.

Their leader was vastly different in his appearance. Instead of a cloak to conceal his identity, he wore a black mask that covered a good portion of his face, only leaving the tip of his nose, lower cheeks, mouth and chin exposed. As he walked closer and closer, the Princess could see his lips part to reveal a row of perfectly straight and white teeth in a deadly grin.

She wasn't sure if he had ever killed anyone, but she didn't put it past him.

Marinette's eyes wandered up to the second floor of the ballroom. Posted all around the area were black-cloaked men with bows and arrows at the ready, willing to shoot should someone make a move.

Well, it explained why the guards hadn't arrested the thief on sight.

The intruder finally stopped just short of the elevated perch of the thrones. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her parents' faces resembled stone. Strong, and unrelenting.

"Majesties," Chat Noir spoke, his voice smooth and rich. The young Princess blinked in surprise, for she had expected him to sound gruff and cruel like most outlaws she had heard before. Although he did look to be young, so that had to explain it.

"This is quite a lovely party you are hosting," he continued, his eyes calculating as he observed the King and Queen, who had yet to speak. "I wonder what the occasion-"

His last word remained on the tip of his tongue as his gaze settled on Marinette. She didn't back down from the challenge and stared right back, eyebrows furrowed in her budding anger due to his presence. Her chin was lifted and her sapphire eyes screamed defiance, letting him know that she wouldn't tremble before him like any other naive and dim-witted princess.

She could almost swear that his eyes seemed to flash with an emotion she couldn't place. All too quickly the edges of his lips curled into a predatory smirk, and for the first time Marinette felt a pang of fear stab her. She tried to read the expression on his face, but he turned away from her before she could properly observe him.

"You know, I find myself in need of a good party," the thief went on, voice as smooth and unwavering as before, although now there was a hint of mischief to it. "Stealing everything in sight is very tiresome, you know."

"No, we don't know that feeling," King Tom spoke, tone hardened as his brown eyes narrowed.

Chat Noir chuckled, the sound sending a strange chill down her spine. She was sure that she wasn't scared. So for why she shivered, she couldn't answer.

"Of course. As King, don't you steal money from the peasants everyday?" he taunted, causing Tom to emit a low growl of anger. His wife was quick to lay a hand on her husband's arm to prevent him from doing anything drastic and costly.

The villain grinned at this, delighting at how easy it was to upset the King. "As I was saying, stealing can be very tiresome for me. I need to relax every now and then, and what better place to do that than a party?"

Marinette's eyes squinted in suspicion, trying to get to the bottom of his vague words. What was he playing at, exactly? Surely he didn't want to just relax and have a good time, there had to be an ulterior motive.

"And, there's just something about parties," the thief paused, his grin curling even deeper, "that just makes you want to dance."

"You want to dance at our royal ball?" Sabine questioned, wondering she'd understood his meaning right. The entire idea was ridiculous, so Marinette didn't blame her mother for asking him that.

Chat Noir scoffed. "Well obviously I can't dance alone."

He bowed and held out a hand toward the young Princess, who could only stare at him with her eyes threatening to pop out of her head in her astonishment. He didn't-there was no way he wanted-

His head that was previously bent raised to give her a heated, devious look that induced Marinette to gulp and her face to regrettably warm.

"Care for a dance, Princess?" he asked, her title coming out in a low, seductive purr.

Marinette blanched, not at all liking how the most notorious outlaw was asking to dance with her, and how she felt little ladybugs buzzing in her stomach from how he spoke his request. She wouldn't dance with him, there was no way she would accept his wish for a dance. Especially not when he was causing her body to feel such strange reactions to him.

"Absolutely not," her father snapped, his hands tightly gripping the arms of his throne, effectively distracting Marinette from her mental struggle. "I will not let my daughter anywhere near you!"

Chat's burning, evergreen eyes, previously locked on her frozen blue ones, flickered over to the King. He flashed him a smug grin.

"I don't think you're in any position to be making demands, Your Majesty. Besides, the Princess is her own person. I believe she's mature enough to answer an invitation to dance." He turned back to her, resuming his earlier position with his hand held towards her. "So, what do you say, Your Highness? Will you dance with me?"

Her eyes once more wandered above her, to the black-cloaked archers with their arrows pointed at everyone, excluding their leader. She swallowed, knowing that if she refused him then...well, she didn't want to think of the consequences.

She squared her shoulders and hardened her gaze, not allowing him to think she was intimidated by him.

"I will dance with you, Chat Noir," she spoke boldly. Her acceptance caused him to grin wider in satisfaction, looking the very definition of the cat that got the cream.

As she descended to the dance floor, she chanced a look back to her parents, silently trying to tell them it would be alright. They looked on at her with fear and caution in their eyes, yet they nodded their ascent all the same.

When Marinette reached Chat Noir, she couldn't help but grimace when she placed her hand in his waiting one. The leather felt warm as his fingers closed over hers, which felt nice, she admitted, but it was still the hand of a thieving outlaw.

She stubbornly refused to look at him until they reached the center of the ballroom floor, looking into his eyes when he gently turned her to face him. All the guests meanwhile littered around the edges of the floor, giving the couple ample space to dance.

That stupid grin of his was still in place when he wrapped an arm around her waist, and held her other in the air, getting them into a perfect waltz stance. He paused, as though waiting for something. She raised an eyebrow in response, in turn his lips peeled back in a silent snarl and he whipped his head around to glare at the orchestra.

Oh, right. They needed music.

Her eyes shifted to the side, past her partner's head, to see the orchestra flinch in obvious terror, then shakily resume their stances to play.

In no less than three seconds, a beautiful harmony began to sound throughout the ballroom.

Chat Noir smiled, and with a tug of his hand, he pulled her into the dance. She might have been inclined to step on his toes whenever possible, but she didn't want to take the chance of having an arrow pierce an innocent person's heart. As a result she was the faultless dancer her royal upbringing created.

She didn't exactly want to lock eyes with him for the entire dance; initiating eye contact was usually a signal to start a conversation. Instead she kept her narrowed eyes trained on his nose since she didn't want to be looking down at the ground (a clear sign of submission) either.

Marinette had to admit that for an outlaw, he danced remarkably well. There wasn't a single flaw in his fluid steps, his feet were practically gliding across the floor.

"You haven't spoken to me yet, nor have you looked me in the eyes," he pointed out in an amused murmur. "Don't tell me you're afraid, Princess?"

The comment was enough to snap her eyes up to penetrate into his. Only while hers were fiery with building fury and annoyance because how dare he, she wasn't afraid of a dirty alley cat like him, his were twinkling with glee.

Huh. Now that she had a proper look, she could see how green his eyes really were. They were a beautiful color, like the shiniest, most expensive emerald gem. Never had she seen eyes so bright as his, everyone else's dulled in comparison.

Come to think of it, he was rather handsome as well. Golden hair that looked silky to the touch, a strong jawline, the portion of nose that wasn't covered by the mask looked perfect, and so did his lips. They were full, but not too much so that it would look feminine, and a light pink, and they were curved up just so sinfully right-

"See something you admire, Princess?" he quipped, shooting her a playful wink. Marinette scowled and wrenched her eyes away from him, looking off to the side of the ballroom. She wished she could be one of those guests, and not have to be in this infuriating bandit's arms.

"Was it my eyes you admired so much?" he asked, his voice light and teasing as he slowly spun them around. "I've received quite a lot of compliments about them over the years, so I can understand if you like them, too. Then again it could've been my lips. I've had plenty of women tell me they were, hm, how did they say it? Oh yes, 'simply immaculate for kissing', if I remember correctly. Or was it-"

"It was none of those things!" she hissed, not able to reign in her temper any longer. He was handsome, obviously so, but it gave him no excuse to be so conceited and cocky about it. "I don't admire you at all. I just can't wait for this song to be over so I can get away from you."

A tiny voice inside of her screamed about the terrible mistake she had probably just made. What if he got mad and ordered his men to kill everyone in the room? But the more dominant, feisty part of her ignored it and stared defiantly into his eyes.

However, he didn't get mad at all. In fact, he actually smirked, like he was internally laughing at her. She didn't know which reaction she hated more.

"I'm glad your personality is just as intriguing as your beauty," he remarked, twirling her around. Her breath hitched in alarm when he finished the move by pressing her back against his chest.

She bit her lip when she felt warm, soft lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

"Because it would've been a pawful shame if you were like those other women."

Before she could make a demand to release her and get away from her and to not say any more terrible puns, he spun her back into her original position and carried on with the dance.

Marinette ignored the tiny part of her heart that sung because finally she received a compliment worthy of the ones she's read in her books, and she especially pushed it away when it wondered what he would say in a more private setting, with her pressed up against him and he at the shell of her ear again, whispering-

No! She was an engaged woman, thoughts like those ones didn't belong!

Coincidentally his eyes strayed to her left hand that was resting on his shoulder, as per the waltzing positing required. He studied the diamond for awhile, a frown marring his features, until he turned back to her with an infuriating grin.

"That's a nice ring, Princess, but I'm afraid you have made a mistake. It is supposed to be on your right ring finger, not on your left. Imagine what people would think if they noticed." He chuckled.

She fixed him with a cool look, eyes dull and eyebrows perfectly arched.

"There is no mistake, Chat Noir. My ring is where it belongs."

"Oh," he replied, sounding careless, yet Marinette knew he was anything but for some reason. "So you're engaged, then?"

"Yes."

"To whom, if I may ask?"

"Prince Theo Barbot," she announced, for once sounding proud. She didn't know why, but she just wanted to rub her engagement in his face. A part of her must've thrilled on the possibility of upsetting him, she guessed, though she still didn't know why he would even be upset.

"Hm," he hummed in contemplation. "Let me see. Tall, tan skin, longish brown hair pulled into a ponytail, likes to dress in dark-purplish colors?"

A sliver of fear plagued the girl's heart, for he just accurately described her fiance. "Y-Yes?"

"And has he shown up tonight?" he asked idly, spinning them around again.

"N-No..." she mumbled. What was he talking about?

"You may want to check the little study outside the right exit doors," he answered ominously, face gone serious. Yet in his eyes looked to be...triumph? It was hard to tell.

Her eyebrows lowered at the mysterious answer. Why should she check in the study? It was only used for when some of the men wanted to gather to talk and drink, smoke as well. As far as she knew no one had gone in there yet, so why would Theo be there all alone, if that was what Chat was getting at?

At that moment the song chose to end. Normally this was the time the guests would politely clap for the performers and musicians, yet they didn't this time for obvious reasons.

Chat Noir and Marinette separated themselves from each other, still keeping with tradition and bowing (or in the Princess's case, curtsying) to their respective partner.

She rose from her position, her head gradually moving up to try to capture his attention again and ask for clarification about his earlier answer. She had just opened her mouth, when the ballroom was plunged into darkness.

Marinette gasped and froze, her ears easily picking up the horrified screams of the attendees. Her head wildly looked about, trying to find any source of light, but she couldn't see anything at all. Even her hand was invisible to her.

She wanted to move, to be a true Princess and help and guide her people, yet she knew if she took one blind step she would probably trip over her feet and sail to the floor. There was absolutely nothing she could do with this over-powering darkness.

Suddenly she felt her hair being gently tugged to the side, the long, black mass easily being spilled over her shoulder. Her heartbeat was erratic in panic, fueling her to try to escape. But the stranger wrapped an arm across her chest and pulled her to them, keeping her in place.

Her heart pounded against her chest. Was this it? Was this how she was going to die, being forced to dance with Chat Noir and then being murdered by one of his cohorts? Without even knowing who her killer was?

She flinched when she felt a cold material rest below her neck. It felt delicate, and thin. It was definitely not a knife, and whatever this thing was, wasn't hurting her.

Next she felt her hand being taken in another's, one whose tender grip seemed all-too-familiar.

"Till next time, my Princess," his voice purred before he touched her knuckles with something soft and warm. She realized with a start that the thief currently robbing her palace was kissing her hand, and not in fact terrorizing her like he did with everyone else.

After that he was quick to depart, and soon enough the screams and frenzied foot movement ceased. It took another few minutes to return light to the room, and when it did the damage was beginning to be assessed.

Various goods were stolen, gold, jewelry, purses, anything that had any sort of value to it.

She raised her hands to her hair, immediately feeling her one and only tiara nestled in her dark locks. At least he didn't steal that. She didn't consider herself to be a selfish person, but that tiara was her absolute favorite with its glittering red and black jewels. Hence, why it was her only one when she could have had many.

But it was when she lowered her hands did she realize her engagement ring was gone.

And strangely, she wasn't too disappointed about it.

...

The ball immediately ended after that. The guests were too afraid to stay any longer in case Chat Noir would come back.

Marinette thought that Prince Theo never came, only to realize he was closer than she thought. For when she went to the room Chat had suggested she go in, she was greeted with the most wonderful sight of her betrothed passionately kissing the Lady Mireille.

Suffice to say that now she was most surelyglad her ring had been stolen. As soon as she told the news to her parents, they immediately cast him out of the kingdom, undoubtedly breaking off the engagement as well.

It was strange, as she now sat in her bedchambers, brushing her hair in front of her vanity. She didn't feel angry, or sad about the turn of events. Why, you could even say she was glad to not be engaged to him anymore.

But she had mixed feelings about the delicate necklace around her neck, with the green cat's eye jewel as the centerpiece.

A/N: Yes, I know the ending is ambiguous, but I really don't think I will write more for this. I just intend this to stay a oneshot with an imaginative ending. Some short stories are like that, after all.