Chapter 13

Marinette's swordplay was improving by the day. Every night for another month, Chat Noir would drop by her balcony and offer more teaching, to which she gladly accepted. He was impressed with her ability to learn so quickly, something he voiced quite often during their time together. Whenever she heard his praise she would smile, a curious pink would color her cheeks, and she would appreciatively thank him before getting back into position for another practice duel.

Theo didn't bother her at all. In fact, she hadn't seen him ever since that night when he tried to force himself on her and Chat saved her. Honestly, a small part of her wanted the Captain to show his face around the bakery again. She would love to put her teaching to good use.

A week after her lessons had begun, Alya excitedly told Marinette of her courtship with Nino, the Vicomte Agreste's best friend. Marinette was thrilled for her, and after a public outing with herself, Alya, Nino, and Adrien, she was able to get to know Nino better and ultimately thought he made a fine match for Alya.

Speaking of matches, after that day, Alya pulled Marinette aside and expressed the idea of her and Adrien courting. As soon as Marinette heard that, she couldn't help but burst out laughing. Sure, Adrien was handsome and kind, but someone of his rank would never lower himself to court a peasant like her. It just didn't happen.

Unfortunately, Alya wasn't so easily swayed by reason.

"You don't see the way he looks at you, Marinette!"

"We're only friends. Besides, he's a Vicomte and I'm a baker's daughter. People like him don't court people like me. I'm honestly still surprised that he wants to be my friend!"

"Who cares about society rules? It's obvious he doesn't and he's clearly in love with you."

Marinette bit her lip. Something flipped in her stomach, a feeling that usually occurred when she was with Chat.

She shook her head, dismissing the thought as quickly as it had come. "No, he doesn't. Now, can we please leave it alone?"

Alya complied with her request, but not without a frustrated sigh.

Of course, Chat Noir still had his own troubles to deal with. Prince Matheo and Theo were relentless on their attempts of capturing him, each one growing more desperate after Chat had managed to slip out of their fingertips. They tried luring him in with a tax collection just to ambush him, only for it to backfire when he used the large crowd and subsequent confusion to escape unharmed.

Matheo sent his men to check every home in Paris for the thief, but their searches proved futile. They even tried setting up classic net traps on the road and in the forest; Chat Noir later had a good laugh with Marinette about those.

But this plan, just had to be the dumbest one yet.

Marinette stared at the flyer in her hand, an eyebrow raised as she took in the large, boldened red words describing the most prestigious event that would take place on the outskirts of Paris tomorrow. There was to be a tournament—a fencing tournament—and the grand prize would be a longsword with a hilt encrusted with rubies. It was a blade commissioned by the Prince himself, the rubies having come from his (or was it King Alexandre's?) collection of jewels.

It was a prize anyone would desire. If a poor person won, they could sell the sword and make a fortune from the rubies. If a rich person won, they would proudly display it in their home where it wouldn't escape anyone's notice.

Chat Noir would likely want it, so he could trade in the rubies for a hefty number of francs, and in turn give those francs to the peasants. But other than that, Marinette didn't see him wanting it for anything else. She didn't think he was proud enough to vie for the sword only to end up displaying it.

Not that he was going to have it, either way. He may have been a jokester with her, but he was clever enough to spot a trick like this from a kilometer away. He would never go to a place where it would be crawling with guards; it would be suicide to even attempt it.

She let the flyer fall from her fingers to the dirt path below, not caring that it would be stepped on and crumpled under her fellow villagers' feet. A smile it up her face as she continued walking and ultimately came upon her destination: the local fabric shop.

With Chat Noir's help, the peasants had more money to spend, which in turn helped the shops to get back on their feet and make profits, which allowed them to order more products. Whenever Prince Matheo raised the taxes, just as quickly Chat Noir nabbed the francs and returned them. Paris was by no means in the prosperous state it was during King Alexandre's control, but it was finally starting to look up.

It had been months since Marinette had extra money to spend for fabric. When Chat had offered it to her, she insisted that it would be better to give it to someone who needs it, instead of it being wasted for fabric. Yet the stubborn cat kept insisting that everyone was starting to recover, therefore she could afford to spend a few francs for her passion.

All ensuing protests were met with firm rejection. He said he wouldn't stand for her creativity not be given a chance to shine in this darkened kingdom.

She thought it was a bit dramatic, but ultimately it was enough for her to take the francs, if only to end the argument. Besides, the children of Paris might need some new clothes soon.

"Marinette!" she heard as soon as she opened the shop's door. Her smile grew upon recognizing the voice and seeing who it belonged to come walking toward her with arms outstretched.

Marinette embraced the older woman, the affectionate gesture lasting for a few moments before both pulled back with large smiles.

"It's been so long since you've stopped by! How are you? And your parents?"

"My parents and I are well, Tikki. And I finally have some spare francs to use for fabric. I didn't want to come in without any money and torture myself," she explained with a sheepish chuckle.

"Well, I suppose I can understand your reasoning," Tikki relented with a laugh. "At one point I thought I was going to have to close down; nobody had a mind for buying fabric when they were struggling to get food on the table. But then Chat Noir comes along and suddenly things are going right. It's a nice change since Matheo took over."

She led Marinette through the shop, all the while praising the heroics of Chat Noir and how the kingdom was blessed to have him. A feeling of pride swelled in Marinette's heart, knowing that the thief deserved all those compliments and more. It was too bad he always became so shy whenever she mentioned the peasants' admiration of him.

He would just get this adorable blush on his cheeks and scratch the back of his neck, while he smiled and insisted that anyone else could do the job, and that he was only doing what he thought was right.

"-and I knew I simply had to order it. Don't you agree it's a pretty design?"

Marinette blinked, recollections of moonlit balcony visits vanishing as Tikki's question brought her back to the present. In her hands she held a bolt of cotton fabric with the strangest pattern.

"It looks like a ladybug," Marinette observed, eyeing the large, black dots spread across the red fabric that was a few shades darker than Tikki's hair.

Tikki nodded. "Polka dots are in fashion now. You'll surely stand out if you wear a dress with this!"

She leaned down with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes, ignoring the confused wide ones in front of her.

"I believe this would look quite handsome on you, Marinette. You must get this one, I insist!"

Marinette tilted her head, regarding the cloth with a newly critical eye. It was definitely a unique pattern, one that she hadn't yet seen in her village. Reaching out her hand, she gently rubbed the edge of the fabric between her fingers.

"I'll take it," she decided at last, peering up at Tikki with a beaming smile. The shopkeeper grinned in triumph, proud that Paris's best seamstress in-the-making was going to be the first to get ahold of this special fabric.

"Good choice. Shall I cut you the usual amount for one of your dresses?"

Another sign that Marinette had perhaps been coming there too often: Tikki had memorized the measurements for every possible garment that she would sew.

She shook her head. "Thank you, but I'm not planning on making a dress with this. The amount for a long-sleeve shirt will do. And I'll also need some black cotton with a light knit, for pants."

"Pants?" Tikki repeated, surprised.

Marinette didn't blame her; women seldom ever wore pants, even when riding horses. Pants were for boys…except when girls needed to wear them to gain more mobility when wielding a sword. Her lessons with Chat proved that; it was all too often that she found herself getting caught up in or tripping over her dress's hem.

She nodded, as if her request for fabric to make pants for herself was completely normal.

"Yes, Madame. How much should the total be?"

Tikki blinked, then sighed and shook her head, smiling. Far be it from her to tell Marinette what she could and could not sew and wear.

"About 20 francs, I'm sure. I eagerly await to see this outfit of yours in action, Marinette."

Marinette grinned, agreeing wholeheartedly with that statement.

…

By the time Chat arrived for their nightly lesson, her new outfit was only a little over halfway done. She worked on the pants first before proceeding to the shirt, that only had the neckline and shoulders finished. Marinette sat back from her desk, rolled her neck around to get out the cricks, then stood to grab her sword before finally meeting Chat on the balcony.

"Good evening, Princess," he greeted once she stepped outside, sweeping into a bow as per the usual. He stood back to his full height and grinned. "How was your day?"

"It was well, thank you. I went to the fabric store and picked up some supplies." She sent him a teasing smirk. "Since this loathsome, unlawful, cunning criminal practically forced the money into my hands."

He grinned. "Flattery will get you nowhere. So, are you ready for tonight's lesson?"

"As I'll ever be," she replied, already moving to get into her ready position. "En garde!"

"Woah there, little lady. Not so fast," he said, holding his hands up to halt her.

Marinette quirked an eyebrow, confused on why he didn't wish to start yet. Nonetheless, she relaxed from her position and gave him a chance to explain.

"I have a different spot in mind for tonight. Somewhere more open and we can practice freely without having to worry about being caught."

"And where, pray tell, would this place be, Sir Thief?" She sent him a coy smile and placed the tip of her sword on the floor, then placed her palms on the hilt and rested her chin there.

Chat smirked. In a bold move, he stepped closer and dug his own sword into the ground. Marinette's breath caught in her throat when he mimicked her pose, then leaned his head forward so that their noses were nearly touching.

Aside from the moments when he stood behind her to show her how to wield a sword, he was never so near to her before. And especially not while smiling so devilishly.

If he was as affected by their proximity as she was, he gave no indication of it.

"You'll see when I take you there," he purred, his eyes glinting with all sorts of wicked promises.

Marinette gulped, feeling a sort of 'drop' in her stomach, but not from fear or apprehension. Unable to take the heat any longer—which was terrible, considering she lived in a bakery all her life—she reeled back and attempted her best totally-not-flustered laugh.

"Any reason why it's a secret?" she quipped, trying to keep up the pretense of not being affected by his flirtatious behavior. Because she wasn't. Not at all. She didn't lose her head over handsome men. Never.

"Because I'm trying to keep it a surprise," he explained with a grin. "But if you keep questioning me, then you'll never find out where it is."

Marinette pursed her lips, pretending to think it over. In her mind, she had already accepted his request when he first asked it. She just wanted to get as much information out of him as possible, but he was proving to be quite stubborn.

"Alright," she decided, overdramatically sighing as though she were resigning herself to some tedious task. "I suppose we can continue my lesson there."

When he smiled, his eyes lighting up with the delight that she trusted him, she knew that she made the right decision.