"Lady Dupain-Cheng!" Oh shit. Not him again. She turned around and her face almost touched his, their noses barely apart. Marinette was so startled she almost fell face first from the second-floor balcony.

"Your Highness!" she squealed and curtseyed clumsily, immediately went into innocent-cute-girl mode. Goddammit.

"What does a lady like you do out here? Aren't you cold?" he took his outer coat off and draped it over her shoulders. She shivered when his hands accidentally brushed the bare skin on her neck somehow.

He had the decency to realize this, at least. "S-Sorry, Lady Dupain-Cheng!" he mumbled apologetically like a little kid and that made her laugh despite herself. Dammit.

"Marinette," she said softly, totally against her better judgement. He looked up, a bit confused, but also smiling. "Call me Marinette,"

"Pardon me?" Oh, this boy is too cute for her sake.

"M-Marinette. You can call me Marinette." Aaand now he knows her name. Great. Why the fuck wouldn't she blurt out her assassin identity- Coccinelle- too!?

That sounds like a good idea… Shut up, brain! You're not helping!

"Marinette," The Prince mused, letting her name roll on his tongue for a few moments. She giggled like a freaking shy maiden, which she is not, and slapped herself mentally. What the actual fuck, Dupain-Cheng? Get ahold of yourself!

"So," he started awkwardly, all of his persuasiveness or seductiveness when they danced were gone, "Why are you out here? As far as I was informed, the party inside is actually for you. We can't have the étoile away from where the fun is, now, can we?" Why did he have to be so freaking adorable?

"Well, it was really stuffing in there," Miraculously, she said without stuttering. "I just want to get some fresh air."

"I understand," he nodded empathically. He had had his fair share of parties filled to the brim with drunken middle aged people, most of them even bold enough to try to hit on him. Escaping to the balcony was still pretty tame comparing to the things he had done to get out of those parties as fast as possible. "But, well, you are my father's Advisor now. You'd have to get used to parties like this eventually,"

"Ugh, no," she groaned, hands absentmindedly wiping her face. "If I have to attend every single party with these shoes I am going to die. Not to mention this godforsaken dress!"

He laughed good heartedly, his emerald green eyes glinted in the moonlight. Her heart just skipped a beat, she thought. God, look at that damn Adonis face, that tousled spun gold hair, that clear laughter that rang through the air like a Greek chorus…

Oh Jesus. She was so fucked.

"Well then, Marinette," he chuckled at her name. What's so funny about it? "Why don't we run away for a while? Just over to that garden, hmm? Come on, I'll show you my favourite spot."

That really should've triggered a red alarm in her mind. The things he could've done to her when she was alone with him in a vacant garden! But nope. It's been merely a few hours since she met him and he's already got her attention.

"S-Sure," she gave in easily, hand already reaching for his, "But only half an hour. I still need to get back, Your Highness,"

"Don't call me that," he made a face and turned away, inspecting the balcony railing for some reason, "You know my name, don't you?"

Of fucking course. Who doesn't?

"Adrien," she said carefully when he dangled his legs outside. The drop was about 4 meters and heck, this Prince needed to be careful or he's going to break his neck, "What are you doing?"

"Having fun, what else?" With those words he leaped off the balcony, effectively giving the Marquise a heart attack. She let out a soundless scream, too shocked to say anything.

Right when Marinette was about to call the guards to try and retrieve their future ruler's bloody remains, his voice called from below.

"Come on, Princess," he whistled, "You can't seriously think that a drop like that would be enough to kill me? Please, you wound me," She looked down and there he was, clutching his chest with his eyes closed shut and fake hurt on his face.

So overdramatic. And also…

"Princess?" she squeaked indignantly. What the hell?

"Of course. Any lady such as yourself deserves nothing less," Still, that is not a valid excuse.

Despite all the angry act she's pulling, Marinette could feel her cheeks started to get hot, tinted pink. Goddammit, no.

"Oh, please, Princess," She could hear his smirk from up here, "Come down. I promise I'll catch you in my arms! I'll be gentle, don't worry,"

Huh. As if she needed his help.

"No need to go such length to please me, my prince," she smiled as his face turned red, "I can handle this on my own. Although a little help would be nice,"

"Of course, mon chéri, anything for you," he braced himself, ready to catch her full weight and maybe spin her around like they always do in those fairy tales. But instead of a beautiful woman in red, all he got was…

"Shoes…?" his confusion was pretty vocal, and again, he could hear her lovely laughter echoed all around this vacant place. "What are-"

But before he could say anything else, a flash of red and swishy fabric blinded him, and there she was, landed in a perfect position, her breathing even and unphased. God damn.

"Thanks for catching my shoes," she smirked and took back the pair of heels dangled in his hands. His jaw had hit the floor at some point, but he didn't even know it until she tapped his chin and closed it gently, a hint of amusement in her eyes. Hell, isn't this woman something else.

Meanwhile, Marinette gained a head start on him just to hide her flustered face and reflect on her actions. Great, she fucked up big time. He knew what she was capable of now! Her role was supposed to be a shy and quiet girl, mixed with weak and a little of insecurity. And her Coccinelle was showing just then, when it wasn't supposed to surface until the assassination takes place! What the fuck, Marinette?

"H-Hey!" the Prince finally broke out of the shock and ran after her, "Where did you learn how to do that?"

Of course, she decided to ignore him. What else could she do without risking revealing herself even more?

She never should've agreed to go with him, shouldn't she?

Well, fuck.

To be fair, catching a conversation with a charming man whose job was to talk to people was pretty easy and sometimes irresistible.

It's not like she enjoyed his company or anything…

Ugh, who was she trying to lie to? It was, arguably, one of the best time of her life.

And all they did was walking under the gentle, illuminating moonlight, watching the colorful flowers in black and white, occasionally stole a glance at eachother, and talk a little bit. Nothing too heavy, nothing too stupid. Just like that, they became closer. And God helps her, she had been dying for a friend lately. Her only real friend, Alya, or Volpina, had been missing in action for the past two months after happily married to Coquille de Jade, or Nino Lahiffe, a famous musician with extreme axe skills. Coccinelle might feel lonely, but she was proud of her friends too.

"Uh, so…" Marinette startled when the man next to her tried to start a conversation. "I, um, I haven't known much about you, except for the facts that you're Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a Marquise, you're my father's Advisor, you hate parties and uncomfortable shoes, and you can kick my ass anytime you feel like it. Did I left anything out?" he grinned. Had he really paid that much attention to her?

"So… How old are you?" he asked sheepishly. She blinked at him in surprise at his attempt and suddenly threw her head back, laughing good heartedly, leaving a flustered and embarrassed Adrien next to her, wondering what the heck is going on.

"D-Did I say something wrong?" he rubbed the back of his neck, abashed, his face burning and his gaze averted when they met her eyes.

"No no!" she waved her hands frantically, trying to keep a straight face but failing, too. "It's nothing wrong, it's just… I didn't expect your first question to be that."

"Q-Question? I was just trying to make conversation…" he mumbled to himself and God, he was adorable. "Well, to be frank, I haven't met anyone like you before. I haven't made any friends. It's all sort of… new, to me." she halted to a stop when she heard those words. The way he was looking at her… it couldn't be fake, could it?

"Then, what about Mademoiselle Bourgeois?" she asked self-consciously, since she was pretty sure their friendship wasn't just a fudge.

"Well, no one, except for Chloe, but she lives in the same castle as I do; it's hard not to be friends." Oh, Marinette had heard all about Chloe Bourgeois, alright. The cocky, arrogant Princess of France, who cares about no one rather than herself and Adrien Agreste, who was rumoured to be her fiance. The thought alone made Marinette want to gag.

"But hey," She came back to her senses and looked at him, her heart positively skipped a beat. "Even if it's new, I'd like to try it with you, Marinette," The way he said her name. God.

"Your Highness," a guard mumbled hesitantly. Adrien looked at him, the warm, welcoming smile on his face immediately vaporized, leaving a stern and stoic man behind. The guard swallowed, "May I suggest you take Lady Dupain-Cheng back? It is past midnight already, Sir," he suggested, trying his best to keep eye contact with the Prince of France. Adrien took out his pocket watch and heck, that thing is extravagant. Gold with extremely elaborate decorations; the cover alone would be enough to feed an entire village for a week! It's been a long time since she had seen something this expensive; her family likes to sponsor Miraculouse's projects or donate them to poor people all around Brittany.

"Huh, you're right," he hummed, stopping her train of thoughts. "My apologies, Lady Dupain-Cheng," he turned to her and winked. Ohhh.

"It's not a problem, Your Highness," she curtseyed for no reason at all, and he had to hold back a smile. It felt good, like they're sharing a secret of some sort, even though it's only to remain professional in front of everyone else. Professionalism is a requirement for her job; she could not date anyone in the Court, ever. And the Prince himself is way out of her league.

But it's not like she wanted to date him, right?

Right…

"May I take you back inside the Château, my Lady?" he offered her his hand, and she took it, walking next to him. Marinette had, thankfully, remembered to grab her shoes hastily when the guard ushered them towards the palace, so at least she could still keep her composure. Some of it.

And seeing as Agreste is barely holding back his howling laughter, she failed.

They talked for a little while about nothing in particular, like whether the Baroness of Champagne had the worst hairstyle today or it's actually Lady Sabrina of Picardy. Personally, Marinette thought that Lady Sabrina's short and modern haircut was the best one and it fits her ballgown, but apparently, Adrien disagreed. They bickered all the way to her chamber, and only stopped when Tikki opened the door and greeted her mistress. The girl kept her head down respectfully, but subtly gave Marinette a raised eyebrow.

"So," the Prince said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, "Um, I guess we're here,"

Tikki looked at her like, this is the Prince Charming people were talking about? She gave her maiden an eyeroll, like, I know, right?

"I-I had a great time," he beamed, his sudden smile should be enough to light all the candles in the castle for the next two years or so. Unfortunately, the Marquise found it cute.

"Me too," she admitted despite herself. Part of her mission could only be accomplished by getting acquainted with the Prince, right? Making powerful and influential friends never hurt. "Thank you for giving me a tour of the garden, Your Highness,"

"I did?" Adrien looked confused, but immediately got back his confidence and his cold façade when she glanced at the guards around them, eavesdropping for the King but pretending not to notice anything. "Yes, yes, of course, Lady Dupain-Cheng. It was my pleasure,"

"Then, I wish you a good night, My Prince," she curtseyed yet again, her gaze locked down to the floor in fear of having to look into his warm green eyes and getting distracted by said eyes. She couldn't manage to lose her focus and fall in whimsy love; she was here to infiltrate the Court of Gabriel and to kill them both, the King and his Heir. And her plan would fail inevitably if she loves the man in front of her here.

"I wish you a good night too, my Lady. The sweetest of dreams for you," he raised her hand up to his lips and stared deep into her eyes. She couldn't escape his look of adoration, even if the possibility that it's fake is exceptionally high. But all of her doubts and suspicions took a flying leap off the nearest window when he kissed her hand.

It was a simple kiss; light and innocent, his lips barely ghosting on her skin. But for someone who had been starved of physical affections for so long like her, it was enough to set her blood on fire.

It didn't help that he was so fucking handsome, either.

"Then, I'll be on my way, Marinette," he retreated way too early for her liking, but she shook herself awake and bid him goodbye. She's thinking too much about him, she reading into it too much. He's only trying to be polite, that's all. It's not like he already considered her a friend or something else that she wasn't supposed to be thinking about…

Wait, did he just call her Marinette?

Agh, no!

"Marinette, would you like some hot chocolate before bed?" Tikki's clear voice echoed from outside her bedchamber. The girl had been better in less than half a day; she was smiling, now, and occasionally humming to herself while preparing for her new mistress to go to bed.

"Yes, please, Tikki," she agreed, taking the burning cup of cocoa into her hands and got lost in her thoughts again. What's with the Prince's sudden interest in her, the King turned out to be not as bad as she had anticipated, everyone's kiss-up attitude… It was a lot to take in for her day one. And her family back in Brittany, too. She missed them, even though she had been in long distance missions before. But what got her though those assignments were the belief that she would be back, that she would get to hold her father again, would get to banter with her maids at home, her friends in Miraculouse. But now, when all of her loved ones had said their farewells to her before she left… It was a bit hard to get through.

"Marinette," Tikki said again, making the Marquise glanced at her, "Is there something bothering you? If there is, you can talk to me- I mean, if you want to, of course," she added hastily, as if she had just remembered that the dark haired woman in front of her was, in fact, her mistress.

"It's fine," Marinette smiled and gave Tikki her empty cup, "I'm fine, really. But we can talk if you don't mind…"

"Oh, of course not!" the girl squealed and sat next to her on the bed, "I'd love to hear about it. Though I suspected your trouble had something to do with the Prince?" Goddammit. Was she that obvious?

Tikki giggled and she groaned, hiding her face in a pillow. Why, why is this so awkward? She wanted to tell her new friend everything, if only for the sake of getting rid of this burden, but at the same time, she kept opening her mouth but nothing came out. It's like words had abandoned her, and it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

"Ah, just forget it," she buried herself under the giant comforters, and Tikki took her cue, retreated while trying to muffle her laughter. Marinette appreciated the effort, but it didn't help her one bit.

"Goodnight, milady," the maid slipped but she paid it no mind, still too lost with her thoughts. Why did that simple sentence reminded her of him again? And the way he sounds, the way he looked at her, his deep green eyes, his smile, the way his lips felt on her skin…

Marinette slapped the pillow on her face and groaned in frustration. This is not working! None of the things that she could do while being trapped in her room would take her mind away from him, either…

Which only meant that she needed a breather, right?

The sly Marquise rose on her bed slowly when the room outside had gone quiet and she was sure that Tikki had gone to bed. The pack of clothes at the bottom of her chest is, thankfully, still there. She threw on her gear as fast as she could, fastening straps and flung a cloak across her back, picking up a knife and hid it under her robes, her trusty bow swung over her shoulder. Grabbing a thin but strong hook with her, she put on the familiar red dotted mask and opened the window as silently as she could. The breeze caressed her face and mon dieu, it was nostalgic. It had been less than three days ago but she missed being free already!

Now, let's see if her skills are still intact after that intense scrubbing in the bathtub…

Marinette swung the hook to the nearest rooftop and pulled. It was, miraculously, strong enough to hold her weight, so she started climbing. Just a few more seconds and she'll be on her way…

If they're observant enough, keen eyes could see a woman that night, standing tall and unfazed on a rooftop, her cloak whipping in the air, windswept dark blue hair, the edges of her feature illuminated gently by the moonlight. It was a sight to behold. But too soon, she leaped off her hiding spot and into the darkness, disappearing without a trace.

Just like a dream.