(A/N: Okay, so, chapter 3 was actually SUPPOSED to be the last one, but apparently I forgot to mark the story as "finished" when I published it. And I wasn't... really happy with the ending anyways? So this chapter happened. It feels a bit more like its own story than a continuation to me, but I still hope you all like it "^^)

It had been a few months, and Nathalie was still nowhere close to being used to her new title.

The newspapers liked fantasizing the "new queen of style" as a classic rags-to-riches type story, which she found both entertaining and annoying. In the first place, they made her normal position as an accountant sound like an undesirable job to have. They even seemed to have the misconception that she was barely paid enough to feed herself, when the truth was that she was very handsomely funded. She just didn't get enough time off to actually spend her earnings.

The worst part of the whole affair was that ever since she'd agreed to take on occasional modeling jobs, the cameras had been paying a bit too much attention to her, even outside of fashion shows. She was very aware that they were looking for some hidden story to expose, which would've been bad enough if she didn't actually have one. Thankfully they were passing off the black gloves as a "symbolic trademark" for the moment, but Nathalie still found herself intensely aware of her appearance every time she appeared in public. She felt she somewhat understood why Mr. Agreste never wanted to leave his house anymore.

Still, profits were higher than they'd been since— well, since she disappeared. And although she wouldn't admit it out loud, she actually enjoyed dressing up. Not so much for glamour or beauty, but because every time she put on another dress, it was easy to look in the mirror and imagine she was someone other than herself. With her hair down and glasses off, she was barely recognizable as Nathalie Sancoeur, let alone after the makeup crew had worked with her. She stood in front of the mirror for a long time some days, making up stories for the outfits she wore. This one was a seamstress who made clothes for the royal family, this one was a hero with a properly working Miraculous, this one was a young and excitable girl going to her first prom. She'd never fancied herself an imaginative person, but Nathalie found comfort in the act of pretending. Mayura made her feel like the most powerful version of herself, but modeling let her forget herself entirely. There was no monthly report to write, no Agreste family to serve, no scars to hide or aches to conceal.

And on this particular occasion, she wasn't even working with her employer. She checked her watch as she sorted through piles of fabrics. It was already nine minutes past the appointment time, if the girl had the nerve to show up ten minutes late…

"I'M SO SORRY I'M LATE!"

Nathalie looked up from her watch as a girl with short pigtails ran through the door, looseleaf paper flying out of a sketchbook clutched to her chest. The girl yelped and quickly started gathering up the designs while explaining her predicament.

"I was on my way five minutes early just like Mr. Agreste asked I promise but then there was a kitten crossing the road and it almost got hit so I had to stop the driver and then the driver asked me what I was doing and then this kid came by on his bike and almost crashed into the stopped car and then I realized I left my design sketchbook at home and—"

"Marinette."

The girl squeaked and bowed her head in apology. "I'm sorry!"

Nathalie sighed and suppressed herself from smiling at how much the girl reminded her of him when he was younger. With a serious expression, she shook her head gently. "Please try to refrain from showing up late in the future. Mr. Agreste has a very busy schedule."

"O-o-of course!" Marinette stammered. "But, um…" she looked around. "I don't see Mr. Agreste anywhere nearby."

"His schedule is my schedule," Nathalie replied simply, walking over and receiving the sketchbook from the younger girl. "As his personal assistant, I am required to attend every event he does, as well as taking care of all phone calls and business affairs. And lately, what little downtime I do have has been overtaken by another job."

"You mean modeling, right?" the girl exclaimed, stars in her eyes. "I've seen you in some of the papers and on T.V.! It's really amazing, you look so confident up there!"

Nathalie didn't bother correcting her false impression. "Thank you. But the point is that it takes a lot of time. Which is why we should stop talking about me and get started on your trial run."

"Oh! Of course!" Marinette grabbed the sketchbook back and pulled a single piece of paper out. "Er, so, this was the design I settled on. It's not perfect, but, uh, I really hope you like it! I already went over it with Mr. Agreste and he said it was okay…" She tapped her fingers together nervously, doing a terrible job of conveying a professional image. Nathalie would have to talk with her about that if she really wanted to work with Mr. Agreste someday, but—

She gasped as she looked down at the paper in her hand. In light, neat strokes of pencil, the girl who stood before her had drawn a beautifully elegant dress that was quite obviously modeled after her. Dark blue with a red streak up the side that faded into maroon, the design was high-collared and sleeveless, with the "trademark black gloves" drawn to the sides. Nathalie studied it long and hard, then raised an eyebrow.

"Did you…?"

Marinette fidgeted with nervous excitement. "Well, y'know, since you're helping me with this project and you'll be the one wearing it, I thought I'd design it after you!" Quieter, she added, "Mr. Agreste suggested it, actually, but I liked the idea, so…"

Nathalie looked at the design with mixed emotions including both embarrassment and pride. "I'm… very honored. Thank you, Marinette."

Marinette beamed and breathed a big sigh of relief. "You're welcome! I'm so glad you like it! I call it Mending Heart. You know, after the first dress you wore, 'cuz the style is pretty similar. And I was thinking about adding a little red heart right there? Um, but I wasn't sure if that was too much, with the red streak and all. I probably should've asked Mr. Agreste about that sooner, I know, but I got nervous."

Goodness gracious, this child really was a hopeless case. What Adrien saw in her, Nathalie would never understand. (That was a lie, and she knew it. But still.)

"I think the heart is a lovely idea. But first, do you have the measurements for the rest of the dress?"

"Yeah, they're right here!" Marinette said, flipping through the sketchbook. It was a wonder how her drawings could be so neat and yet her manner so messy. She glanced around as she handed over the pages of measurements. "By the way, do you know if Adrien is here?"

"No, he's currently at fencing practice. Were you hoping to see him?"

"What? No!" Marinette denied quickly. "I mean, yes! I mean, it'd be sice to see nee him. I mean, nice to see him! Because he's my friend! Not because I like him. I mean, I do like him, but, not like that!"

"M-hm," Nathalie responded, allowing herself a slight smirk.

"I don't!" Marinette exclaimed, her voice getting higher. "I mean, I do! But I'm not obsessed, I'm, pff, it's fine he's not here. I'm GLAD he's not here, I get tired of seeing him so much, you know? Not that I don't like seeing him! He's wonderful! But, uh, not so wonderful I want to spend every minute of the rest of my life by his side, hahaha…"

Nathalie was much better at keeping her calm than Marinette, but it was still hard for her not to smile at the girl's outbursts. She was really very entertaining.

"Well, we can talk more about Adrien while you get working. These measurements all look fine to me; the fabric is right there for you to use." She gestured to the piles of sorted fabric, which Marinette gawked at the sight of.

"Really? All this? This is really high-quality!" The young designer ran her hand over some of the expensive materials delicately. Nathalie nodded.

"Of course. Mr. Agreste only works with the best."

"He really takes pride in his work, doesn't he?" Marinette said, a soft gleam in her eye that only came from one artist understanding another.

"Yes… Yes, he does," Nathalie replied. She was silent for a moment. Then, motioning to a pre-set desk with scissors, pins, and a sewing machine, she said, "You'd best start working. I'll be observing and taking notes as you do."

Marinette took a deep breath, then nodded with a confident grin and started gathering up what she needed.

The seamstress worked for a long while in silence, only occasionally humming to herself or asking Nathalie where something was. Nathalie took notes on her clipboard of the girl's sewing speed, how many times she messed up, how many pins she used per foot of fabric, and other information Mr. Agreste had specifically asked her to jot down. However, the longer she observed, the more she found herself writing down not-so-professional notes about the girl's quirks and mannerisms.

-She sticks her tongue out when concentrating.

-She drums her fingers on the desk when she notices me looking at her.

-She tries to hide her sketches of Adrien from me. They're very good.

"Marinette."

Marinette looked up quickly.

"Please try to refrain from biting on your nails. It isn't sanitary when handling the fabric."

"O-oh! I'm so sorry!" Marinette winced and bit her lip, going back to her work. She seemed to switch from perfectly confident to barely keeping her nerves together in the blink of an eye. It wasn't Nathalie's job to reassure her, but—

"Don't worry about it. Mr. Agreste can hardly get upset over something he used to do himself." She blurted the fact out before she thought about it, and Marinette looked just as surprised as her to hear it.

"Really? Mr. Agreste… used to bite his nails? He seems so confident! He built a fashion EMPIRE!"

"Not when he was starting out, he didn't," Nathalie replied, old memories flashing in her mind. "You actually remind me quite a bit of him, before Mrs. Bourgeoisie built him into the icon he is today."

Marinette gazed down at the fabric in her hands. "Wow. That's hard to imagine." She smiled and added with a shy blush, "Did… did Adrien ever bite his nails?"

Nathalie paused. "No… he takes more after his mother."

Marinette's face fell at the tragic reminder. "Oh." She was quiet for a few moments, then took a deep breath. "Um… I'm sorry if it's not my place to ask, but you know how… that is to say… well, what I mean is…"

"You want to know what happened to her."

Marinette looked down with a more serious expression than usual. "Whenever he starts to talk about his mom, Adrien gets this weird look of being really happy and really sad at the same time. I want to help him, but I don't know how. I thought maybe if I knew a little more, I could understand how he feels."

Nathalie's first thought was, how old is this kid again? Those were some serious questions for someone her age. But still…

"I'm not in a position to tell you anything, and I don't know if asking him yourself would make the situation better or worse." Nathalie looked at the disappointed on the girl's face. "However… I do know a few unrelated activities that Adrien enjoys. It might not hurt your friendship to ask him to teach you a few of them."

Marinette's eyes widened in shock. "Really? Y-you're going to tell me Adrien?"

"It's not like I'm divulging any secret information," Nathalie said, brushing her off. "I'm just willing to talk about what he likes while you work. It seems to take your mind off your nerves, anyhow."

Marinette blinked, noticing the perfect stitching she'd achieved while talking with her observer. "I guess you're right. I never thought about being distracted as a good thing before."

Nathalie nodded to herself, keeping her notes about Marinette in front of her and tucking away a different sheet at the bottom of her clipboard. She was supposed to be multitasking and finishing the monthly report while she observed, but talking to this Marinette girl was potentially a much more productive use of time.

And besides… Nathalie Sancoeur had written enough monthly reports for a lifetime.

(I'm going to lie awake in bed tonight thinking about Marinette finding a strange mentor-like bond in Nathalie and Nathalie giving her dating advice [and possibly Marinette figuring out that Nathalie is as hopeless as she is/shot] and wow please tell I did NOT just give myself another brotp to obsess over)