A/N: Hey look! Novel finally finished part two. XD

"I hope you're happy," Plagg snarked.

Nino snorted. "Don't let him fool you," he said with a grin. "He enjoyed his time with the princess just fine. A little too well, if you ask me."

Plagg growled at him.

But Adrien wasn't really paying attention. His mind was fully on a woman with dark curls and creamy skin that was complimented by a vivid red dress. And blue eyes.

Blue eyes he never got to see.

He sighed. Just as well. He was to meet the princess today. He needed to not be focused on a woman that he would never see again. A woman who was engaged to be married herself. A woman he needed to forget.

He wished he could say he would with a little time, but he had a feeling that it would be a vain effort. He would not be able to part with her letters or drawings. He couldn't not have something to remember her by. Maybe time would dull the ache of her absence, but he couldn't see forgetting her happening.

A knock on the door signaled the time for Adrien to meet his father in his office, where there would be an official introduction to his new wife and her family. Reluctantly, he headed to the door. Before he could exit his room, Nino grabbed his shoulder, giving him an apologetic smile. Plagg grabbed his other shoulder. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

From Plagg, that meant a lot. "Thanks," Adrien said. "I still owe you two for last night."

"You do," Plagg agreed. "Later. For now, go meet your new wife and tell us how wonderful she is."

Adrien gave them a thankful smile before heading out the door to greet Nathalie.

"Your father is waiting for you in his office."

Adrien nodded. "Thank you, Nathalie."

She nodded before marching off.

"Well," Adrien said, straightening his coat. "Here we go."

He marched down to his father's office, hands clenched so they wouldn't shake. He was nervous, for he was to meet his new wife shortly. He was a prince; he'd been raised for this, yet he feared what this woman could be like. What if Adrien didn't like her? What if she was like Chloe or Lila or any of the other women who clung to him for his looks and status?

He shook his head clear. Whoever she was, she would be his wife, and he would treat her well.

He gave the door to his father's office a knock before he entered the room, only to find it empty sans his father at the desk. Adrien stood by his father's right shoulder, ready to greet the woman who was to be his bride.

Moments later, the royal family of Miraculous walked in. Adrien's gaze immediately landed on the young princess, and his eyes widened. She was beautiful, to be sure. Black curls cascaded over her milky white shoulders. The red of her dress was striking, and it reminded him far too much of another woman he'd met.

"King Gabriel," the King of Miraculous, a large man, greeted with a bow. "Prince Adrien."

"King Tom," his father returned. "Queen Sabine, Princess Marinette."

The women curtsied.

"Adrien," his father suggested. "Why don't you take the princess on a tour of the gardens."

It wasn't a suggestion; it was a demand. "Of course, father." He walked over to the princess and offered his elbow for her to take. "Shall we?"

She looked at him, that disappointed tilt of her lips replaced by a look of surprise. Slowly, she placed her arms around his elbow. "We shall."

He was handsome, Marinette would give him that. But he was quiet. That couldn't be his personality; Tikki assured her that last night, the prince couldn't stop talking to her.

She tried to convince herself the silence gave her more time to process the events of last night and attempt to hide her heartbreak. However, she knew it was hardly fair to Adrien that she wasn't trying to be more friendly. He was to be her husband, and she would submit like the wife she had been raised to become.

Suddenly, a rose appeared before her. It startled her a moment, causing her to look up at the man who held in in front of her.

"I know that this is sudden," he began. "For both of us. But the last thing I wish is for us to be on poor terms. Forgive me for not being talkative this morning. I suppose I'm lost for words. I haven't the faintest idea what to say to a woman who is to become my wife before the week is over."

She looked at the peace offering: a red rose that was rich in color. Then she looked back up to Prince Adrien, taking in his golden locks and handsome face and vivid green eyes that she could see herself getting lost in. This was to be her husband, and he was clearly extending a peace offering here and now with a rose and a reassuring smile.

Slowly, she took the rose from him, then let a small smile loose. "How about we start with a hello, then you could tell me… what's your favorite hobby?"

The wedding was made to be a much bigger event than it should have been. People in the streets celebrated the union between the kingdoms, knowing it would bring security and trade, and therefore, prosperity. However, according to Plagg, the townspeople were just pleased to have an excuse to throw a festival.

At least it brought happiness and cheer. Adrien wouldn't deny his kingdom that.

After the ceremony at the church and the large, joyous banquet held in honor of the newlyweds and united kingdoms, Adrien wanted nothing more than to go to bed for the night. However, the woman walking at his side reminded him that there was more than sleep to a wedding night.

Adrien glanced at his bride, one who still dawned her wedding gown and veil. They had been shooed up to his room by the half-drunk crowd in the banquet hall that was sure to be sent away soon enough. And even though they had traversed the halls together, they hadn't spoken a word to each other. Marinette had yet to look his direction, or even raise her gaze from the floor.

He led her into his room, opening the door for them. She let go of his elbow and stepped inside, still never looking him in the eye. He knew why. No matter how well they had gotten along, the fact was they still only knew each other for barely a week. He guessed she wasn't any more comfortable than he was with the prospect of what the night was supposed to entail.

"Marinette," He said, shutting the door behind him. "I have a proposition."

Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him. Even in the low lighting, he could tell those blue eyes of hers held fear. Though they'd only known each other a short time, he already knew he hated that look on her. She was charming and sweet; innocent and child-like. Roses amused her more than jewelry did. And she held herself with pride and competence, but never once was she cruel.

The best part was he didn't think it was an act. He'd watched her from a distance many a time, and never once was she any different than when he was by her side. This was a woman he could learn to love, but for right now, his love for her would be shown as respect for her comfort. His wife she may be, she clearly wasn't comfortable with being here with him.

He couldn't have that.

"Yes?" she asked.

He sighed. "I don't think… either of us are ready for tonight."

He saw the beginnings of a blush on her cheeks and chest as she turned away from him.

"My proposition is that we consummate our marriage at a later date."

After a moment, Marinette turned back to him. "But won't your kingdom be expecting an heir as soon as possible?"

Adrien sucked in a breath. "That is true," he said. "But I'm sure they won't mind waiting another one or two months before then."

She looked surprised to say the least. "I…" she swallowed. "I would appreciate it more than you know…"

His smile faded. "What is it?"

She bit her lip. "In my kingdom," she said. "There is a tradition where someone is sent to peek into the bedrooms after a wedding night and report to the court. It's… it's supposed to signal if the wife was submissive or not. If she was in her husband's bed, then the court is assured she is a good wife. If the husband is in the wife's, then she forced her husband to chase her, and it's not seen as a good sign."

"And you're worried that tradition will extend here," he finished.

She nodded, bowing her head and gaze locking on the floor once again.

He sighed. "Then," he began. "How about this?" He reached for her hands to hold in his. This got her to look back up at him. "We both share my bed tonight," he said. "I cannot let disgrace come to your head. But we still do not have to consummate our union tonight. We can wait."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "You're certain?" she asked.

He gave her a smile he hoped was gentle. "I think it would be for the better."

"I'm certainly not going to argue with you," she said, her posture already less rigid. "But… I do need one more thing."

"And that is?"

Her blush returned full force. "Um… I'll need…help… out of my wedding dress."

Marinette didn't want to get out of bed. Surprisingly.

Yesterday had been her wedding, and she had mentally prepared herself the previous week for the wedding night. But after her husband fully assured her that he'd rather wait, the tears she had held back all day wouldn't stay in. He'd been so gentle with her last night, holding her caringly as she cried herself to sleep.

She knew he was a good man. He was a bit reserved, but over the week she'd known him, he'd proven himself to be considerate and gentle. His smile was sweet, and he always regarded her with respect. Maybe that was what had made it easier to accept that she would have to give herself to him on her wedding night.

Yet, when it came down to it, she'd been worried, even though she did everything she could to be strong.

He'd helped her escape the confines of her wedding dress, but he never made any move to cause her to think he stepped back from his promise. He allowed her to escape to her room, where she found a night gown to wear. Only then did she return to his room to see that he, too, had changed out of his wedding ensemble and into a pair of night clothes.

Actually, only a pair of night pants. He was bare chested, which only caused her face to heat.

Yet, even in that state, he never stopped reassuring her, and she didn't feel uncomfortable with him. Even as she cried that night, still flabbergasted yet thankful that he did not want to claim his marital rights immediately, he was patient and kind with her.

She was sure he would be a good husband to her. As a princess, she was extraordinarily lucky in that respect. She supposed she really was a Ladybug.

Her eyes were heavy to open, but when she did, she found her husband was laying awake on his back, clearly lost in his thoughts as he stared up to the ceiling. Tentatively, she reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder.

Immediately, he turned to her and gave her a smile. "Good morning," he began quietly.

"Good morning," she returned, her voice hoarse from the tearful night. "Did… did you sleep well?"

"I did," he assured, rolling over on his side. "Are you feeling better?"

She nodded, still feeling a bit embarrassed for crying so much last night. "I am, thank you."

He took hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles. "I'm glad."

She gave his hand a squeeze. "And thank you," she said. "Thank you for everything."

His smile brightened. "You're welcome."

"I mean it," she said, squeezing his hand tighter. "Thank you."

He gave her hands a squeeze back, and as she looked into his eyes, she felt safe here with him. "You're very welcome, Marinette."

Even before he'd met Marinette, Adrien knew he would need to pursue her faithfully and be the best husband he could to her. Though he had once worried it might be a struggle, Adrien found himself more than willing to go out of his way to woo his lovely wife. Her smile was a thing of beauty, her eyes always taking on mirthful gleam. Her laugh was quiet and reserved, with him, but he'd once heard her unabashedly laugh with her lady-in-waiting, and he wanted to make her laugh like that.

One day, that would happen. He was sure of it. But that wouldn't happen unless he found her.

Instead, he found Plagg leaning idlily a wall.

"Don't you have work to do?" Adrien challenged.

"It's amazing how much more I can get done in a day when I don't have letters to go fetch," he said, standing upright. "Is that for the princess?"

Adrien glanced at the rose between his fingers. "Yes," he said.

Plagg nodded. "It's good to see you wooing her."

"She is my wife. I think it should be my duty."

"Not all men would think that," Plagg said.

"I'm not all men."

"That is true," Plagg admitted. "But, surely you find her worth wooing in the first place."

Adrien pursed his lips. "True," he admitted. "I know I don't always have the best of luck, but I was lucky enough to be blessed with a decent woman to be married to. Particularly since it was arranged."

"Very lucky," Plagg said. "I just saw her in the sunroom, if you wanted to know. Her and her lady-in-waiting are there."

She wasn't alone, then. Shame.

"I'm sure I could convince Nino to distract said lady, if you want," Plagg said.

Adrien quirked a brow. "You're being oddly helpful."

Plagg smirked. "Not because you deserve it, that's for sure. You still owe me. But Nino and Lady Alya did strike it off quite well at the masquerade."

"Did they, now?" Adrien asked, surprised. "Why wasn't I told?"

"Nino didn't think it was important with all the other events and issues happening. You were heartbroken over your Ladybug as well as engaged to marry a woman within a week of meeting her. A fast time for a marriage, might I say, but it was done in good timing. One of the kingdoms to the north threatened Kingdom Miraculous right before the wedding, only to retract it once the union took place. Together, we are larger than either one of those kingdoms."

"Not by much," Adrien said. "But with those two kingdoms being in a scrimmage with each other, neither one can afford to get into battles that would cause them to use resources. Whether or not we'd win isn't the point, but we are strong enough to cause them some serious trouble."

Plagg nodded. "Hopefully, it discourages either of those kingdoms from coming after us. The last thing we need is to get into a war we have no stakes in."

Adrien nodded. "Let's keep our fingers crossed, shall we?"

"At this point, it's all we can do. Now, go woo your princess."

With a smile, Adrien patted Plagg's shoulder. "Get back to work."

"I'm resting," Plagg retorted. "One of the many things you owe me."

"I'm sure you can find better things to spend that favor on than a nap, Plagg," he sassed back.

Plagg chuckled. "True," he said, standing from the wall and marching off. "Very true."

"I'm proud of you," Alya commented, snapping Marinette from her reverie.

"Pardon?"

"You haven't read any of Chat's letters since you got married."

Marinette sighed, her heart hurting at the mere mention of the letters. She hadn't read them even though she wanted to. She was trying to distance herself as much as she could from Chat so she could give everything she could to her husband.

Alya must have sensed her internal struggle. "Hey," Alya said, setting aside her needlework. "You should draw something for him."

"Who?"

"Your husband," Alya said. "He doesn't know you draw yet, does he? You should surprise him with something."

Marinette sighed. "I don't know, Alya."

"Why not?" she challenged. "It would be good for you to draw something. You haven't touched a pencil since you learned you were engaged."

Alya was right; it had been hard to bring herself to draw again since half of the joy of drawing had been from being able to give it to Chat.

Before Marinette could give Alya an answer, her friend had already rung the bell. "And when someone comes up to answer, we'll get you some drawing supplies. I have no doubt you'll thank me later."

It wasn't long before Marinette had some paper and charcoal before her. Now, the largest question was what to draw in the first place.

She stared at the paper for a while before a rose appeared before her. Startled, Marinette spun around to see Adrien standing behind her. "Good afternoon," he greeted with a smile. "I came to give you a small gift that made me think of you."

She looked back to the rose, her heart skipping a beat. "For me?"

"Who else?" he teased. "Of course, for you, my dear."

My dear? she thought, taking the rose from him. He'd yet to call her any endearment, so this one felt sweetly genuine. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

He smiled. "I was going to ask if you would take a walk with me," he began. "But I didn't know you were busy."

"I'm not," Marinette said, happily setting aside the paper. Her muses simply weren't coming, and she was pleased with any distraction at this point. "I would love to go for a walk with you."

The happiness in his expression was enough to warm her heart and encourage her to do anything she could to see it again. "Then, my dear, shall we?"

She wrapped her arms over his extended elbow. "We shall."

The knock on the door startled Adrien. He'd been so focused he hadn't noticed Nino enter his office. "How long have you been there?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and begging his heart to slow down.

"Not long," Nino said, stepping fully into the office and shutting the door behind him. "I was looking everywhere for you, buddy."

"Sorry," Adrien said. "I've been preoccupied."

Nino gave a nod. "With?"

"Poetry."

Nino's eyes widened. "You haven't written since Ladybug."

"That was only a few weeks ago."

"Six," Nino corrected. "You used to write daily."

Six? Had it really been that long since he'd written his last letter to Ladybug? That would mean that it had been around four weeks since he'd seen her and three since he married Marinette. Where had the time gone? It still felt like only yesterday he was blessed enough to have the opportunity to dance with her.

"No matter how irritating you get with your obnoxiously romantic writings," Nino teased, "It's good to see you writing again."

Adrien gave a half smile. "I'm really struggling with this poem, though. Verses for Ladybug used to come so easily. It's hard to write something for Marinette."

"I don't get how, but what do I know?" Nino said with a shrug. "Can't you write things like you did for Ladybug."

"No, I have to temper any feelings, for one," Adrien began. "Our relationship is still new, and I don't want to startle her with profound love confessions that wouldn't be completely true in the first place. We haven't consummated our marriage yet; you know." Adrien felt a light blush dust his cheeks. He'd only told Nino after his friend had given him a large amount of ribbing the week after his marriage. "And our relationship is blooming really well right now. I have to be careful."

"So write about that," Nino said as though it was obvious. "About how you want a relationship with her."

Adrien stared at the page, Nino's words rolling through his mind. A blooming relationship, like the roses she liked so well. "That's not a bad idea," Adrien said, pulling out a clean sheet of paper.

Nino snorted in amusement. "Glad I could help. I'm not going to be able to convince you to shoot some arrows now, am I?"

"No."

"I figured as much."

He was a beautiful poet; she couldn't deny it. His writing was very touching and earnest, but all she could think of was how it wasn't Chat.

"I'm a horrible person," she muttered.

"No, you're not," Tikki chastised from where she stood at Marinette's dresser, putting away the clean laundry.

Marinette turned around in her seat to look at Tikki. "You don't even know what I'm thinking about."

"I don't have to; you're not a horrible person."

Marinette sighed, turning back to the poem on her desk. "But Adrien wrote me a poem—"

"He's a poet?"

"And a good one," she said. "But all I can think of is Chat."

Tikki gave her a pitying look before walking up to Marinette and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she said. "It must be hard, but you have to admit that Adrien has been nothing but a good husband to you."

"I know," Marinette said, reaching up to hold Tikki's arms in place. "Which is why I feel so horrible comparing his work to Chat's."

"I'm sure that soon enough, Adrien's poetry will be all you think of," Tikki said.

"If he writes me any more."

"Tell him you loved it. I'm sure you can subtly encourage him to continue writing more things for you. I know!" Tikki said, pulling back from her embrace. "What if you drew him a little something?"

Marinette chuckled. "You and Alya both suggested that. But the last time I tried, I couldn't think of anything to draw."

"That's because you always used to draw when you were inspired by Chat's work. What if you drew something based on what Adrien wrote you?"

Marinette looked at the poem with newfound interest. "Do you think so?"

"I think anything to put a smile back on your face when you have a pencil in your hand would be a good thing."

Marinette stared at the poem, images of roses coming to mind. "I… I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try."

Adrien had to admit, waking up with Marinette at his side was growing to become one of his favorite things. How he found such a simple thing so enjoyable, he didn't know. But he was now very used to the comfort of having her to hold at night and having her holding him in return.

He gave into the urge of kissing her temple and was rewarded by a sleepy smile.

He was a very lucky man, indeed, that he was granted such a luxury as this.

Adrien was reluctant to move from his spot, knowing he would wake her if he did. Therefore, he spent time thinking of a new poem for her. In response to the first poem he gave to her, she responded with a drawing of roses. For a moment, he had felt as though he was conversing with Ladybug all over again, and that had driven him to write more for her.

While he tried his best to not compare her to Ladybug, he failed more often than he cared to admit. He even started looking through Ladybug's drawings again with a hope that maybe something would spark an idea for a poem for his wife. Nothing had caught his interest as of yet, but he wasn't finished. He still held out a hope that he'd find something.

After all, he relished any time Marinette rewarded him with a smile. He wanted to see how large and uninhibited it could be.

It had been five weeks since the wedding, and Marinette could say that while she had yet to fall fully in love with her husband, she would admit she was on her way to. It was hard to not fall for him a little when he was such a gentleman.

And if Marinette were being honest, the fact he wrote her poetry helped a little.

It felt as though she was with Chat again, him sending her romantic poetry. This poetry was far tamer, expressing only budding feelings, yet it held a genuineness that touched her in a similar way that Chat Noir's poetry did. It also helped spark her desire to draw more often. So, when Adrien presented her with yet another poem a few days ago, she spent her time drawing a scene for him. One that he depicted in his work.

She knocked on the door to his office, only for the door to crack open. "Adrien?" she called out. Except he didn't answer.

Carefully, she pushed open the door, only to find the office was empty.

She frowned. She'd wanted to give this to him in person, but she'd already searched everywhere and still couldn't find him. She supposed she could just leave it on his desk for him to find when he returned. Surely, he would find it a nice surprise.

She walked into the room to place the drawing on the desk, only to catch sight of another image. It caused her to pause, as she stared at the upside-down drawing: the image of two people dancing.

It was impossible to take her eyes off the drawing. Slowly, she placed her current drawing down on the desk so she could reach for the one that held her full attention. One that felt so familiar.

One that she'd given Chat.

As she stared at her drawing, one that had been folded in order to fit in the envelope, her mind started reeling. There was only one reason he would have it. One way he could.

And she wasn't sure her heart could take the answer.

It couldn't be that simple, could it? That Adrien was Chat Noir? No. Certainly not. Tikki said she danced with the prince that night. Adrien had spent the night dancing with Tikki.

But then she thought of that night, thought of the man who had led her around the garden. Thought of his stature, his hair, his voice. And all she could see… was Adrien.

Her breathing increased. Didn't he tell her that night that he had an arranged marriage as well? That he would have to cut off correspondence to be loyal to his future wife.

Tears threatened to spill over as she set the picture down.

"Marinette?"

Instantly, she spun, coming face to face with Adrien.

He was surprised to see Marinette in his office. However, it certainly wasn't an unwelcomed one. What was unwelcome was the tears in her eyes.

"My dear," he cooed, ready to take her into his arms and hold her until she settled. "What's wrong?"

"You're Chat Noir?"

He froze, his eyes wide and chest suddenly tight. "P-pardon?"

"You're Chat Noir," she tearfully choked out.

As he watched the tears trail down her cheeks, he snapped to action, quickly wiping them away with his thumbs.

"You're my Chat Noir," she whispered, staring up at him.

And that's when it hit him, his gut sinking and breath growing short. "Ladybug."

A choked-up sob escaped through her smile. "Hello, my Black Cat."

His world was suddenly spinning as he was suddenly taken back to that night, of dancing with a woman in red, her black curls shining in the moonlight. His eyes then locked on hers at the memory of him catching her before she ran off, begging to know what color her eyes were.

"They're so beautiful."

"Hmm?"

"Your eyes," he whispered. "I didn't imagine that they'd be this blue."

Another sob escaped her, and Adrien wasted no time cocooning her up against his chest, reveling in how her hair brushed against his jaw as she choked out a few more sobs on his shoulder.

"How did you discover that?" he asked once she had calmed.

"I saw my drawing on your desk," she answered. "One of the last ones I sent you."

He sighed. "I couldn't help myself. Your work inspired some of my poems. I was hoping to draw some inspiration from it again to write to you."

She chuckled, and he wished that she would laugh more often. It was a sound that he'd grown quite fond of and wanted to hear more often. "I was just about to give you another drawing. One of the scenery you described in your last poem."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked. "I feel as though it's not my best work."

"It's still lovely," she assured. "Though I cannot lie, I much prefer your romantic works."

"I can give you those again."

"I would enjoy that very much."

Marinette had spent the rest of the day right at her husband's side. The announcement that dinner was ready was surprisingly unwelcomed as they were enjoying talking about everything and nothing. It felt like a whole other side to her husband had been exposed to her, and she was reveling in it.

After dinner, Adrien had caught hold of her hand and they had slipped away form the others in attendance at dinner. "Come with me?" he asked. "I want to show you something."

Marinette bit her lip. "What?"

"It's a surprise," he said with a smile that caused her heart to race.

It made it impossible to say no. "All right."

With a widening grin, he took her hand and led her outside. He called for a stable boy to saddle up two horses.

It didn't take long for the men to tack up the horses. Adrien lifted her up onto one of the horses before mounting up one of his own.

He then guided the horse off into the fading night, glancing back to ensure she was following. She lead the horse up beside him.

"Are you comfortable riding fast?" he asked.

Marinette nodded, prompting Adrien to kick his horse on. Marinette did the same, and they cantered off into the sunset.

And when they stopped, she couldn't help but gape at the scenery.

"This river," Adrien said, dismounting. "Is the place I envision when I wrote several of the poems I sent you, including the one you chastised me for for being too lewd."

Marinette allowed him to assist her down from the mount. "I…" She felt a blush return at the thought of that poem. "It's not lewd between two lovers," she said, certain she was blushing at this point. "But it was too much for a woman who wanted to be able to have sweet affections from a man she never met."

Surprise was clear on Adrien's face, and Marinette bowed her head in embarrassment.

But then he chuckled, cradling her chin and lifting her head to face him again. "I'm sorry to have caused you so much trouble, my lady. But…" A charmingly lopsided grin stretched across his face. "Seeing as you are now my wife, would you allow me to indulge in some of those behaviors."

It was hard to breathe as her heart thundered in her chest and her stomach twisted into knots. "You may," she answered breathlessly. Because this was her husband. Her love. Hers. Just as she was his. She had once wanted his affection like this, and now… now it seemed she would be rewarded with it.

If she didn't faint first.

He took her in his arms, and she was instantly reminded of their first night, dancing together under disguises.

But then… that meant…

"Adrien?"

"What is it, my love?"

She took a breath. "If you were dancing with me in the gardens that night, then… who did my maid dance with?"

"Your maid?" he asked, confused.

She nodded. "I sent her to pretend to be me so I could dance with you in the gardens. I'd been told the prince was waiting for me…" She trailed off, mostly because he was no longer listening.

He was laughing. Loud and freely. "I sent my butler," he said through his chuckles. "Because I simply couldn't leave you, Ladybug, stranded there, waiting in the gardens for me."

As soon as his words sank in, Marinette couldn't help but laugh with him, their dance to the song of the crickets coming to a complete halt.

"We are terrible!" she cried. "Leaving our fiancés with a servant so we could meet with each other."

"It really is horrible, isn't it?" Adrien agreed. "What a terrible first impression."

"We don't deserve our spouses."

"We certainly do not. How forgiving they are for our indiscretion."

"Such scandalous behavior."

Adrien calmed. "It is," he said. "And looking back, I would like to apologize for it. Leaving you with my butler. It was so rude of me."

Marinette took a moment to really think about it, how childish and immature she was to force her friend into such a situation. To lie to her fiancé so she could meet a man she'd never met yet loved from his letters. "I'm sorry, too."

Adrien gave her hands a squeeze, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. "It's almost not fair," he said. "That we were so lucky; that the two unfaithful royals end up with each other."

"A blessing, indeed," Marinette agreed.

"But I have to wonder," he said, pulling away. "Is it fair or honest that I only fell fully in love with you once you admitted you were Ladybug? Is that unfair to Marinette?"

Her lip found her way between her teeth. He asked such a good and honest question, and she couldn't help but wonder the same thing. Was if fair to Adrien that her love bloomed quickly only when she discovered her was Chat Noir? "I…" She swallowed, hoping her words would be steady. "I think… Chat Noir and Ladybug had been so close for a lot longer than Adrien and Marinette even know each other. And that… that it's understandable that Chat Noir would have strong feelings for Ladybug and vice versa. And I think, that considering that we are Chat Noir and Ladybug, that Adrien and Marinette could have fallen for each other, too. Given time."

Adrien regarded her carefully. "I would like to think the same," he said, his hand traveling from cupping her cheek to threading through her hair. "Because I feel as though I was slowly falling for Marinette, and that I honestly could have loved her deeply with time."

Marinette was very thankful he was holding her up with an arm around his waist, because her knees felt weak. "And I think," she responded. "That given time, I could have fallen in love with Adrien."

His smile was the brightest thing in the night. Brighter than the full moon. Brighter than any of the fireflies dancing in the field. "Marinette," he spoke reverently, cradling the back of her head in a tender way that sent her mind flying back to the second to last poem he'd sent her. And she couldn't help but wonder if this was the night she'd know just what such tender, loving affections felt like. "May I kiss you?"

Her answer was a simple one. "Yes."