The house was more deserted than usual. I couldn't even find Nathalie. I found a pad on her desk and wrote her a note, saying that I was going to the movies and was taking my bodyguard. Then I found the bodyguard and told him my father was giving him an unscheduled day off.

He looked pretty dubious, but I pointed out that he was leaving me in the most heavily-guarded house in Paris. I made sure he saw me activate the electric gate, and the spikes that shoot out of the walls to discourage any would-be climbers. He eventually left, looking back at me all the way down the street. I tried to feel grateful—rather than annoyed—that he was so concerned about my safety.

I looked in at the dining room, with its big, lonely table and its array of breakfast items. Even when Nathalie wasn't there to oversee my meal-times, the chef always made sure there was food. But I couldn't stand to be in the same room as food. I was probably going to regret it later. And I still had to feed Plagg his ripe, pungent camembert, which would be like being in the same room as the most aggressive food in the world, without even obtaining any nourishment from it.

I went back to my room and shut the door. Plagg was on the bed, curled possessively around his cheese, but not eating it. He had that same tense, expectant look he had worn at Master Fu's house, when he'd been waiting for me to do something desperate. It wasn't a bad bet—then or now.

It was too soon to transform—and anyway, Plagg needed to eat. But I couldn't bring myself to tell him that. I could barely bring myself to look at him.

I started pacing instead, past the grand piano and the widescreen TV, in and out of the en suite bathroom. At some point, Plagg flew up and started following me around, hovering anxiously at my elbow.

"So..." he said, in a small voice. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking there's a lot you could have told me."

Plagg hung his head. "There isn't," he muttered.

"You knew she was Marinette."

"Yes."

"Did you know Marinette was in love with me?"

"With Adrien?" he said, as if it was an important distinction. "Yes."

I hesitated before asking the next question, trying to get my voice as steady as I could make it.

"Did you know I was in love with Marinette?"

"Yes. So did you, actually. You just didn't know you knew."

"Yeah, I don't know what that means," I snapped. "How could you let me lose her like that?"

"You can never lose her."

I narrowed my eyes in exasperation. "What do you think is happening right now? You let me--"

"Let you? I didn't tell you to say the things you said to her!"

"You weren't exactly whispering helpful hints in my ears! All you care about is yourself—your own entertainment! You see these things that could save me or break me, and you think, 'I'll see how long it takes him to figure it out on his own. It's more fun to watch him suffer.'"

"You," said Plagg softly, "are not the one who suffered."

I stopped short, as if he'd slapped me, but he had already lowered his head onto his paws, and was looking as sheepish as it's possible for a cat-spirit to look.

"Adrien..."

"I know," I said, in a ragged voice. "I'm sorry too. But you--" I waved my hands wildly "--you couldn't have given me some kind of hint?"

"Five hundred," said Plagg. "I gave you literally five hundred hints. And you knew what I was dreading. This--" he waved a paw at the window, and the deceptively beautiful day outside. "This always happens when creation and destruction get too close to each other."

I stopped my pacing again. "You said it's worse at the start," I muttered, trying to remember our conversation in the car on the way back from Marinette's picnic. "What did you call it? The tipping-point? Does that mean it gets better? Do Ladybug and Cat Noir ever survive the tipping-point?"

I wanted to add, 'Do they ever get to be together?' But it sounded childish, after the previous question. Besides, her survival was enough. I could give her up if it meant she would live through this, even if it involved breaking her heart. Again.

"They've survived on occasion," said Plagg. "Believe it or not, the times when they didn't were bad enough for me to never want to risk it again."

He lowered his head onto his paws and stared sombrely at his wedge of cheese. "That's what I meant when I said you couldn't lose her. She's the other half of your soul. Like me with Tikki. Unknowingly breaking her heart, dating other women—none of those things are going to take her out of your life. They couldn't. But the two of you can still die. When you get too close to each other, that's a real danger. I don't know if you've ever bothered to consider it, but a six-thousand-year-old Kwami can get pretty hung-up on his master's mortality. So I hope you can understand why I was a bit ambivalent about your happily-ever-after. I loved you enough that I still hinted. That was the best I could do."

I sat down on the side of the bed and nudged the cheese towards him, trying to muster a smile. "Thank you, Plagg. I mean it."

"The other thing..." he said slowly. "What Master Fu said about controlling your fear..."

I shrugged, even though my shoulders felt as if they were being weighed down with anvils. "I just need to get up there, right? I'm always happy when I'm up there."

Plagg didn't say anything, so I went on, "Why? Do you have any tips?"

"Not really my area of expertise," he said. "I'm chaos, not control."

"Have you ever had a master who used the Cataclysm on people?"

It wasn't a complete change of subject. It occurred to me that, if he was chaos, then I was supposed to be control, and I wasn't sure how well-qualified I was for that job at the moment. I didn't know what I would do to Hawkmoth if I saw him now.

"Oh yeah," said Plagg. His voice was heavy, but also kind of wistful.

"What does it do?" I asked.

"Pretty much what you'd expect."

"What does it look like?"

"It's not pretty."

I could see it in my mind's eye. Once or twice, I had even dreamed about it--and then woken up bewildered, because as far as I knew then, I didn't have any ill-feelings towards anybody.

"I'll never do that," I said--more for my benefit than for his.

But Plagg lifted his head and gave me a strange, sharp-toothed smile. "Let's not make any promises yet. We don't know what he's done to her."

I clenched my hand on my lap and then, with an effort, straightened it out again. "We're going to get her back, Plagg."

He didn't say anything, but he shut his eyes, as if the world was suddenly back on course, and I realized he had been trying to get me to say that all along. I had to believe it, didn't I, if I was going to succeed? I did believe it, I just didn't know what it would cost yet. I didn't know that I cared what it would cost either.

I nudged the cheese towards him again. "Eat something, Plagg. We've got a long day ahead of us."