Perfect. There was no other way to describe it.

Marinette looked herself up and down in the giant, gold-plaited mirrors in front of her. She looked like a perfectly presentable princess. A long, pink dress with toole surrounding her like a soft bell dropped around her feet. Her black hair, cascading in magical waves, shone in the lights surrounding the mirrors' edge. She was glowing, really, thanks to the way her servants taught her perfect skin care, painted perfect makeup on her, fed her the perfect amount of perfectly healthy food.

Two years ago, this was Marinette's dream. But now, looking at her perfectly polished bare feet on the perfectly polished wooden floors, Marinette only felt how cold those floors were. The wind from the open, 12-foot-high window slowly flowed in and pushed the white curtains into the room, just like the willow tree outside her old home swung as she swung on the swing last summer.

She shivered in the early afternoon air. This place, this perfectly beautiful place with high ceilings, large furniture, designer-brand decorations, was not her home.

It never would be.

And that was perfectly okay, of course, Marinette lied to herself as she turned from the mirror and run the bell for her servants. Two older women walked in, smiles bright on their faces, the pictures of obedience. Marinette smiled kindly.

"Are you ready now, your highness?" Jenna asked.

"Yeah—I mean yes, I am, thank you," replied Marinette, catching her slip up. Jenna briskly walked to the closet and grabbed the golden high heeled shoes. Marinette looked at Brianna, the slightly younger, dark skinned woman, who winked at her and mouthed, "You got this, sweetie," and Marinette let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She nodded, and she walked ahead of the two women once her shoes were on, down the long hallways and corridors, through the castle (where she left the two women and was soon surrounded by the two large men in all black) into the back seat of the sleek, black car, ignoring the reporters outside of the church, and into the large cathedral.

Everything was just like Christmas Sunday, the one time Marinette had been inside it. It was lovely, the stained-glass windows letting in more light than Marinette remembered, and she looked at the already filled seats, people whispering to each other, an energized excitement in their forces and brightening up the even more. Marinette, her face the same polite expression she usually had, walked to the front seat, waving to the people who noticed her and silently begged for her attention. There was the duke and his wife witting next to the countess and her husband. And look! The baroness with her absent husband... but she brought her kids. Well, at least no one would be lonely during the ceremony.

Except Marinette, of course.

Marinette found her seat. She was, technically, a princess, so she should have been up at the front, but she had begged for months to not have to go through with that. And looking at the awkward way her new cousin-in-law stood at the front, with a happy smirk adorning her face, Marinette didn't regret her sacrifice for one second. She could be a perfectly perfect princess for the day if she didn't have to have everyone staring at her.

The groom... the King... her father... stood at the center, beads of sweat crowning his forehead. Marinette caught his eye and pointed to his forehead, and then mimed someone crying dramatically. He playfully glared at her.

Just as everyone's whispers became louder, the music started, hushing everyone else. They all stood and turned around to look at her, the beautiful, lovely, genuinely perfect and happy Queen Elena of the Catarina Kingdom.

Her smile was bright. Blonde hair and pale skin contrasted her dark brown eyes. Looking at the Queen in that white dress, made of ivory, silk, and satin, Marinette begrudgingly could see how her father fell in love. And knowing her father, she knew how the Queen fell in love with him. They smiled at each other, and Marinette saw two people glowing, inside and out.

Marinette cried as they said their vows. Unlike the others, they weren't tears of happiness.

These vows should have been only between her mother and father forever. Not with the queen of the kingdom, who already had everything. And now, a kiss, to seal it away.

...

Finally, the night was done. The festivities were checked off the list, the dinner party, the ball, the Queen and now-King off foreign lands. Really, it was just a political excuse for a honey moon.

At last, she could go to bed.

Letting her wet hair lay across her silk pillow sheets, Marinette closed her eyes, ready to sleep.

She tossed.

She turned.

She checked the clock. Midnight. She had to be up in five hours.

She closed her eyes again. But images of the last year flooded her mind. The memories pooled together, and the feelings, sick disgusted feelings, pooled in the pit of her stomach, lingering. She shivered. Grabbing the pink robe that hung on the side of her bed, Marinette wrapped herself in it and put her sweaty feet on the cold ground. She shivered harder and opened the giant window as quietly as she could. She stood on the balcony, taking a deep breath of the air surrounding her.

It was still technically summer, and it would be for a few more days, but a chill gust of wind brushed against her clammy skin. Marinette took a second to appreciate that despite the cold, the breeze was a certainly a nice welcome against the suffocation inside the walls. The clouds covered the stars tonight, and it smelled like rain. A clean smell, reminding her of home.

She wondered how everyone was doing. Marinette pulled out her phone and looked at the plain white case, and turned on the light. Her phone, which once was full of text messages and silly memes, was empty.

Waking up to over 100,000 followers on social media after a coma shocked her to withdraw from everyone and everything. It was too much. But now, she missed her friends. Her fingers brushed over Alya's number, and the temptation to call was overwhelming. Let her know about the wedding she'd probably already seen already. Tell her about her gaping loneliness and how much she missed her mother. How she felt like she lost herself. Just hear her voice.

But she couldn't. How would Alya react? Would she hate her? Yell because she hadn't called? Be worried? Or worse, would she love Marinette more than before just because of who she suddenly became?

Marinette was afraid to find out.

Besides, she hadn't seen her in over a year, so really, what was the point? A year is plenty of time to get over a friend. Even if they had been friends for years.

Yet... Did Alya think of her often?

Marinette shook her head quickly, as if she could shake away the thoughts with physical movement. But right as she stepped back into her room, a thought she couldn't shake away came to her mind.

What if... What if Marinette snuck out and saw Alya?

No. Don't be ridiculous.

Unless...

Marinette slowly, sloooowly, opened her bedroom door, grateful that the maintenance crew fixed the creaks two days ago. Looking left and right, she was fully prepared to come face-to-face with a guard, but there was no one. Maybe they were switching shifts? She didn't know how it worked, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Marinette, barefoot in a pink silk robe, slinked across the corridor shadows until she made her way to the servants' quarters. She checked each move to make sure she wouldn't be seen.

Finally arriving at the servants' changing room, she slowly peeked in and blushed immediately. The middle-aged guard and a young maid were... not doing their jobs.

Well, that answers that mystery.

            When she found herself in front of the servants' laundry doors, Marinette put her ear up to the wall and listened. It was silent. She slowly opened the door and peeked around the corner. She walked as quickly as she could to the room where the clean clothes were. If anyone caught her, she'd simply say she was sleepwalking. Effect of the accident. They'd feel too much pity for anything else.

But she miraculously didn't find anyone on her way, nor when she changed her clothes in a hidden closet, nor when she covered her head with the red shawl she'd seen the locals wear when it was sunny out. No one saw as she left the servants' exit, through the trees, and over a wall. She ignored the brief thought that it would be too easy for someone break it.

            The cobblestone streets, small bakeries, and shops contrasted against modern life. Growing up, Marinette always imagined a castle like Cinderella and the town the same—old fashioned, small-town people, etc. But as Marinette walked through the streets, she realized that while her Castle was certainly a small version of Cinderella's castle, this town was rich in old architecture. Her bare feet scuffled on the dusty stone streets, and she tried her best to hide her self, but her imagination ran wild.

She could almost see the streets packed with bustling about, buying groceries. Youths wore Westernized clothes and laughed in groups or walked through the streets with their families, while the older generation wore more traditional clothes, loose scarves and intricately embroidered dresses in a soft fabric of rich colors as they hobbled in the streets, some selling homemade bread while others simply seemed to enjoy the pleasure of their surroundings.

            Marinette walked through the streets, knowing she'd have to come back. The waffle-looking sweets in the bakery looked delicious. Those earrings stole her heart. A toothless grin could win her over in a heartbeat. Marinette couldn't help but be grateful as she saw signs in both English and French. Maybe she'd have a shot at getting past any social barrier she was still learning in tutor Plagg's classes.

Marinette realized that although she hadn't met a single civilian, besides her servants, although she would never be in charge of this people, she knew she loved them. And the second she could leave the castle, she could, and would, find every single beautiful thing in the country.

Suddenly Marinette heard scuffles in the alleyway beside her. She turned her head quickly to follow the sound and hid in the shadows, behind an empty crate.

Two men walked by, whispering too quietly for her to hear. They were dressed in deep purple capes and black clothes, with masks that covered half of their faces. Looking at them, Marinette had an icky feeling in her stomach that went beyond just the fear of getting caught. She was suddenly really grateful for the self-defense courses she'd been forced to take over the past eight months.

She heard them say, "--burn down the --" before it got too quiet again. Marinette felt her heart beat faster. Whatever they were up to, it wasn't good. And although she couldn't actively do anything about it at the moment, she maybe could get some information to bring back to the guards, and see if they could stop it.

When they turned the corner, Marinette took a deep breath and followed behind. She couldn't take any chances.

They seemed to take random turns, but they obviously knew where they were going since they moved in sync. Marinette followed as close behind as she could without getting caught. Eventually, they ended up in a clearing, and in the middle, there was a fire.

The men got into a line of others wearing the same cloaks. Marinette watched as they all surrounded the fire in the middle of the cobblestone streets. Marinette wasn't sure if it was some sort of ritual or fun bonfire, but something about it all seemed off.

Just then, two more people came out of another alleyway, carrying something heavy between the two. Marinette's heart leapt into her throat, and she shrunk further down, though she doubted they could even see her.

Was that a body? Marinette gasped but quickly covered her mouth, though she doubted she'd be heard over the low murmur of men speaking. She stepped back further, back into the alleyway, unsure of her next turn. But then she saw someone hiding about 15 feet away from her, watching the scene with a prowl. Marinette slunk down and went to follow him behind the giant dumpster, ignoring the offending smell.

"What are you doing?" she asked, whispering as she crouched a few feet behind him.

The boy jumped and turned like an owl, "What are you doing?"

Marinette blushed. She barely saw him in the light of the full moon, but she saw enough. It was too dark to see the color of his eyes, but it wouldn't matter because he wore a mask covering everything except the eyes themselves. Blonde hair and... were those cat ears? She looked him up and down and saw his lanky form in a black suit, and... no... a tail?

"You know it's not Halloween, right?" she whispered.

He looked offended. "I know."

"Then why are you all..." she gestured to his outfit.

The boy stepped back. "I'm Chat Noir. Who... Never mind, that isn't important right now. You need to get out of here."

"Why?" Marinette whispered, knowing the answer.

"Because it's dangerous here," Chat Noir stated firmly. He grabbed her arm firmly, and he pulled her behind him. Marinette was too in shock by the whole scene to do anything else.

"You aren't supposed to be out past dark," he said darkly.

"I know," she said, hoping he didn't recognize her. She hoped that the hood, mixed with her banks and the dark of the night, covered her face enough to not be seen well. Marinette continued, "Who were those people?"

He turned and gave her a strange look but pushed her against the wall when he thought he heard someone, and he put a finger to his lips. Marinette didn't breathe. They were silent for a few long moments before Marinette, and Chat Noir, realized the only sound came from someone from inside the open window. They were likely sleep talking from the incomprehensible mess.

Chat Noir let out a deep breath. "Where are you from?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone here knows about them."

"I don't."

"Hmm." He looked at her suspiciously, and for some reason, Marinette could see a glint of kindness in his eyes. And now, she could see those eyes were green. He was taller than her, she realized as he stood next to her, so close to his face in an alleyway, and he looked down with strong cheekbones. She blushed, once again hoping her hood shaded her well. He continued, "Well, since you don't know about them, it's probably better you're not left in ignorance. Though," he muttered briefly, "if you are from here, I hope you don't live under a rock."

Marinette's blush quickly became a bit more hot. "Excuse me, I do not--"

"They're the Akumas," he continued. "About six months ago, they started up trouble. I'm trying to figure out why. And random people have gone missing, but again... not sure why. They're scaring people big time, and they've killed a few people in the name of Hawkmoth. Again, though, no one understands it, they just know it's not safe to come out at night. They warned us, at least, but some people don't listen. I was about to get some answers when someone --" he glared at Marinette playfully "-- interrupted me. I'd rather you be safe. There are other nights I can figure things out." He paused and looked down at his hand, suddenly lost in thought.

"So you're, what, a self-proclaimed superhero?" Marinette asked dubiously.

Chat buffed his fingernails on his shoulder and smirked. "You said it."

"How about I help you?" she asked suddenly.

"You? No. That's not safe."

"What, because I'm a girl?" Marinette frowned at him. He probably could see it because he backed up quickly with his hands in front of him.

"No, no. Because you're so small. And these guys are really dangerous."

"I can defend myself," she said, sounding defensive.

"Well, what special skills do you have?" he asked. "Sword-fighting, gun-wielding, fist-fighting, blowing bubbles too hard?" He smirked again, a little flirtatiously.

"I'm fast," Marinette growled. "And I do know self defense. Also, I climb quickly. So you wouldn't have to focus on me, I can run and get out of the way quickly."

"You climb?" Chat sounded like he didn't fully believe her.

Marinette nodded.

Chat crossed his arms in front of himself and stared at her daringly. "Prove it."

Marinette slowly walked over to the wall, knowing she didn't want to move too fast for her cape to fall off. She turned briefly, made eye contact with him, and looked away before he could say anything else. Then, suddenly, she started to climb the wall, holding on to the creases and crevices. She'd always loved heights, and her parents used to call her a little bird when she was young and would climb trees. They said she moved as if she could fly. Before wasting too much time, she climbed back down and then stood awkwardly on the ground, unsure of what to do next. She settled on a rigid stance.

Chat Noir scoffed approvingly. "Huh. That could come in handy."

"So I can help?" She felt too eager.

Chat tilted his head at her and then smiled kindly. "I think a trial run wouldn't be so bad. Plus, I don't want to be alone in all this," he said. "It'll be nice to have someone watch my back."

Marinette stood straighter. "Self-proclaimed superheroes, I guess."

He laughed. It was high, and so much lighter than his dark suit. Marinette felt her heart pump and ache, just a little. "Guess so. What can I call you, then?" he asked.

Marinette smiled and blushed, excited about the new arrangement. She thought to the meaning of the city. Catarina: pure. She would make this city pure, and she would do everything she could to be so as well. What else was pure? Dogs? No, they were too excitable. That didn't describe her well. Butterflies? No, that was too close to Monarch. Ladybug?

Marinette nodded. "Call me Ladybug."

"Ladybug it is."

Marinette looked down briefly and suddenly realized how sleepy she'd become. She knew she wasn't getting enough sleep tonight, but she figured it was about time for her to head back so they didn't ask too many questions. Marinette nodded her head slowly and then smiled at Chat Noir.

"I'll see you around?" she asked, signaling her leave.

"Yeah. See you around," he said, smiling back, before turning and slinking back into the shadows.