10. Chapter 9

A/N: So, kudos for panteabooks for basically guessing this chapter two chapters ago.

Also, 301 of you people think this fanfiction was good enough to follow (301! *squeals in happiness*) and 165 of you think it good enough to favorite. I love you all. :D

Marinette stared once again over the insane array of dishes, silverware, and who-knows-what-else all set up on the table in front of her. Tikki—patient as ever, bless her heart—was once again going over the proper dinnerware, its place on a table, its timing in a meal, and how to hold said item. It was after staring at the fourth different spoon for the third time that Marinette grew hopelessly overwhelmed.

Tikki sighed and replaced the spoon on the table before reaching over to rest a comforting hand on Marinette's shoulder while the girl fought the urge to cry into her hands.

At least there were three kinds of napkins for her to cry her tears into. She just didn't know which one to use.

"The lesson looks like it's going well."

"Plagg!"

Marinette looked through her fingers to see the smirking butler. Tall, thin, and snarky, Marinette had a hard time believing that this was the man Tikki moved for. Hopefully, she got to see some redeeming qualities soon, or else she would have to have a discussion with Tikki about quality men.

"I hate to interrupt it," Plagg continued, sarcastic as ever. "Shame I have to, but Marinette is needed at the front of the house."

"Where?" Marinette asked, removing her hands from her face and trying to regain her composure. The front of the house could mean any of three different rooms, the foyer, or either of the two hallways at the front of the house.

"You'll know. You'll hear the bickering," Plagg replied, a hint exasperated.

Bickering? What were the men bickering about that she was needed? With a sigh, Marinette stood from her seat, happy to get away from the table. She spared a glance at Tikki.

She waved a hand dismissively. "We'll call the lesson ended for today. Plagg will lead you while I clean this up."

Marinette frowned at the table full of dishes. She hated leaving all the work to Tikki, but before she could even open her mouth to offer to help, Tikki gave her a gentle shove forward. "Go on."

With a sigh, Marinette relented and followed Plagg. Sure enough, she could soon hear the squabble, but one voice was distinctly female. A guest?

Marinette's heart picked up its pace. She didn't know how to accept a guest into the house yet. Tikki had touched the topic once or twice, but they hadn't gotten that far in her training yet.

"I'm not hot-headed."

"I beg to differ."

"Then clearly, you never dropped everything to help a friend."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"Then please, elaborate."

"Oh, really? You need me to elaborate? Says the girl who told me at least five times on the way over how I don't need to explain anything to her?"

The woman growled, clearly being the loser of that fight.

"How they managed not to kill each other this far is miraculous," Plagg grumbled from her side.

Now curious because she swore she knew that voice, Marinette peeked around the corner of the hallway into the main foyer. Only for her face to split into a grin at the sight of a very-put-out brunette. "Alya!"

The girl looked up. Instantaneously, a smile replaced any hint of previous exasperation. "Marinette!"

Marinette braced for the impact of her friend as Alya ran to her. Admittedly, the smaller girl was running towards her friend, too. They collided, nearly toppling to the floor in the process. But they held themselves up and embraced in a tight hug. "Girl, I've missed you so much!"

"I've missed you, too. Everyone, really."

"Well, I'm here now," Alya excitedly replied.

Someone cleared their throat. Marinette straightened, mostly because it was a sudden reminder that maybe this behavior wasn't appropriate for the lady of the house. Pulling away from Alya, who looked like she had come to a similar conclusion, Marinette glanced behind her to see Lord Noir standing there.

Alya caught a glimpse of him, too, and immediately dipped into a curtsy. "My lord."

Marinette wasn't quite sure what to do in this situation, silently looking at Lord Noir's face for some guidance or a hint. During another rooftop talk last night, he had assured her that she was doing well in etiquette lessons and that she should stop fretting so much about them. He also assured her that he would always assist her should the need arise. Well, a need had risen.

And he just smiled softly at her, glancing to Alya, then her.

Introductions. Right. She could do that.

"This is Alya Cesaire," Marinette said, walking over to Lord Noir's side. "She is my best friend. We grew up together." She then turned to Alya. "Alya, this is Lord Noir." She then glanced around the room. Continue introductions. Right. "Then behind you, you've meet Lord Lahiffe, my…uh…husband's best friend. Then, we have Plagg, the main butler. And Sir Kim, another good friend of Lord Noir," she added upon seeing a familiar red tunic-ed man walk into the fray.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Lord Noir said.

"The pleasure is mine," Alya politely replied.

"What brings you?" Lord Noir continued, much to Marinette's relief. She wasn't sure how to direct the conversation. "Visiting my wife?"

"And bringing her a letter from her parents," she added.

Marinette lit up like a sunrise at the mention of a reply. She would be excited to read it, even though she had the feeling it might involve needing a handkerchief or two.

"Very good," Lord Noir said, smiling down at Marinette before turning back to Alya. "And you will be staying around for a while?"

At this Nino scoffed. Marinette was hard-pressed to miss the sour look on his face or the way Alya steeled herself. "Actually, sir, I hope to stay much longer. I have heard that you are in need of employees, and I have recently lost my job as a maid for Duke Bourgeois. I wish to put in an application for work, sir."

At first, Marinette was shocked. How could have Alya, one of the most respectable and hard-working persons she knew, have lost her job? Then it turned to anger because Chloe likely had something to do with it. Then hope filled her because if Alya was able to stay here…

"Do you have a reference? I make it a habit not to hire people without them."

Marinette caught the smirk on Nino's face as well as the disappointment on Alya's. "Unfortunately, sir, I do not."

Marinette's eyes widened. She glanced up at Lord Noir, waiting for the catch, waiting for him to say that it didn't matter and he'd hire her anyway. But neither happened. Instead, he was looking down at her, a brow raised questioningly. That's when it hit her. She was the catch.

"I can give Alya a reference," she spoke up. "She's hardworking and able to handle anything. She's the oldest of six, so even prior to working as a maid in the Bourgeois household, she was working hard, and she's determined enough to prove that no task is too big for her. She's not one to turn tail and run when things are difficult. Furthermore, she's able to handle secrecy very well. Anything she happens to hear or discover will stay with her. And she stands firm in her word and stances. She's not a push-over. She's steady, reliable, and dependable. You won't find many workers like her."

When she finished, Lord Noir was looking down at her with pride. "That's quite a recommendation." He glanced back up at Alya, who was standing tall with a slight smile aimed at Marinette's direction. "I'll have to think about it. For the meantime, you two can visit. Show Alya around. If she is to work here, she'll have to know the house anyways."

With a smile, Marinette reached out to touch his arm. "Thank you."

He patted her hand before she could pull away. "Of course." He then turned to take his leave. "Nino, compose yourself. You look ridiculous."

Marinette stole a glance at the man, who looked like he had just sustained a slap from his friend. It took him a moment to break out of his trance and high-tail it after his friend.

With a studious gaze, Alya watched the two men walk away. "He seems…interesting."

"Very much so," Marinette agreed.

Her friend then leaned in close. "Is it true?" she whispered. "That he hasn't forced you to lay with him?"

Marinette nodded. "He's…he's actually very kind."

Bewildered by Marinette's tone, Alya looked at her friend then to where Lord Noir disappeared to. "Well, girl, for your sake, I really hope he is even more than he appears to be."

"Buddy, are you kidding me?" Nino said to Adrien once the two were out of ear-shot. "She's obnoxious and—"

"I remember her." Adrien interrupted. "I didn't officially meet her, but our paths did cross. She pulled Marinette away when Theo and I were getting lectured by Mr. Damocles and Duke Bourgeois."

Sufficiently silenced, Nino couldn't do much more than gape.

"I can tell they are close. I don't want Alya to go for Marinette's sake. Having another girl around for her would only be a benefit."

"Then why bother with the whole 'reference' thing? I know that's some deeply ingrained habit, and a good one at that, but if you wanted the girl around for Marinette—"

"I wanted..." he started before the words seemingly died on his tongue. "I wanted to see her defend Alya. I...I wanted to give her a chance to see if she would stand up to me." Adrien felt his shoulders slump forward. "She's still nervous around me."

"Buddy," Nino cajoled, "it's not like you two were married under the best of circumstances. And still, look at how far she's come. I'm not surprised that she's still nervous around you—"

"She won't even call me by my name," Adrien said. That was what really was bothering him. "And did you hear how she introduced me as her husband? Like she was ashamed."

Nino sighed, struggling as he tried to figure out how to calm his friend. "Just give it time. It's only been a couple of weeks. She might need years. Not everyone can form instant friendships like us, or you and Kim."

Adrien was reluctant to agree, but he supposed he would have to. It just hurt that the girl who wasn't scared of him before was nervous around him now. The girl that wasn't afraid to give her cloak to a stranger or fight with the Prince of Paris over who should be wearing his cloak—the cloak that he was thrilled to know she kept and loved—was still nervous around him. The Prince of Paris downgraded to a Viscount and damned with bad luck.

It was hardly a wonder, but Adrien hated swallowing bitter pills like that.

"Work on spending time with her," Nino suggested, pulling Adrien out of his self-pity. "Take her out for a ride around the grounds. If you're with her, she'll be fine. And she hasn't seen the grounds yet. Getting out of the house will be good for her. And you. You spend too much time inside."

Adrien wanted to argue that he had good reason for it, but Nino wouldn't buy it. He never did. So Adrien mulled it over a moment before agreeing. "Fine. You're right."

"As usual."

"Don't push it."

Nino's smirk didn't dissipate until they were walking past Adrien's office. Nino nudged his friend, pointing towards the door.

Adrien's good mood fell as he walked into the room and shut the door behind him. "I don't like that look."

"I delivered the letter as soon as I got there. Her parents are pretty nice, by the way. Lucky you considering the size of her dad."

Adrien knew that to be true. Especially since his first impression of the man was him storming down the hallways after learning the bad news about his daughter. Adrien counted himself lucky that he had found favor with his father-in-law.

"As I waited for them to write a reply, I walked around trying to catch the latest gossip and whatnot. Let me tell you, that town is pretty loose-lipped. Besides hearing about twenty different versions of the baker's daughter marrying you, there's a couple about the war."

"Tell me all of them."

"Best I can tell is that the King of France is obsessed with finding something that he thinks your father has. I heard one rumor from a soldier at a tavern that the king hired assassins to invade the land and whoever got the items for him would marry his daughter."

"How would you gage his sanity?"

"The soldier or the king?"

"Soldier."

"Well, drunk off his rocker likely in an attempt to forget what he was talking about in the first place. My guess was he's not making it up."

Pushing past the pity in his heart for the soldier, Adrien forced himself to focus. Throughout his brief stint on the battlefield, he heard a lot of rumors. In fact, he'd like to say he learned more from rumors than he had from the spies. Adrien would like to think that he learned how to pick out the truths from the falsehoods for the most part. "If I have to guess, I'd agree with that. Considering the assassin that tried to kill me not all that long ago."

"Yeah, but we learned Theo gave him those orders, not the king. Besides, why would one of those assassins go after you? No one knows that Viscount Noir is actually the Prince of Paris. We work hard to make sure of that."

"Yes, but most people are aware that Viscount Noir is in line for the throne. One of the assassins could have believed I knew something about what the king was looking for."

Nino thought about it before shrugging. "I don't think so, but you won't let me rule it out completely."

Nino was right about that.

"But that isn't the worst of your problems right now."

A ball of lead settled in the pit of Adrien's gut. "No?"

"I spent some time in the high-class circle when I was there. They can't stop talking about your recent marriage either, especially one Chloe Bourgeois and her honorable father. But she's more bemoaning the fact that she hadn't heard from Lord Barbot in weeks. In fact, no one has. Supposedly, he just up and vanished."

Adrien sighed, growing sicker by the moment. "Well, that's just wonderful."

Nino grunted. "I've paid off a few people to keep me posted."

"Who?"

"Lady Juleka, Sir Ivan, and that portrait painter, Nathaniel."

"Good choices. Remind me later to reimburse you."

"Trust me, I will."

"Anything else I should know about."

Nino's frown deepened.

Which didn't bode well for Adrien. "Well?"

"Well," Nino continued slowly. "I also heard from Chloe that they were leaving that night to go to a small party your father was throwing. And with it being a only a two-day trip to the castle—"

"My father already knows about my marriage," Adrien finished, rubbing his suddenly tired eyes. He wanted to wait to tell his father. Wanted to give Marinette time to prepare to handle this. Wanted to postpone the inevitable backlash he was going to get for his marriage to a common girl. Instead, his father was going to learn about it from Chloe Bourgeois.

This was not going to end well for him.