Marinette and Lord Chat

Who would ever help a stranger who did not even disclose their name?

Me, apparently. Maybe he was some kind of lunatic. No, I must have been the one out of my mind. Although, now we were close to one another in a dark and humid tunnel so he didn't seem half as bad, just… too quiet.

“Can you say something?” I inquired to break the silence. He seemed focused on traversing to the other side. Slightly put off by the enclosed space.

“I am sorry to tell you, but the lady has been pretty rude.” Said the nameless stranger struggling to hold on to our only source of light.

“Who was the rude one first? Lord… Chat.” Had he erased his past actions out of his mind?

“There you go again. Let us just get this over with.” He walked slowly, trying to balance not hitting his head on the ceiling and stepping away from mice.

“Lord Chat.” He looked behind to where I was “I do not know your circumstances, and equally I do not understand why I am helping you. So let’s make peace.” I smiled at him hoping for this to be over soon.

“Lady without manners, you threaten me into this situation.” I could not make out his expression, but he was about right.

“Oh please, I was just bluffing.” Was I on some kind of spell, why did I do that?

“You said you were going to scream if I did not accompany you.” Lord Chat shook his head in disapproval as he got to the end of the tunnel.

“For your own good!” I said jokingly but he did not find it amusing.

“Right, then care to explain why we are in such a dark place?” He looked around as if this was new to him.

“Interesting.” How could he not know about the tunnels that ran beneath the village?

“Did you listen to me?” Indeed, it all fit right into place, his physique was of someone who probably didn't work a day in his life.

“They will come soon.” My voice is like a whisper, ambiguous in a way to assess his knowledge of the forest.

“Are you attempting to scare me?” I laughed at his question.

This forest had another name far in the past, related to those we rarely see. The almighty ones we could never relate to, with the power to smith us with a flick of a finger. Now the locals refer only to the natural lights, “Will O’Wisp”. Although most knew they were just fireflies, mystery keeps the working people alive.

“What is this?” For some reason, I found his surprise endearing. Did he live behind a boulder all his life? “Is this sorcery? Are you a witch?” He took two steps back and I did the same towards him.

“How I wish being a witch was that easy. These are fireflies!” The older people would probably react the same.

“How does fire fly?” As he inquired innocently, I could not hide my smile.

“Oh dear. Insects! Little beings, often confused with magic fire.” He seemed truthful, so I explained carefully.

“I knew that.” Lord Chat seemed to stand straighter than before in an attempt to hide embarrassment.

“Sure, you did. And I am the queen!” I conceded, amused at the scene.

A noble or a foreigner, for sure. Which one? That was up to me to find out.

...ꕥ...

We had been walking for a while in silence, I guided him through that familiar path out of the forest, where people lived and he could hide easily.

Who had I helped? So far, despite my attempts, nothing I asked had a positive response. If he was a royal of some sort he could compensate me for this, maybe even get me into the court as a dressmaker. Oh, how lovely that would be…

“The Lord is not from here right?” I shot at him hoping for a moment of weakness. That feeling that I had uncovered his mask.

“If you mean to say I live in such a place, then the answer is no.” He didn't even pause. Unfortunately, I couldn't figure out from his voice if he had not understood or if he was deliberately throwing my question off.

“So… are you not human then?” I pressed further, hoping for a reaction.

“How did you arrive at that conclusion?” He appeared to be unbothered.

“That.” I pointed at his strange attire “The rude way you speak.” I stared at him frantically trying to clean the mud out of his shoes “Everything about you really.”

“No, that is entirely not true. Let's say I am a foreigner.” As he looked at me, he didn't seem sure. Who was he really?

“Which country?” I quizzed hoping for a quick answer or a lie.

“Spain!” This time he seemed sure, and figuring out lies from the truth was difficult.

“Sure, Spain! So tell me more. What is the name of your king?” Did I know the answer either? No. But that was not the point, what I needed was a moment of hesitation. A clear lie. Something. Anything, that told me more about him.

“Um… Filipe.” He glanced everywhere but at my eyes. I caught him!

“You are not from Spain, are you?” With confidence I asked, hoping for a sliver of truth from him.

“Lady, I cannot tell you where I am from.” Once again, he had not answered. In honesty, I was tired from the day walking around the fair and this crazy ordeal I had gotten myself into.

Perhaps, sometimes you ought to wield.

“I guess that is fair! Could you at least explain why you are running? After we have been through all of this together, do I not even deserve to know that?” His face formed into a frown.

“Let me see. Do you read?” What kind of question was that? I felt the urge to be contrarian.

“Who do you think I am?” I shot back at him.

“You do?” His genuine surprise was even more aggravating.

“You are for sure a noble.” Using noble as an insult was not very common, but for me it sure was. And when he was at a loss for words, seemingly offended, then it surely became one.

“Okay, got it! So you know those princesses who are stuck in a tower and one day they escape.” This time he didn't ask.

“I am familiar with fairytales, yes.” I retorted.

“So you know, they are never truly let go. There will always be someone trying to catch them.” I could more or less understand what he was saying. What was more baffling was the use of a fairytale for that.

“I see. So are you a prince?” I asked jokingly, but a Lady could take some help in her career. Somehow, this does not make me ashamed. What is the use of talent and pride, without a job?

“How could that be what you take from my story?” His voice hinted at nervousness.

“It could be useful to know.” Suddenly I stopped, to wait for his answer.

“I am not.” He answered in defeat.

I stared at him for a bit trying to assess the situation. “Can you get to safety from here?”

He looked around trying to determine his location “That bakery. I know this bakery.”

“Huh. How come?” Unknowingly I had led him right to my home, familiarity is dangerous. I had forgotten there was a stranger sneaking up with me today.

“It's useful to know you have such a covert way to get here. The Lady probably does not care for it, however, my mother loved the macarons from here. ” His voice was laced with something new. Sadness, probably. But how would I know for sure? Oh, for the love of the goddess! I should not be curious.

“In my totally unbiased opinion, they are the best in the whole city.” I said to break the atmosphere.

“That I am not sure.” He grinned at my sudden resolve about baked goods.

“Oh, but I am.” Even after 21 years not once had I refused to eat my parent’s food. There was no better bakery.

“Alright then, you seem like an expert.” It seemed like he did not want to pick a fight. He was probably also tired, wishing to soon be back home.

“Far from it.” Right, I should draw the line here. “Then it’s time for farewells.” Whoever this person was, we did not belong to the same place.

“Is there any way to thank you?” The Lord glanced confused at my silence after that. It all boiled to that. I had helped and it came with a reward. Yeah, I should be thankful. “We could hold a meeting later, so you have time to decide.”

“That would be perfect.” A grin escaped me at the thought “Leave a letter at this bakery, I know the people who own it.” In part it was not a lie, they are my parents. Naturally, they are people that I know.

“Lady.” He bowed “It was most pleasant to have you assist me. I will be sure to pay you back.” It seemed to me he waited for me to bow back.

“Lord Chat.” I conceded, bowing back clumsily “I am happy I could help you. Let us say farewell on a good note. I hope you make it back to safety.” And somehow after this short meeting.

I meant it.

He walked away. Soon, his coat mixed with the night. I felt as if he had never been real, maybe I had hallucinated. The late-night breeze hit my skin, cold and empty. I hoped he would send a letter, but more than that his company.

I was crazy! A strange lord, running away from the law. Most likely. Wearing doubtful clothing and yet I felt like we could be friends. How stupid. Never trust any man, except for Adrien Agreste! I remembered, reaching for the journal clipping I had stored a few hours before.

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