Chapter Text
Princess Marinette Dupain-Cheng
Princess Marinette Dupain-Chang was incredulous. The council meeting was not going as planned. The King’s Council, the so-called elite of the kingdom, had devolved into a screaming match no more civil than a day at the docks. The princess quickly grew wary of it.
"That's enough!" Marinette was proud to see her voice carry over the men's deeper tones and to see most of them actually grow quiet. But there was still a small number of obstinate diplomats who were complaining as she glared at them. "I will put the next person to open their mouth, just to complain, in the stocks for the rest of the day and tomorrow." The men quieted; the princess was known for her volatility. She knew that a smirk pulled at her lips as they glared back at her. Marinette almost wished Duke Bourgeois would speak out of turn, she had a bone to pick with him after his last comment about her.
"I'm done hearing your petty complaints," she paused in her scolding, hoping one of them would speak up. Some of the men began to open their mouths to respond but then seemed to remember her threat. She knew her father would agree with her and they knew so as well. "That's all you're doing right now, complaining. You're the Council of Elite, the kingdom's acting government, and yet all I see right now is petty men complaining."
"What are we to do, then, your highness?" Duke Gabriel asked smoothly, he seemed to be the bravest among the elite. Did he hope she had a soft spot for him? "This year was a bad harvest year, our taxes are being stolen, our stores of provisions are being raided, and pirates have struck in all the islands more than once."
"And what have we done to remedy the situation? I hear some of us are hoarding supplies and letting our people starve." Princess Marinette glared at Earl Sancoeur, "Or worse, raising the fees for renting the farmland on farmers who barely make enough to pay for it in a good harvest year." She redirected her gaze and Baroness Rossi shifted in her seat. She was one of the worst ones. The princess could not understand how someone who knew how it felt to not have enough of anything to survive would cause the same pain on others. Wasn't it Marinette who sent her a bimonthly allowance to keep the barony running? "I hear some of you have raised taxes for everyone, without the consent of the crown."
The tension crackled in the room before Duke Bourgeois broke it with a yell. "It's all that Mountain mous e clan's fault! If they did not steal, we wouldn't need to raise taxes." Marinette almost burst out laughing at how ridiculous the duke looked and sounded when he butchered the name and said it as if it were a curse all at the same time.
"They're called Multimice, no clan, no mountain," the calm quiet voice caused a shiver to run down Marinette's back. If a voice could be called heavenly, it would be his. She didn't look at him when he spoke from his position outside the council seats.
"Thank you for the correction, Sir Knight," She fought the urge to look at him and lost. Beautiful peridot eyes stared back at her before he smiled and bowed his head. She was able to suppress the sigh.
"Whatever the name is does not matter! It's their fault some of us had to raise taxes, or charge them again." She was grateful and exasperated with the duke for forcing her eyes to deviate from the handsome knight.
"Who do we think we kid, your grace? Your taxes were high already. We turned a blind eye on it, for years." She did not look at her father, it was not her right to question his motivations.
The Duke sputtered. "I would never…"
"How many years have the Multimice been active?" She cut him off before he would say something incriminating. She didn't want to bring his corrupt records to the eyes of the council just yet.
"How would I know such barbaric facts?" the duke's voice rose higher, his face heating up.
"Your highness," she corrected. "How would I know such barbaric facts, your highness?" her voice resounded from the walls as if the twenty council members, the king, princess and their entourages and guards were not present.
"Right. How would I know those barbaric facts, your highness?" She decided to ignore the mocking in his address to her for the sake of time.
"Well, you would have a register of how many times the tax monies have been stolen over the years, that would give you a good idea for a timeline." Marinette knew how many times and how many years the Multimice had been active and the game of cat and mouse with the duke was insulting. "Especially since it's been such a big hassle for your dukedom."
"Three years, and two months," the alluring voice from behind Duke Bourgeois called out again. He would know, of course. He'd been trying to wrangle the Multimice since they actively started opposing the elite and stealing from their convoys and stores.
"There you have it. The reason we raise our taxes! Three years and two months of that… that terrorist group of people plaguing us!" The duke placed his hand over his heart and emulated a pained facial expression. He was not a good actor.
"I see, is that why you didn't bring the taxes with you, your grace? You thought they'd be safer If they didn't come with you and your daughter under a protected guard?" Marinette asked for clarification when she really wanted to drag him over the coals, if only it was the right time to do so.
"By an unfortunate oversight, the monies were unintentionally left behind,” his dishonesty was apparent through his careful choice of words. “but as soon as I realized the error, I sent for them. They should arrive tomorrow," his smile caused her stomach to roil. Did he know he was being used? By the conspiracy he was part of, by her to uncover them? Or did he actually believe his own lies?
"Of course your grace, I’m sure they will," and Marinette was certain they would arrive untouched. "Especially since I have the records." Was he nervous or was it her imagination? She watched him closely. Whom was he working with? Her gaze roamed the rest of the room. "On every single member of the council.” None of them so much as flinched.
“This is not a good year to overtax our citizenry and since we have been overtaxing our citizenry for quite some time now, the crown is limiting how much you can tax." The room exploded into a ruckus of sounds as merchants began cheering while the nobility cried in outrage. "Enough!" They were faster to quiet down than they had been the first time. "I expect the quarterly taxes to be on time. The same amount is due. You will make up the differences from your own coffers if you have to." There were a few snorts of derision but no more verbal objections.
"I also ask for the merchant guilds to cut prices. This is not a time to be greedy." The room broke out in a cacophony again, the merchants no longer celebrating while the nobility were malevolently gleeful to see the rest of the room in the same distress they had been. "We'll talk about raising taxes next quarter, if we have to. I think you all need a break, both from political talk and from me. I'll let my father decide if we continue the meetings today or tomorrow, but I will not allow father's Council of Elite to turn away from finding viable solutions only so wealthy men can gripe."
Marinette stood and curtsied to her father. "Your majesty, may I be dismissed?" After one sharp nod from her father she strode to the door.
The councilmen did not even wait for her to leave the room as they began to whisper. She paid no heed to their muttering.
Comments like, "Good thing she'll have a king to make the decisions when the time comes," no longer bothered her. She had heard different versions of it throughout the years.
It was the not so hushed, "What do you think of your Betrothed, Lord Agreste? She's sure to have more crazy ideas like that last one saved up," from Duke Bourgeois that almost made her turn around and expose him for the treasonous snake he was.
Instead she pulled the door open, and departed, her rage competing with the morbid amusement caused by seeing her entourage struggle away from their positions around the wall to follow her. Had they thought she would stay after she asked for a dismissal?
Sir Knight Adrien Agreste
The princess stormed furiously from the room, her entourage following clumsily after her as if they hadn't suspected she was about to leave. After the way she had just berated the councilmen, the knight was surprised her entourage thought she'd stay. All the while, the elite stared at the princess like she was an insane child spewing nonsense, and they were glad she was leaving.
The knight watched the aftermath of her discourse. This was the effect she had on them once in a while. She had the power to make people either rage or kneel at her feet. It wasn’t that she was beautiful; she wasn't necessarily ugly, but the knight had seen one too many beauties to compare her to them. It was her intelligence and ability to outwit anyone in her father's kingdom that had caused the strong reactions. She demonstrated this wit when she expressed ideas in her father's council room.
"It's too bad she's female," he had heard her father's advisors whisper after she had a particularly insightful observation in previous meetings.
"Good thing she'll have a king to make the decisions when the time comes," they commented today after she expressed ideas too radical for the conservatives.
That was the problem with being intelligent and female in her father's kingdom. The Council of Elites believed she was destined to be nothing more than the decoration on a prize - the kingdom. Her coronation would be on her twenty-fifth birthday, just like it would have been for any male heir, except that the council demanded she wed a son of one of the elite a month later. Adrien knew the story, knew how her father had refused that for as long as her mother had been alive and there had been a possibility for a male heir. The knight was sure the king would have allowed her to marry because of love and not convenience.
That was not the case. Once the queen had died and the elite were certain there would be no male heir, they pressured the king and he gave in. Adrien knew about the lottery the Elite had held to see what male of the elite would marry the then eight year old princess. It caused him disgust that they would do that to a child. The worst part was that there had been adult members to add their name to the lot, just to get the kingdom. In the end, Duke Gabriel’s eldest son won the lottery. Two children betrothed by a set of twenty greedy councilmen.
Adrien didn’t understand why the Elite couldn’t see her for what she was, a person capable of being a leader and not just a way to get the kingdom. It was the only reason he felt it was unfair for her that the king and queen were only able to have one child. Had they had a son, he would have been the heir to the throne and the princess would have been free. But there wasn’t a son, and the queen had died, making the princess’s ninth birthday the day her betrothal was announced.
"What do you think of your Betrothed, Lord Agreste? She's sure to have more crazy ideas like that last one saved up." Duke Bourgeois chuckled as he turned in his chair to look at the stoic knight that stood along the back of the room, away from the council table.
"Sir…" Was the only answer the duke received.
"Excused me?" the duke sounded less certain than he had when he made his teasing remark.
"My father's the Duke and the Earl. I am a knight. It's what I worked for and the only title I have earned, Your Grace," the young knight's face was impassive. Adrien detested their lack of respect to their future queen and was disappointed that her father would allow such commentary.
"Now, Adrien, that's no way to address some friendly teasing," his father chided. His words received snickers from the council, but the second Duke received no verbal response from the knight either, only a bow of the head.
Sir Adrien Athenase Agreste was appalled that the kingdom's most powerful men were all laughing at their princess and her betrothed. He knew they were all tired of the proceedings by now. The meeting had not been an easy one and the kingdom was not in the best condition, but this did not justify their words. He was irate at the council. They had made the princess withdraw from the council room as if she were a pariah, her entourage escorting her out.
He strode to the king’s side and bowed deeply, “Your Majesty, is the council meeting over for the day?”
The man seemed to start out of a daydream he had probably been in since his daughter had stopped talking. “Son?” he shook his head, clearing his mind and nearly dislodging the crown from his head. The young knight had to admit that the king looked overworked and overstressed. “Ah yes,” The king turned to the assembled councilmen as he declared, “I believe we are all overdue for a break. Don’t leave the capital yet, councilmen, we meet tomorrow at the same time.” The king stood and walked out of the council room with the young knight behind him, the squad of the King’s guard formed loosely around them.
“What do you think of what happened there?” The king didn’t look back at the council room when the door opened and let the remainder of the elite escape the confines of the chamber.
"The Princess is right, and they're a bunch of fools. The raiding on the tax collectors is caused by their own greediness. The assaults on the tax carriages increased only as the taxes themselves did. The Mice were almost unknown three years ago. Before then they only punished the lords themselves, your Majesty, the ones that boasted their wealth. But now? Now they attack even the crown carriages and it will continue as long as they continue to overtax. The Crown will not get a cent of the taxes if the lords maintain exorbitantly high tax rates." The knight did not stop himself from speaking his mind. He knew what the king wanted to hear.
The king nodded and stopped walking, "Will you check on my daughter before you resume patrols?"
"Of course, your Majesty." He knew when he was being dismissed. The knight crossed his arm across his torso, placing his closed fist over his heart, bowing his head. The king continued walking as Adrien stopped and the loose formation around the king left him behind. The knight suspected he knew where the princess had escaped to and headed towards the garden.