The Love of a Cat
นักเขียน:© WebNovel
บท 1: 1. Prologue
Marinette pulled her cloak closer in a vain attempt to block the biting chill of the wind. She clutched the empty bread basket, holding it tightly as she picked up her pace. Her deliveries were done, thankfully. She was half frozen and ready to get home.
Another blast of icy air brought a waft of smoke with it. Marinette crinkled her nose against the thick smell. She was a baker's daughter; she was used to the smell of fire and flames, but the stench of war was not something she ever wanted to grow accustomed to.
No one knew the full extent of why the war began. Rumors claimed that a king of the kingdom north of their own wanted to take over their land. Then the rumors deviated into a million different speculations as to why. But the why didn't matter. What mattered was that they were at war, sad as that was.
The wind picked up, howling as it tore through the streets. It sent Marinette shivering, tugging her cloak tighter. That chilling wind could only mean an oncoming storm. Snow, likely, considering winter was right around the corner.
A hoarse cough filled the air, calling the young woman's attention. Marinette turned to the sound, spying the village cripple sitting huddled in an alley. He was a kind man, a helpful man, just not one that could do hard labor. His worn-thin jacket was pressed against his small frame, as if that could block out the cold.
Marinette was always known for her kind heart, and she couldn't help her urge to do something. She fingered her cloak before taking it off, doing her best to refrain from shivering in the process, and walked over to the gray-haired man. "Mister Fu."
The small man looked up to her, and his smile grew wide enough to reach his eyes. "Miss Marinette. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
With a smile, she offered the cloak to him. "Here. It's far too cold out right now."
Mister Fu frowned. "But what about you?"
"I'll be all right. I was on my way home, and I have another cloak." She lied, but she had enough money to go buy the fabric for another. Mister Fu had nothing. The choice was simple.
He smiled appreciatively before taking the cloak. "Miss, you have done so very much for me. You and your family over time."
"You have pulled your fair share."
He shook his head. "No, I don't believe I have. You have given me more bread than is worth my services."
"But you can't put a price on saving my papa's life," she countered.
Mister Fu smiled then pulled the cloak around himself. "I know very well you do not have a cloak at home nor is your house very close. You have given me more than I have given to you. So please, allow me to even my debt."
"Really, there's no need."
"Yes, Miss Marinette," he interrupted. "There very much is." With that, he pulled a small octagonal box out of his trousers' pocket and presented it to her.
Marinette looked at the pretty box, black with ornate red decoration, before pushing it back to him. "Mister Fu, I cannot take that."
He simply put the box into her hand and closed her fingers around it. "Yes, you can. I insist. You above everyone else in the village deserve this. A gift for a gift," he said, motioning to the box, then her cloak.
"But my cloak isn't even worth—"
"Marinette."
His eyes were firm, his grasp on her hands steady. And Marinette realized that he was not going to let her refuse. "All right," she relented. "If you insist. Thank you."
"No," he said, pulling the cloak around him tighter. "Thank you."
She nodded, said her goodbye, then began on her way again. But not before a blast of chilling air blew straight past her winter shirt and to her skin. No matter how hard she tried to fight it, it sent her shivering. She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her arms as gooseflesh rose up on her skin. Her teeth began chattering, but she clenched her jaw shut to prevent it. She wished she had her cloak, but shook her thoughts away. She had a home. Mister Fu did not. He needed that cloak far more than she did.
The sound of horse hooves drummed up behind her. She slid farther over on the pathway out of habit, waiting for the rider to pass by. Instead, the rider slowed beside her. "Miss?"
She looked up to see a young man with gold hair and a kind smile tugging his own cloak off to extend to her.
It took her likely far too long to realize who this man was.
"Your royal highness." Immediately, she dipped to curtsy.
"No, no. Please, miss, none of that." He slid off his now-still horse, touching the ground as the girl looked up to him.
He held out his hand, nervousness now on his face instead of the smile. "Please, rise, miss."
She did as asked, not daring to touch him despite his extended hand.
His smile returning, he extended the cloak to her. "Here. As a replacement for the one you gave the old man."
She shook her head. "No, your highness. I couldn't possibly—"
"Please," he said, not taking no for an answer as he slipped the dark cloak over her shoulders. "I insist."
Marinette was at a complete loss for words as she felt the heavy fabric drape over her shoulders.
"I like repaying kindness when I see it," was all he said.
"Then please," she said, grabbing at the cloak from her shoulders, "Give this to Mister Fu. It's far warmer than mine. He saved my father once, so—"
"Then I will take care of him," the prince promised, sliding the cloak back up over her and holding it closed so she couldn't take it off. "Keep this. You are shivering and it's far too cold for anyone, nevertheless a lovely young lady, to be out without a cloak."
She blushed, all the while chastising herself for doing so. Her eyes sank to the ground because she couldn't keep looking at his gorgeous green eyes that were so gentle and caring. "Then I thank you so very much for your kindness, your highness. I don't deserve it."
"On the contrary. I very much believe you do." He smiled—not that she saw—and let his hands fall away. She raised her head only to see him mounting his white steed. "Good day, miss…" he trailed off, searching for her name.
"Marinette. Marinette Dupain."
"Marinette." She tried to stay steady at the reverent way he said her name, but she, admittedly, got a bit weak-kneed. "Pleasure to meet you. But for now, I must bid you good day."
"The pleasure has been mine, your highness."
With a nod and a smile that would forever burn its way into her memory, he left back down the road.
She further adjusted the long cloak around her, feeling warm from head to toe, but how much of that was the cloak and how much of that was her being an infatuated young girl was difficult to discern. She pulled the cloak upwards so that the hem of the wonderfully thick material didn't touch the ground. She'd surely treasure it for as long as it lasted, and that meant ensuring she took care that it didn't rub against the ground. After all, she had just been gifted by none other than the crown prince.
Giggling giddily, she forced herself to walk home faster. Oh, she felt so stupid, but it seemed every rumor that she ever heard about his looks were true. He was so handsome, and he happened to have a kind and sincere heart. Surely, no one could blame her for her infatuation.
Surely not.
…
Prince Adrien snuck one last glance at the pretty young lady walking down the road. Such a kind heart, refusing the gift of a prince so that he might give it to a homeless man. He admired that; he really did.
He felt the cold nip at him now that he didn't have his cloak, but he saw the way she was shivering. He had another one to replace it and could buy ten more later. It was hardly a loss for him. Not like hers had been.
True selflessness. He hadn't seen that in far too long.
He stopped his horse by the man who was now wrapped in her cloak. Adrien dismounted his horse, looking down to the man that was smiling up at him.
"That was a very generous thing for you to do to."
"She was the generous one," Adrien returned.
The man chuckled. "She very much is. Her and her family."
Fondly, he glanced down the road, but she was only a speck in the distance now. "She mentioned that you did something to for her father."
"Ah, yes. Mr. Dupain. Very generous man. Would offer me a bit of work in his bakery in exchange for some bread. He grew very ill two years ago. Broke his arm and grew sick because the town doctor didn't set it properly. I know healing very well and was able to help them in return for what they've done for me."
Adrien frowned. "If you are skilled as you let on, then how can you not find work?"
The man pulled out his cane, but Adrien was quicker and helped the man stand up. He grinned in thanks before pointing to the leg that was twisted at an awkward angle. "I was a skilled healer, but people today have bitter hearts. They seem to forget that a healer occasionally needs a healer too."
Adrien looked down at the man's leg, wondering just how he could—
"Now, I know what you're thinking, young man. I appreciate you thinking of a job for me, but I know I could find something near the battlefield up north. That is where you and your squadron are headed, no?" The man used his cane to gesture at the boarding house across the street.
Adrien didn't turn. "Yes. We are going to assist our troops."
The man nodded. "Then you are going to need all the luck you can get. It is brutal up there. The man held out a little box for him. Black, octagonal, red design painted on top. "In return for your kindness to Marinette."
"Sir, I will not take anything from you."
The man's smile widened. "Then I tell you what. In exchange for some coins so that I may buy a trip back to the southern part of the kingdom, where I was born and raised as a boy, I will give you this box and the lucky charm inside of it. Would that be agreeable?"
"I'll give you the coin to do so. I will not take—"
"And I will not take your coin without knowing I did something for you. Take this. For luck."
Adrien looked at the box, taking it in exchange for far more than it was worth. The man seemed to know that, but thankfully didn't question the determined look of the prince. "Thank you, young man. You are a fine prince, and will turn into a good king. And I do not say that because of what you gave me, but because of the heart behind it. You are deserving of your lucky charm." The man's eyes seemed to twinkle in amusement.
"Thank you, sir. I'm honored at your praise."
"I wish you the best of luck on the battle field. It wouldn't do if your kingdom lost such a fine prince." The man stroked his little beard. "By the way, do you know why we are at war?"
The prince shook his head. "Not for certain, but I think the king believes that we have something that belongs to him. He's willing to take us over to find these items."
The man nodded solemnly. "Then I hope for your sake that he never gets his hands on them, no matter how the war turns out."
"I hope the war gets called off before then."
"Yes, I hope so, too. Now, you best get back to your squadron. They seem impatient for you to return."
Adrien nodded. "Thank you, sir. I wish you a good day and safe travels."
"You will need it more than I," he returned.
Adrien didn't doubt that. With a nod, Adrien left back to his group.
"What took you?" One of his men asked.
"I was busy attending to my duties as a prince," Adrien answered curtly.
"Helping old men?" another man jabbed.
"The pretty lady I could see," said yet another, "make anyone a good night."
The approving whoops in the group were quickly silenced by an angry prince.
"Next man to make a crass comment like that will be stripped of his knighthood and drafted to the front line as a solider. Am I clear?"
The silence was overwhelming.
"Good. Now mount up and move out."
The men did as asked before falling in line behind the prince. The chatter among them was quiet and exclusive, not that Adrien minded. He was barely acquaintances with these men his father had gathered. Furthermore, he was used to being left out, and considering what the men were likely chattering about, he almost preferred being left alone.
For not the first time, he wished Nino could have accompanied him, but Adrien refused to let him tag along with his broken leg. Nino could heal and join them when he was ready.
In his silence leading the troop, Adrien pulled out the little box gifted to him. His lucky charm. Opening it, his eyes widened at the brilliant black metal ring embedded with emerald chips.
It seemed that he paid what fine jewelry like this was worth.
He slipped it on his finger, finding it happened to fit perfectly. Maybe it would be lucky, or maybe it was a just a myth. Either way, considering the war they were riding into, Adrien would take all the luck he could get.
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