Chapitre six

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Author stuff cont'd.: I hate the weather and the fact that I have allergies. The temperatures keep fluctuating, which is messing with my body, and I've had headaches the past couple of days.

It's springtime here, which is bad enough as is. Like, can we not go between snow one day and "Oh, hey, I can wear shorts"? My body can't handle it.

Edit: Updated the word "sheriff" for the correct "vicomte," which was used during the historical time period for a man who served as sheriff in a town.

Chapitre six

Healing

Ten days came and went with no sign of Chat Noir, and her butt had long since grown numb from consistently sitting for the lack of being able to properly walk anywhere for more than a short distance. Getting down and up the stairs had been more than enough of an adventure.

The vicomte questioned her the second night. She acted like a shy and fluttery little rabbit, staring up at him with wide eyes that she hoped managed to convince him she hadn't been out in the woods when the guards had heard the noise. ("I was already at the old mill," she had said in a soft voice. "I heard some shouts, but I thought it was all part of a bad dream.") He believed her, of course. She had never been so terrified or exhilarated than after he'd left.

She hated liars and lying, but it was necessary. Her father's life was on the line.

Brother Fu was summoned to check on her ankle. He didn't charge much beyond some fresh bread and water in exchange for some herbs for teas to help with the pain. Marinette didn't look forward to his visits. He was kind and gentle, and he lifted her spirits. But he also seemed to know the truth – though he did not press the issue.

Nathaniel and Alya continued to assist her mother in the mornings, and Max or his father delivered the flour when they could. She hadn't heard or seen any of the children to know if they were getting any food – she hoped someone within the village was kind enough to take up the task while she was unable.

With all the time she sat around, she had plenty of time to think – most of the time it was spent worrying over her father, wondering if Chat Noir would help, and new cheese recipes. The second day she'd finished making a wheel with dandelion and roasted walnuts – brought to her by Alya, though when she had the time to gather them, Marinette hadn't the faintest.

She wasn't quite sure what to do with that particular wheel, but she thought that since she wasn't sure how much longer she had to stay off her foot, it was best to find an activity she could do sitting down. Like, sewing.

Marinette longed to feel soft fabric between her fingers while she stitched together something new for someone to wear – possibly herself. It'd been a long time since she made herself a new dress or smock.

And she knew the village's best tailor had the finest collection of fabrics – and a distinct fondness for cheeses.

It didn't take much to convince Nathaniel to help her to the tailor's and back again. He looked ready to fall over – making her feel bad for even asking – but he easily helped her along. He offered to carry the satchel with the cheese in it, but she declined.

"Have you heard anything?" she said. "About... well, you know?"

"Not a thing," he said. "I've been quite busy."

She flushed.

"Sorry about that. Look, you can go on home after we get there. I can always ask his wife or one of the apprentices to help me get back home."

"I'd hate to just abandon you there."

"I'll be fine. I'm in Rochers. What bad thing could happen to me here?"

Noblesse ObligeDove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora