The People's Prince - A Robin Hood AU

Fateful Days

Adriend's POV... Eight Years Ago

Today was the day. I'm finally old enough to attend the anual summer festival in the kingdom square! Mama had dressed me up real nice in a pantsuit and frilly collar. I didn't like it much but she said I had to wear it, and it made her smile, so I agreed to the itchy clothes.

I held her hand tightly the entire carriage ride. She told me how much fun it would be and rubbed my back to ease my nerves. Father even looked happy in the seat across from us. He wasn't holding any papers or telling anyone what to do.

The horses stopped and I jumped up from my place, tugging at my mothers arm. I wanted to investigate every scent and sound coming from outside.

"Hold on my love" my mother spoke gently, returning me to her side. She brushed my bangs away from my face and smiled, holding my cheek in her hand. "Now, we must greet our people, so remember to smile and wave before playing."

I nodded vigorously in response, bouncing in my place. My mother rose and my father took position beside her before the carriage door was opened and a slew of bright light and cheers entered. I clung to my mothers side as we stepped out, my eyes taking a moment to adjust. A massive crowed surrounded our party, the guards keeping the people at a distance. I wanted to hide behind my mother, in the loose cloth of her dress skirt, but a prince should meet his people, that's what mama always says.

Present Day

My mind began to tick as the first inhale of awakness entered my lungs. A quiet groan and the folding of my arm over my eyes was my first response to the morning's light. I had almost drifted back into my dreams when a sudden crashing of hinges and banging of wood maked my whole being shoot up to find the cause of the sudden noise. Past the foot of my bed, the double doors that lead into my room had been kicked open, the woman responsible lowered her leg back to the ground.

"Morning sleeping beauty!" She yelled in at me, a smirk of a grin layed out across her face.

"You're going to break something one of these times." I sighed out, grabbing my chest to reassure my heart it was safe to slow.

Introducing Alya Cèsaire, my personal maid, best friend, and walking heart attack. She made her way to my bedside and sat next to me, giving me a much different look than she wore just a moment ago. It read sympathy and concern, a rare sight of her.

"Are you ready for today?" The red head asked as she rested her cheek against my shoulder, looking up to scan my expression. I noded, silently, my jaw clenching up just a bit.

Today is my 18th birthday. There is to be a party, a ceremony, and a festival in the city. It's also the anniversary of my mothers assasination, but there will be no grieving for her, only celebration for me. The thought itself makes my stomach turn. How could everyone forget about her? How could my father throw a festival for me on the same day she was murdered at one? The worst part is that I'll have to attend the festival in the square tonight, knowing she would have wanted me to.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Alya scooped my hand up and gripped it between her own. "Come on," she smiled again. As she stood the maid brought me to my feet. "The kitchen made you a special breakfast!" It took a moment but a smile found it's way to my lips, only then did Alya release me and give my hair a rustle. "I'll be waiting in the dining room." She spoke as she moved, opening my wardrobe and pulling out a suitable match of silk shirt and black pants.

"Don't take too long or I'll eat your breakfast for you." The red head grinned playfully as she presented the clothing to me in an outstretched hand.

"It'll be your head on my plate if you do that!" I gave her a bit of a playful glare that made Alya sputter out a laugh.

"Whatever you say, your gentleness." I could hear her continue to laugh under her breath as she exited my chambers.

After dressing I headed down to the dinning area where a plate of fluffy pancakes awaied me, decorated with chocolate and fruit in the shape of a cat. I couldn't help but smile, my morbid thoughts for the day melting away as I took a seat. My attention was drawn away from the artistic plate by the sound of the kitchen door flapping shut and one Marinette Dupain-Cheing entering the room.

Marinette had grown up in the castle just like me, her parents being my family's personal pastry chefs. We played as children and I'd always enjoyed her company, but we grew very close after my mothers passing. She was the only person I could really talk to, the only one who treated me as Adrien instead of as the prince.

Her hand sat atop a container of heated syrup and her pink polkadoted apron was decorated in flour like the patches of a dalmatian. She gave me a warm smile and greeting. "Good morning your highness." She spoke meekly, holding the clear kettle out in front of her body. "Syrup?" The blunette asked as she approached. I gave a vigorous nod then watched as the warm maple goo flooded and melted away the chocolate face of cat like design. I practically had to refrain myself from drooling as I waited for the slow pour to conclude.

The moment the pot was turned upright again I dug into my breakfast, cutting away the ears and filling my mouth too full to properly chew. It wasn't until the girl beside me let out a chuckle that I had even realized syrup running down my mouth. I felt a slight warming in my cheeks as I swallowed down my food then patted my lips clean with a cloth napkin.

"It's delicious." I smiled to her, embarrassment still evident in my expression.

"I'm glad." She responded with a quiet giggle.

I cleared my throat and fixed my posture before daring to look her in the eye. "Is Alya down?" I asked as I cut another, more proportional bite out of the pancakes.

"I believe miss Cèsaire is making herself an omelet with the help of Chef Nino." Marinette said as she placed the remaining syrup on the table beside my plate.

"Heavens knows she couldn't do it on her own." I replied with a sly grin, making both myself and Marinette laugh.

As if on cue to ruin any fun, the sound of clicking heals silenced us both. My father's advisor, Nathalie, entered the room, stopping just a few feet from me. Her posture straight and hands folded neatly in front of herself, she spoke, "Prince Adrien, your father has requested your presence in his study." Her voice was flat and shallow, a cruel reminder of my true life. I gave a nod and rose from my place without a word.

"Don't worry," Marinette whispered beside me, "I'll keep your breakfast warm." With that reassurance, I followed Nathalie to my fathers study.