Chapter Text
“I refuse.”
Marinette watched her grandfather rub his temples in exasperation. On his own throne, towering over the king but shadowed by his power, even her father winced at her resolute tone and defiance. It didn’t make her any less inclined to stand her ground.
“Arranged marriages it’s how it’s always been,” the king felt the need to explain. Again. “They work!” They really didn’t.
“Yes, that’s why grandmother has seen half the world and has her bags packed at the moment.”
Her nonna didn’t seem to like her comment very much. “I do not have my bags packed,” she denied. On the throne to her right, Marinette saw her mother close her eyes and purse her lips in clear disagreement.
“Grandmother, since all this began, all you’ve been talking about is your next trip.”
“But she is here, isn’t she?” the king insisted, before his queen had any time to say anything for herself. Marinette’s eyes didn’t get a chance to linger on her nonna for more than a couple of seconds. It was enough to see her preparing to rebuff her comment. She was frowning, and her lips had started moving to say something, and then the king spoke. And it didn’t matter anymore, so she stopped.
“We’re also on the brink of a war right now, I don’t think this is how it’s supposed to work,” Marinette glared at her grandfather and took just a second to glance back at her grandmother. Her frown hadn’t been dismissed the way her words had been.
“Exactly, Marinette, no one here wants a war, so we are all doing our duties to prevent it. Should I remind you what a princess’s duty is? She marries into the enemy side and the war is over before it even begins. It’s how it’s done!”
She hated his tone, and the look in her grandma’s eyes. She hated the pressure, and the silence in the room, she hated the volume of their expectations. She hated that she knew everyone was thinking the same thing. She hated that that was so far from what she’d dreamed, and planned, and worked her way towards.
She hated the guilt and the resignation, and the anger, and the hate.
Marinette felt the pressure crushing her, every word she heard or said a push towards defeat. She tried looking at her parents, eyes moving from one side of the king and queen to the other. Quiet, but alert, with lips pursed and eyes so sad Marinette felt even more frantic.
In her own throne, furthest to the left, Bridgette kept her head tilted downwards, hands subtly fiddling with one another. Marinette chose to believe that she was thinking, that she was trying to keep calm in the way Marinette was failing.
She didn’t want to take into consideration that poisonous thought that kept trying to tell her she was admitting defeat and just refusing to meet her eyes.
But she still felt so alone, standing there. It didn’t matter how much she wanted to ignore her panic-induced thoughts. The emptiness of her own throne was glaring, an inescapable reminder, right in the corner of her eyes, that she was still nothing more than a subject of the king’s power.
“I have built a life on land, I cannot simply leave everything behind just to appease some greedy queen and her little prince,” she went on, too much at stake for her to swallow her anger and frustration and nod in compliance. “We have been over this, it was established this would be the absolute last resort, you promised me this would be the absolute last resort. There had been more possibilities you hadn’t discussed yet! This is what you told us before you left last week! No one said anything about marriage! No one’s said anything about marriage since everything became serious!”
“They are getting restless, the negotiations are not working the way we hoped. If we don’t do something now, we will have to deal with a full blown war. They offered us a solution on a silver platter, we are not going to refuse it.” Her grandfather’s bushy eyebrows were furrowed, his tail whipping left and right in agitation. She was getting on his nerves and she didn’t know how much longer it was until he, too, remembered he was also her king, not just her grandfather.
From the corner of her eye, she saw her father sitting up from his throne, swimming towards her. The weight of his hand didn’t feel comforting as it settled on her shoulder; it bore, instead, the weight of a decision that had already been made for her.
“Marinette, we tried,” he started, gentler and quieter than his father. “Last week’s round of negotiations left everyone on edge, and this was the only idea they wanted to consider. They will be here by the end of the week for the last round of negotiations. We need a way to make sure they see to their kingdom and leave ours alone, and I hate to say it, Marinette, you know I do,” he continued, looking at her almost pleadingly, asking her to just understand. “But tying our families together is the only way we can achieve this peacefully.”
Marinette understood to a certain degree. That was the problem. She knew this was the most logical step they could take and she knew she had to take it. It was so simple, really; the easiest way to ensure everyone other than her got what they wanted. She would become Marinette Graham de Vanily, giving her husband just enough influence over her home kingdom to have him - and his mother - under the illusion of power. She was the eldest, after all. Her hand in marriage came with prestige and “power”. And as she’d leave for her new husband’s kingdom and become his princess and future queen, her sister would do what she’d prepared for her entire life - ascend to the throne.
It was the easiest way. But she’d never been content with taking the easy way out, and she refused to give up the way her parents seemed to have done.
So she focused on not cracking her fingers, on not clenching her jaw, on not fleeing. She focused on keeping her tail swaying in the same collected manner she’d kept up so far. But she didn’t know if she managed to keep the sheer desperation she was feeling out of her eyes, and she didn’t know if she could get any more tense than she’d become.
According to Bridgette, they hadn’t tried as much as they wanted her to believe. According to her, every meeting resulted in more confident opponents and more conflicts among their party. Their grandfather, Bridgette had told her, refused to approach any option other than marriage with confidence, which made most other options seem unsafe or suspicious. And their own father could only resist him so much before it was obvious there were conflicts the English could so easily make use of instead of trying to find a consensus.
The king had made sure to put the option of marriage on the table ever since the first official negotiation, before they even talked to her about it. Then, their father hadn’t hesitated to jump in and start suggesting other possible solutions, and the promises they’d made when they came home seemed to prove empty in the end, at least in her grandfather's case.
And when only days before, at their last meeting, Queen Amelie brought back the option of marriage herself, their grandfather made use of his right as king to speak first and went along with a smug sort of pride that, after all, tradition still proved the best solution.
Their messenger had brought the news of the new direction of the negotiations a day before her grandfather, father and sister arrived home themselves. Bridgette had come straight to her, but she’d already talked to her mother and grandmother. Their reactions had left her clinging to threads of hope Bridgette barely managed to keep from breaking. As frustrated as they’d been for her, both her mother and grandmother tried to talk Marinette down from opposing as vehemently as she still did in the end. Bridgette had been the only one to say they had one final meeting they could use in their favour; she’d been the only one to tell her everything was not yet lost.
Marinette hoped she hadn’t changed her mind, because she was determined to keep trying and she needed her sister as an ally.
“I think we’ve made our points clear, Marinette. If you don’t have anything to add, we should end this discussion. Tom, Bridgette and I need to start planning the preparations for their representatives’ visit,” the king said, eyes never leaving her. His tail barely moved at all now, but his expression never relaxed. The queen remained silent by his side, a vision of what Marinette would become if she remained quiet: a foreign puppet put on an unstable throne to find balance.
“Let me find a solution,” she insisted, looking past her father and willing her eyes to reflect every bit of determination she had left in herself. “The decision is not final. Let me attend the meeting, let me find another.”
Her father tightened his grip on her shoulder but didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to watch the king with her.
The silence didn’t last for long, but it was enough to make Marinette’s heart race so much faster than it’d already been. She’d been pleading a case almost everyone wanted to believe lost, and she didn’t know if she was ready to hear the verdict.
“You will attend, but you are not allowed to say anything we will not have previously discussed. I will not have you say anything that could ruin this chance for us,” he decided, a finality in his voice that told Marinette he already knew he wouldn’t have her say anything.
She nodded, and hoped nothing betrayed the gears turning in her head.
They could tell her they’d keep her silent all they wanted, but if she were to start talking, they would have to let her finish.
All she needed was to know what to say to keep them listening.
Before she turned around to leave, she finally caught Bridgette’s eyes. Her eyes sparkled with the same confidence she felt herself.
She debated ignoring the quiet knock at her door. She’d just gotten to her room and wasn’t planning on sticking around for long - just enough to pack the jewellery she’d been working on.
Hesitating for a couple of seconds, Marinette left the bag with jewels on her bed and swam to the door, her grandmother patiently waiting for her on the other side. Neither of them said anything, so Marinette returned to her task. She felt her nonna watching as she inspected coral earrings and seashell bracelets.
She couldn’t focus on what she had to do. She couldn’t tell if everything was ready, she couldn’t even remember what the initial designs had been and which ones she’d finished. So she stopped trying when she realized she’d just shoved an unfinished necklace in her bag. She left it there and pretended to care about the next item she picked.
“I’ll be back in time, if that’s what you’re worried about.” It was useless, pretending she wasn’t going on land the moment her grandmother left her alone.
“I know you will.” Her breath hitched with words unsaid. Marinette wondered if it was for better or for worse that she hadn’t continued whatever it was that she’d wanted to say.
“These are beautiful,’ she settled for. “When did you make them?”
“Whenever I’m here.” Whenever she couldn’t sew, or design, or draw.
Marinette saw her pick up an unfinished bracelet she’d left on the bed. “You’ve been using the shells and crystals I brought you,” she smiled, fiddling with her handmade charms.
“Only for me and my friends, I don’t want to waste them.” She turned her head, showing her a hair ornament she’d made. Vibrant crystals caught in intricate knots made her braids stand out in spite of their simplicity. Her nonna always brought her more such crystals and shells from her trips, rare and colourful, some already polished into veritable jewels, some old, with the years and the salt fraying their edges. But they were her treasure, she couldn’t bear simply giving them to strangers.
“How can you make all these knots but not braid your hair in a style fit for a princess?”
Marinette laughed. “Braiding hair is hard. I’ll leave the complicated patterns to mother and Bridgette.” And Adrien, but she feared bringing him up would turn the conversation in a direction she didn’t like.
She shook her head and sighed. Then, she put the bracelet back down and looked at the one Marinette was holding. “You use a lot of human materials to make them.”
“Not on all. But yes, I like the charms. And I can’t really make chains, and beads, or thread, or rope... And imagine if I used things made here and then humans started wondering where they came from. So I buy those from them.”
“Do humans like them?” she asked and Marinette let herself smile.
“They do, but this is just a hobby, they’re not nearly as good as the clothes I make.”
“If they’re half as good as everything you’ve made for us, I can imagine.”
They were not, they were better than that. They were better than the shell bras and the canvases they used as blouses, and scarves, and shawls to wrap around their shoulders and tails. The fabrics, the designs, the techniques, it was so much more. She was thriving. The water had come to inhibit her and her creativity.
Her grandmother would not understand that. As much as she travelled, she stuck to the water, the human world just an interesting spectacle she watched from afar. It was sad that she still understood more than her grandfather would.
“I know it’s hard for you Marinette, I really understand what you’re going through,” she finally said, but Marinette knew that speech. She knew what she’d say next, she could predict the change in her tone, the gentleness laced with sadness, and a bitter resignation masked with sweet words.
“But you’ll get used to it. Think of it as a new adventure,” she tried, leaning forward and taking Marinette’s hands in hers. Their eyes met and Marinette struggled to see in her eyes if she truly believed what she was saying. “It’s a challenge. You’ve taken on the human world and conquered it, but we need you to conquer this other kingdom too.”
Marinette pried her hands away. “I thought that was the whole point, to avoid any kind of conquering.”
Her nonna laughed, “You’ll conquer their hearts.” But her smile didn’t last for long. “We need this, my love, you know why we need this. It’s been brewing for years. The English Channel?” she scoffed. “They won’t even acknowledge the name we gave to it. We need to put an end to this. Now. This queen is much too determined to get free reign over these waters, none of her predecessors have been just so.”
Marinette didn’t say anything. She didn’t want to hear how she’d get used to being a stranger’s wife and how she’d learn to love her new home as much as her previous one. She didn’t want to hear how important it was that she did it, and how much it would benefit everyone in the long run.
She wanted the warmth of Adrien’s embrace and his comforting words, she wanted Alya’s ideas and Nino’s funny quips. She wanted to go home. So she grabbed her miraculous little box, threw a set of recently renewed keys into her bag, and took her leave from her grandmother. She didn’t bother to search out the rest of her family to ask for permission. Bridgette was stuck with her father and grandfather anyway; waiting for them to finish would’ve only driven her crazy and taken away the time she could've been spending with Adrien instead. So she just swam towards the secluded part of the beach where she knew she could safely turn human.
It wasn’t far, but she felt like she couldn’t swim fast enough. When she finally peeked out of the water slowly, so, so carefully, to make sure the beach was indeed empty, the last of the red sunset light caressed her hair and the seagulls’ cries welcomed her back. Bag slung over a shoulder and box tightly clutched in a hand, she made her way as close to the beach as possible. Then, she opened the box and put on the earrings inside. The magic flowed through her body and the change felt like a sigh of relief.
She’d usually stop to squeeze some of the water out of the clothes she transformed back into, but she didn’t care about that at the moment. So, dripping wet, she made her way towards the beach house that her parents had Plagg buy when she’d made it clear that she’d fallen in love with the new world.
She’d been the only one.
Bridgette took after their parents - she preferred the underwater world, the people all closer to one another, the quieter places. And the moment it became clear Marinette was her opposite in that respect, the family agreed that Bridgette should be the one to inherit the title of queen when the time came. Their grandfather never quite liked the idea; he always insisted the first born had to be the one to inherit the crown, and the first born was not Bridgette. But not even he could deny the fact that, throughout their years of study, Bridgette hadn’t only proved she was better suited for the role, but that she also liked the challenges that came with it.
Marinette could still feel the giddiness that overcame both of them once the decision had been taken. Both would be free to spend as much time as they wanted in the worlds they preferred.
But that meant Bridgette came on land so, so little, all too happy to focus on her royal studies - so much more than Marinette had to deal with as a second in line; so many meetings to attend, so many lessons to master. Her father followed her example, and with him, her mother.
But Marinette loved the human world too much to not visit it as often as she could. She loved the people, the flowers, the trees; she loved the ever-changing sky, and the wind, and the snow. There were so many textures, colours, tastes, and smells, there were so many sounds. It was so much, but it never once became overwhelming for her. And she knew there was so much more she had yet to discover. So, one day, she asked to go to high school there. It was with a certain reluctance that her family made it possible. And for that, they used, once again, their royal gold and Plagg’s knowledge of the human world.
Sure, intensive royal lessons on the weekends were not her ideal way to spend her time - but that was a small price to pay.
Her mother used to come quite often to visit her once she started school there. She’d stay for days on end, at the beginning - just as curious as Marinette to see how that world worked. Grumpy as he was, Plagg taught them to cook and do the dishes, and the laundry, and most important of all, how to use the internet and use that to teach themselves instead of bothering him.
But Sabine’s curiosity didn’t last for too long.
By the end of high school, Marinette spent more time alone in the beach house than together with her family in the underwater palace. And by the end of her second year as a fashion student, half that time was spent in her boyfriend’s apartment.
It was him she wanted to call the moment she entered the house, but the rising tensions between their Kingdom and the Southern English one had kept her in the palace for longer than she’d expected the last time she’d been home. The mobile phone she kept in the house was disappointingly dead.
Her soaking dress clung to her and left a trail of droplets on the hardwood floor that she’d have to take care of later, but she didn’t bother to change out of it before she plugged the phone in. And she didn’t waste any more time waiting than she needed to get the phone to a safe 5%. Adrien picked up on the second ring.
“M’lady!” he said instead of a greeting. “I was starting to get worried! Is everything ok?”
She huffed, lips stretching into a bitter smile. "I’m ok but it’s a long story. Can you come get me?”
“I’ll be there in twenty. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
She could have gone to his apartment herself, but it was getting dark and it would’ve taken her so much longer than it took him to come in his car. Though even that seemed too much for Marinette as she waited for him.
The charger was the only thing that kept her from pacing the entire house as she busied herself answering Alya’s and Nino’s texts. It wasn’t unusual for her to go silent for a day or two, they knew her predicament well enough - especially with the growing tensions and her duties as part of the royal family, but almost four entire days was too much even for her.
She would’ve come sooner if the messengers’ news hadn’t left her a ball of anxiety and dread.
When the bell rang, she almost ran to the door. Adrien was right there, car keys in hand and a tentative smile on his face. She didn’t even wait until he was inside to sneak her arms around his waist and lean against his chest. He buried his nose in the crook of her neck and his lips tickled her when he spoke.
“What happened, princess?”
She tightened her arms around him. “They want to go with it.”
He tried to pull back but she didn’t let him. Instead, she clung to his chest. She could hear his heart beating faster than it did moments before. She wondered if he could tell how unsteady her own was.
“With the marriage?” he asked, but they both knew that was what she’d meant. She’d told him it was a possibility, he’d told her it wouldn’t get that far. She nodded, not daring to let him go.
“It’s not final yet, but they believe it’s the safest option.”
This time she didn’t resist when he pulled free just enough to be able to look at her. His eyes were wide, the light glinting in them in all the wrong ways. She didn’t know how to wipe that look off his face, she didn’t know how to reassure him she loved him with all her heart. So she settled for telling him exactly that and hoping he still believed her.
He pulled her back into the tightest hug in response.
“We’re not letting that happen.”
She nodded. They went inside so she could get her phone and bag. She already had enough clothes and pajamas at Adrien’s.
“We need some really good ideas. Not even mom and dad had anything to say today.”
They’d been her fiercest allies until then, the perfect advocates for why marriages should only happen out of love, not duty. Her father had never just given in to the king’s marriage solution without at least saying that should not be their go to. He had, after all, married out of love himself, not duty. But knowing him, it was both the easiest and hardest thing to understand that he took his role as protector of his people seriously. And Marinette understood that was the safest solution to guarantee everyone stayed protected, but she didn’t have to like it. Or go down without a fight.
“When do you have to be back?”
“The English delegation will be here in a couple of days. I got permission to attend their meetings, I’ll have to return soon and check if they’re there so I’m ready, but we have at least two full days.” She wandered through the living room, feeling a little lost. She didn’t know what she was looking for, and she couldn’t focus on finding out. She felt frantic as she continued, “I might get to talk to my parents again if I go back early enough. Mom might be on my side. I’m pretty sure Bridgette still is. But we need some concrete arguments, I can’t just go in there and say ’no’ and expect them to listen.”
She knew she was spiralling. But that didn’t help much. Adrien did, though. He came in front of her and caught her hands in his.
“Hey. Hey, look at me,” he started. “Just look at me, forget everything else for a second. We’ll work this out, ok? I’m not letting you be forced into anything you don’t want to.” He laced their fingers together in a promise to be there for her, and she squeezed his hand just enough so he knew she understood and loved him all the more for it. She didn’t know how he managed to stay so calm and patient, but it was that immeasurable trust he had in them that gave her all the determination in the world to fight for their relationship.
“We have enough time to come up with something solid,” he continued. “Have you talked to Alya and Nino yet?”
“Just told them I’m back.”
“We'll meet with them tomorrow. Now come on, I have some fantastic Chinese takeout at home.”
She looked at him with squinted eyes.
“You ordered for two again, didn’t you?”
“Can you blame me for hoping you’d come? Mom taught me to be a gentleman, I can't leave you to starve. Plus, it did us good, didn’t it?”
“What did you order yesterday?”
“Pizza. Ate the second one today for lunch,” he said smugly, like he was the smartest man on earth. Which, she couldn’t really disagree with.
“Damn, so close. We’re having pizza tomorrow too.”
“As you wish,” he smiled, and she melted into his arms again. But just for a second. Then, they finally left the beach house.
The sky had darkened to a soothing purple but people still milled on the beach. She held Adrien’s hand as they walked on the sand towards the parking lot where he had his car, and they didn’t hurry.
They were just close enough to the sea to hear the crashing waves and feel the breeze.
Marinette was looking at her feet as they walked, every now and then catching the lights on the beach glimmering. The warm July air made the atmosphere pleasant, but it could’ve been freezing for all she cared. The company was all that mattered.
It helped calm her a bit, it made it easier to breathe.
The drive helped just as much. It didn’t matter how many times she saw them, the lights of the city never failed to distract her. Her thoughts followed their luminous trails instead of wandering too far. Head leaning on the door’s window, she watched them pass by in a blur of reds and yellows.
Alya and Nino were at Adrien’s apartment at eleven on the dot. They were rarely that punctual; it spoke volumes of how much they cared about their friend. And about how little she’d managed to tell them on the phone the day before.
Adrien was on the phone with his mom, and Marinette still had her morning coffee in hand when she opened the door for the two. She barely avoided spilling it all over Alya as she jumped to hug her. Nino was happy to assist by taking her mug and leaving them to hug in peace.
“So I get we’re having a situation,” Alya said, letting Marinette go.
“But we’re dealing with it or I’ll be damned. Literally, Alya, I’m done for if we don’t find a solution.”
“What did they say when they returned this time?”
Marinette had never liked lying to them, and keeping such a significant part of her life a secret felt wrong. She’d tried. For three years, at the beginning of high school. But people can go only so long with half baked excuses and long periods of absence. So, in the end, she cracked and told them everything, and after the initial amazement at having both a mermaid and a literal princess as their friend, things went back to relative normalcy. It brought them all so much closer, however, and even though they all chose different majors and went days without seeing each other sometimes, they were still thick as thieves.
And Marinette knew their little group could come with the best ideas. So now, it was time they put their cleverness to test.
She began explaining the latest twists and turns of their situation. Finishing his phone call only moments after she started, Adrien took his place on the couch near Marinette, and listened just as intently as Alya and Nino. He didn't seem to care he'd already been told everything the night before, as he played with her hair and she basked in his warmth.
It wasn’t quite that easy.
And nothing proved quite easy at all. However much they tried, however much they brainstormed, it all came down to one thing: Marinette also wanted her people to be safe.
“What if we elope, though,” asked Adrien, sometime after they’d already talked themselves in enough circles. “If we’re married, they can’t unmarry us.”
She looked at him like he’d sprouted another head. “This is not how you’re proposing to me.” She had her priorities straight all right.
“That… that is not the most important thing now,” said Nino, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow. Alya just snorted.
Marinette rolled her eyes. “It is, I want some more emotion put into it.”
She wanted to continue, but Adrien interrupted her. Leaning towards her, he sneaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She gave a yelp, but didn’t protest the chance to snuggle into his side. “Believe me, there’s enough love in there to go against two whole kingdoms,” he chuckled, his breath tickling her ear. She didn't resists the temptation to turn her head and give him a quick peck. He was all too happy to reciprocate.
“When we marry, we’re doing it because we want to, not because we have to.”
She turned her head back to Alya and Nino and picked up her idea from where she’d left off.
“My point was, we can’t just elope. We don’t know how they’ll react, but by the looks of it, their reaction wouldn’t be pretty. They’ve already started talking about the idea, we can’t just tell them it’s not on the table anymore. We need to test the waters first. And find something to offer them that's better than marriage.”
Alya nodded, a pensive expression on her face. “The last thing we need is to insult them and do more bad than good,” she started. “But I don’t understand one thing. There must be some kind of laws regarding these arranged marriages. You said your grandparents had an arranged marriage too, right?”
“Yep, nonna’s from an Italian kingdom.”
“Ok, so there’s at least some kind of international agreement as far as these unions are concerned.”
“Yes and no,” Marinette tried to answer, hesitating. “It is international, but from what I know, you set the terms depending on what you need. The basic idea, though, is that it opens a lot of gates between the two kingdoms. Trades, magic, knowledge, you even get a say in political stuff. The actual ruler and the main royal family can veto anything you say, but you do get the chance to say something and to be listened to. My grandparents married to secure a trade alliance, for instance. We weren’t doing great at the time and needed something like that. It was a whole thing but basically, nonna was from one of the most important Italian kingdoms, in the Gulf of Venice, and through them, grandpa got to get our kingdom in some other trade alliances with Spain, Portugal and Southern France.
“And Nonna took care of these alliances, ‘cause she already knew how her Kingdom dealt with everything. So she used these opportunities to travel. And then she kept travelling. And I swear to God, from what everyone told me, no one cared! She was doing her job, grandfather was doing his job, and that’s all there was to it, they barely knew what the other was doing as long as everything went smoothly!”
“Are there contracts and stuff like that?”
“It’s literally written in stone. Since, you know, no paper underwater and all that. But there’s also a really huge audience at the wedding, and the whole thing is a huge event. Everything has to be perfect, everyone has to know their place, and the news has to be spread everywhere.”
“But, laws? Actual laws?” Alya insisted.
Marinette shook her head, shoulders slumped. “I really don’t know. Dad was really not a fan of this topic so I never learned much about it. He always said when he’d be king, there’d be no such thing as arranged marriages in Northern France.”
“That aged like milk,” Nino scoffed and Marinette almost smiled.
“In his defense, matters were nowhere near as bad with the English as they are now.”
“When is he supposed to get the crown, though? No way to speed up that process?”
“He was supposed to inherit the throne last year. But the other Kingdom had started pushing too many of our buttons. The period of instability that comes with a new ruler was the last thing we needed at the time, and grandpa was still going strong.”
“Wow, talk about bad luck…” Alya frowned.
“But that wouldn’t have helped much, I think. Bridgette said it happened before, and it’s either an alliance now, or a war later. And they have yet to accept any of our terms on any kind of alliance.”
“What do they actually want?” asked Nino, genuinely confused. She wished she could give him a clear answer, but for that, she needed one herself.
“From what I gather, control over the whole Channel. Access to all trade routes and all that stuff, but Bridgette suspects it has something to do with our magic too.”
“It’s not the same for all merfolk?”
“I mean, the magic you have is only as good as those who do it, right? And not many can do magic in the first place. We lucked out though, we have both Tikki and Plagg. Remember when I told you about my earrings?”
“How they let you switch from mermaid to human and the other way round?”
“Yep. Like, transformation has always existed in some form or another, I’m pretty sure every kingdom has some way to turn mermaids into humans and the other way round, but, from what I know, it’s always irreversible, you know? Like, you wanted legs? Welp, you better know how to use them, 'cause you ain't seeing your tail back. Well, these two basically combined Tikki’s mermaid magic with Plagg’s human one. Don’t ask me the details, I literally have no idea how all of this actually works, but it works really well. And, apparently, it’s pretty hard to find human magic users… or, like, wizards that vibe with human energies or whatever.”
“You don’t say. Wish I knew one. Man, to have magic this close to you and not study the hell out of it,” Adrien whistled and shook his head at her. Marinette jabbed him with an elbow.
“Shut up, it was either magic or high school, would you really have preferred I went with the magic?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, daring him to say yes.
He raised his hands in surrender so fast, the one that’d been around her waist got caught in a strand of her hair. His expression turned sheepish as she glared at him. “Sorry, princess, but really, nope, can’t be happier you didn’t choose the magic part.”
“Plus,” she continued, still pouting a little, “I tried once. Believe me, the magic did not like me. Or Bridgette.”
“But why is their magic relevant to the queen? Why don’t they just give it to her?” Alya asked, getting her on the right track again.
“It’s tied to this land. Its energy or something. Tikki tried to explain it to me once and I forgot the second she stopped. Like, you might think it’s easy, but I swear I got more from Mendeleiev’s classes.”
“That bad?” Nino asked, flinching backwards and grimacing. He’d had as much trouble in those classes as her.
“Worse. But anyway, the general idea is, if I go too far, the magic stops working and I get my tail back. And according to Tikki and Plagg, the English side of the Channel is too far. It’s still a work in progress, other kingdoms only know about it because they need as much knowledge of magic as possible, but so far, there’s only one other Kingdom that has a royal wizard keeping in touch with a human one, and it’s in Portugal. They’re the most helpful but it’s taking really long. So nope, no way to just share the magic with the English yet. Plus, we don’t know anything for sure, not why she wants the power, not why she’d want the magic, not how Félix feels about all this stuff…”
“And how do we find out?” asked Adrien.
She considered her options for a second, but there was only one promising answer.
“I think I’ll get Bridgette to make us a visit.”