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Chapter 1

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I sighed, twirling the ends of my pigtails. I was laying on my bed, counting the number of spots the ladybugs had on my room wallpaper. Pointless. How pointless. Being raised royalty, there were many things I had despised - absolutely despised - about how I was treated. Everyone around me acted stiff, their words carefully chosen before spoken.

I wasn't allowed to go out, like every other kid.

"You aren't every other kid, Marinette. You're the future Queen of France!"

I wasn't allowed to make friends.

"They'll just use you for your power and money!"

I understood them. I really did. I loved my parents with all my heart and they loved me too. But sometimes they were too stern for their own good. The door creaked open, revealing my personal maid, Alya Cesaire.

She was currently wearing her uniform. Of course, I had designed it myself, which didn't necessarily mean I was exactly proud of the fact that she had to wear an actual maid outfit. To me, it was too revealing. She had often told me how chilly it had gotten over the past few months, seeing as how it was October now. I had considered updating it, but my parents had argued that to what possible extent could I make it warmer?

They had a good point. The least I could do was change the material, but it wasn't like I could give it long sleeves, or any of the such. Alya also wasn't allowed to wear anything over it, which I found plainly ridiculous. Even now, I was bundled up in a grey coat, with fleece lining the insides, providing the heat for me to survive the harsh weather. Since the palace was so big, the heating would cost a lot, so Maman and Papa made it so that the dining room, our bedrooms, the servant's quarters, and the kitchen would be heated only.

Alya's outfit consisted of the cliche head piece with lace on the top ends of it. The dress she was wearing had puffy sleeves that kind of represented a cream puff. The top half of her dress kind of represented a male suit, except the middle part was white, with the sides black, connected by black strings. The bottom half was just a simple and short black skirt. Her hair was tied back into a half up half down straight which was secured with a large white bow.

She was the loudest person in the palace. And that's what I loved about her. She would voice her opinions without a thought, make me laugh in the most unmannerly way possible, and she understood me.

People like that were very hard to come by these days. Especially when your name started with a Princess and ended with a 'of France.' There happened to be like a bajillion people in the world. And I just had to be the person that got produced as a result of some hormones that belonged to Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng.

Alya peeked her head in and called out softly, "Mari, it's dinner time. Your parents are getting quite upset that you're late for dinner. You know how they treat  'family time!' Hurry up! They're getting kind of impatient, y'know. Like, cue the tapping feet of your dad! Also, your uncle arrived, so he'll be joining you guys tonight!"

I sighed, slipping on my black ballet shoes in replacement for my warm slippers, "Alright, thanks Alya. Tell them I'm coming right down." I flashed her a smile before she left. I trailed behind her descending the staircase and as I entered the dining room. (ha! More like a ballroom) I bowed to my parents before entering. I stood near my seat.

The staircase had royal red carpet with golden flourishes and the texture was squishy, comfy, and soft. It was thick, too. So whenever you placed your feet on it, you would feel it sink into the ground a few inches. The dining room held a chandelier at the middle of the table. The table was approximately 13 Marinettes long and 2 Marinettes wide. So in other terms, it was huge.