The Heart's Truth

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for ML Staff Appreciation Week: Day Four

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Chapter Five

Muted yellows and shining golds showed the entire kingdom's mourning of Queen Ankhesenamun's passing a week prior, when storm clouds hid the sun from view and rain turned the scratchy sand to sticky mud. The bright color bathed the already-colorful stands of fragrant foods and beaded treasures in a way that almost made Marineith feel like she was walking through clouds, as if the marketplace had transcended the tangible to the ethereal. Clothes the color of sand and jewels the color of the midday sun twinkled and drew the eye, visible everywhere in the marketplace Marineith and Aria walked through.

Their own clothes were no exception; the day after the Queen died, Marineith discovered a vibrant yellow dress placed delicately on the edge of her bed, probably put there while she slept by one of Merit Ptah's servants. Marineith had picked up the garb carefully, like she was lifting something delicate and fragile, and had felt a wave of something overwhelming flow over her as she took in the yellow hues of the fabric. Yellow, like Sekhmet's burning sun and captious healing; like Ra, and like the Lords of the afterlife, and the color of glittering gold and sandy dunes; like Cat Noir's honey hair at sunrise, like flecks of gold sprinkled in green, green eyes.

As she had slipped into the dress, Marineith decided that she both terrifically loathed and wholly adored the color yellow.

That day had been the hardest day, even harder than her painfully silent patrol with Volpina and Cat Noir the previous night, when Cat's rejection and the Queen's death hung heavier above them than the dark clouds pouring down rain. A suffocating quiet fell over the entirety of Pharaoh's city, and it had been smothering in Merit Ptah's great, painfully silent house. Marineith had shuddered multiple times as wind and water rolled through the open window; she curled into her bed and holed up in her room with Aria, neither girl knowing exactly what to do with themselves on such a cold, silent day. The sound of rain, carrying the muddy scent of the desert sand through the window, was the only noise, Marineith thought, the only noise in all of Kemet, in all the Black Land.

Merit Ptah had not returned the night before. Marineith's mind was a mess, wandering from worried thought to worried thought, and when Adrestus wandered into their room, uninvited and looking thoroughly miserable, Marineith had silently extended a hand and invited him to sit with her. He took it, and their hands curled around each other. Marineith remembered the feeling of his breath against her skin as he mumbled the healing spell into her ear, and she debated returning the favor; but no, no healing spell could bring back the dead, or take away the fear haunting them. So she said nothing, and only lightly passed her thumb along the top of his hand. It was as much comfort as she could give Adrestus.

It must have worked; he squeezed her hand after a while, and they sat together like that, hand in hand, saying nothing. That was how most of the day passed: in total silence, worry etched on each of their faces, and fear kindling like fire in their hearts for what might have had happened to Merit Ptah in the wake of Queen Ankhesenamun's death.

Silence. Until the sun had set, and the three friends picked up the sound of rapid, sure-footed steps, the sharp clicking of sandals against stone flooring a wondrously familiar sound. They only had time to share wide-eyed glances before the curtain of the girls room was thrown open, and Merit Ptah, holding a brightly-lit candle and dressed head-to-toe in the yellow of mourning, came to a stop to glower down at them.

"I hear you have made yourselves scarce today," she said, golden eyes flashing in the light, and without waiting to hear them say anything, she clicked her tongue, motioned with her hand for them to follow, and turned on her heel. "I'm disappointed. You should all know better."

Marineith tried to find her voice, but it was Adrestus who spoke first.

"Mother," he breathed, and with a speed Marineith didn't know he possessed, Adrestus stood and closed the distance between himself and Merit Ptah. He stopped just short of hugging her, pulling back an outstretched arm in hesitation. "Where were you?" he asked.

Marineith and Aria quickly followed in Adrestus' wake, standing and moving behind their friend. Merit Ptah, unfazed, continued walking, and so the three teenagers followed in her wake, waiting for her to answer.

Instead, she brought them down to the kitchens, which were empty at this time of night. She placed the candle on one of the counters, illuminating a loaf of emmer bread.

"Eat," she instructed. Marineith did as she was told, as did Aria; neither girl had eaten at all that day, and seeing the emmer bread made their mouths water. But Adrestus held back, brow furrowed in the flickering candlelight.

"Where were you?" he asked again, with more force behind his carefully-emphasized words.

Merit Ptah turned her head to look at her son; Marineith, who had a piece of bread close to her mouth before Adrestus spoke, slowly lowered the food to stare at the fire in Adrestus' green eyes as he and his mother locked gazes for a few tense moments.

Finally, Merit Ptah, without looking away from her son, spoke.

"Consoling the Pharaoh, and reciting preliminary spells for the Queen's good passage to the afterlife." Merit Ptah's golden eyes flickered with the candle in the air, gold on gold. "Were you worried?"

The relieved sag of Adrestus' shoulders telling.

"Welcome home," he said gently.

Merit Ptah's lips curled into a tight smile.

"Eat," she said again; this time, Adrestus complied, taking a piece of bread from Marineith's outstretched hand.

When their fingers brushed each others, and he smiled gratefully at her, Marineith's heart stuttered.

The rest of the week had been unofficially deemed a time of mourning in Merit Ptah's estate. Yellow attire was mandatory; everyday, Marineith prayed to Osiris for the Queen's safe transition into the next life. Merit Ptah went about her business as a physician, checking up on the patients Marineith had been looking after for her, but Marineith was poignantly reminded of the loss of their Queen every time afternoon rolled around, and she felt the afternoon sun burning down on her head.

Akuma attacks had ceased altogether. It worried her and Aria, because what could possibly have stopped the Akuma in their tracks? As convenient as it would be to associate the lack of Akuma with the Queen's death, Marineith couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't that simple, couldn't be that easy. With each passing day, each free of Akuma rampages, Marineith grew more and more concerned.

But there was nothing to be done about it. She and the other Miraculous holders couldn't track down the Akuma, couldn't track down Hawkmoth, if there was simply nothing there to track. Perhaps, she thought in the recesses of her mind, perhaps the Queen herself had been behind the attacks. That would explain why the Akuma were no longer around; with Hawkmoth dead, the butterflies would no longer become soaked in hatred and despair.

But then she would remember the Queen's frail body, so fragile beneath the cloak of darkness and flickering lights. How could she believe that someone so close to the brink of death could have managed to continue producing powerful Akuma? There had been plenty of Akuma attacks while the Queen had been falling more and more ill. So there was no way it could have been her. In fact, her very first Akuma encounter – and subsequently, her encounter with Tikki and becoming Ladybug – occurred the same day Merit Ptah was first summoned to the Palace to treat an ache of some sort for Queen Ankhesenamun. There was simply no way the Queen had been Hawkmoth.

So what was Hawkmoth doing, then? Mourning, like the rest of the Pharaoh's people? It was possible, but mourning didn't stop her, Volpina, or Cat Noir from patrolling. If Hawkmoth was grieving so much that it stopped him from doing anything else... How close had he been to Queen Ankhesenamun to be so completely overwhelmed by her loss that he couldn't carry out any Akuma attacks? A chill swept through her at the thought.

What if Hawkmoth lived in the palace of the Pharaoh?

Marineith did not sleep well that entire week.

On the ninth day after the Queen's death, over a fairly quiet breakfast – at which Adrestus was, Marineith noted, absent – Merit Ptah clapped her hands to draw everyone's attention from their food. The table discussion faded away, leaving relative silence. Merit Ptah spoke, a stern look on her face.

"No sense in staying holed up inside," she told her family, friends and pupil. "It is a time for mourning, but not a time for sloth. Go about your duties with just as much pride as before." She fixed her gaze upon Aria and Marineith, looking each in the eyes before continuing. "The chef could use some assistance in getting ingredients from market today." From her tone of voice and the sharp gaze in her honey-colored eyes, Marineith knew her words were not just an implied suggestion to help. So after finishing their meal, the two young women slipped into their sandals and headed out after going through a list of necessary food things with the kitchen staff.

By the time they headed out, the sun had already risen, and when they reached the market, it was noontime; stalls of salted meats and exotic spices drew throngs of hungry shoppers, who crowded the sandy pathways and clogged the narrow passages between buildings. The girls navigated slowly through the droves of people, walking shoulder-to-shoulder and keeping up a conversation as they went.

"And so I said, 'If you won't give me the blasted flower, then I'll just go and find it by myself!' And that's how I wasted a whole month wandering around in an oasis to look for a stupid plant that doesn't really do anything useful."

Marineith giggled. Her friend's adventures across Egypt had been recounted to her when Aria had first returned and had been thrown an extravagant welcome-back party, but Aria had a way of telling stories that always made a tale seem fresh and exciting, no matter how many times you'd heard it before. Her words were like bright strings weaving vivid tapestries before her listeners, painting fresh hieroglyphs on a blank wall for her audience. Marineith was riveted.

"Why go to so much trouble for it, then?" she asked her friend loudly. Through the bustle of the marketplace, Marineith had to practically yell into her friends ear to be heard, even as close together as they were. Aria huffed, rolling her eyes, though the playful twinkle in her eye told Marineith that she was far from frustrated with the question directed at her.

"To put that Priest in his place," Aria replied, her rich, resonant voice naturally carrying over the noise buzzing all about them. Then she grinned, the whites of her teeth bright and dazzling against the backdrop of sand and mud-brick buildings. "And it worked! When I came back with the flower, he was practically falling over himself to apologize."

The girls laughed together.

"Serves him right," Marineith said, tone just as light as her friend's. "Trying to teach you about something you've studied for years!"

"I know, right?" A short, breathy laugh resounded from Aria. "And from a court herbalist, no less! But in the end, it all worked out in my favor. He got a nice lesson in knowing one's place, and I got a refresher course in tracking plant seeds!"

"How did they get there?" Marineith asked curiously. "I didn't think such flowers were native to those parts of Egypt."

"Oh, of course they're not," Aria said, waving her hands in front of her. "They get there the usual ways, though. Nile flooding, winds, animals, all that stuff." Aria's eyes shifted towards the left, and then her grin widened. "Hey, look!"

Marineith followed her friend's line of vision, her eyes alighting on a vendor sitting on a colorful rug. His goods were spread out before him in beautifully-woven baskets of reeds and straw. One of them was embroidered with black cats, and her heart did a flip when she realized their eyes were beads, bright green and shimmering under Sekhmet's light.

"Aren't those bracelets cute?" Marineith focused on the basket Aria pointed to, following her friend as she approached the vendor. "Hey, what're they made of?"

The vendor, an old, foreign-looking man with grey hair and crinkled eyes, smiled warmly up at them from his spot on the rug.

"Very fine materials, I assure you," he replied; Marineith was taken aback by his accent. It was familiar. "The ribbon is made of a fine cloth found only in my homeland."

"They look lovely," Aria said, smiling. "May I?"

The vendor nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course," he said. "Feel free."

While Aria focused on sifting through, and trying on, the beaded bracelets in one of the baskets, Marineith again turned to look at the cat-inspired basket. The old man noticed, shifting forward to shift the basket towards her.

"Has it caught your interest?" he asked. Marineith felt an urge to blush and, embarrassed,

shifted from foot to foot.

"Yes," she admitted, leaning down to inspect it closer. She ran a hand delicately along the finely-woven straw, golden-colored and firm beneath her fingers. "It's... Pretty," she finished, feeling like the word didn't quite convey how captivating the little basket was, how it drew her in with its twinkling, beady green cat eyes.

Twinkling, beady green cat eyes that reminded her of other green-eyed cats.

"I think so, as well," replied the vendor. She looked up to meet his eyes, and they shone with something she thought looked like recognition, perhaps, or maybe hope. "For you, it's free."

Marineith's eyes widened.

"Oh, I couldn-"

"No, no, I insist," interrupted the old man with a wave of his hand. Ignoring Marineith's spluttering words and agitated hand gestures, he quickly emptied the basket of its previous contents and then proffered it towards her. "Take it, my child."

"I..." She turned to glance over at Aria, who shrugged and returned her gaze to an orange bracelet. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as the sun shines," he replied. "I assure you, it will serve you far better than it ever has me."

Breathlessly, Marineith took the basket from his hands, glancing down at the black cats with green eyes woven into the basket. Her heart ached, and suddenly she felt the potent heat of the sun burning down on her again, burning like it did when she was a child tending the fields by her father's side.

"I don't suppose I could get one of these for free, too, could I?" Aria asked hopefully, holding up the orange bracelet. The old man laughed, a raspy sound that Marineith thought was lovely. It drew out a small smile from her.

"Those cost far more for me to get a-hold of," he told Aria. "So I'm afraid not." His twinkling eyes met Aria's. "But I'm sure we can settle on a price that's fine for you."

After some bartering, Aria handed over some gold (and a bottle of herbs that also acted as spices) in exchange for the orange bracelet, and then she and Marineith thanked the old man and headed back into the marketplace to find the herbs and goods their chef still needed for the evening meal.

"Did you hear his accent?" Aria asked excitedly once they'd turned a corner and could no longer see the old vendor.

"Yeah, I did," Marineith replied, holding her new basket gently in her arms, close to her chest.

"I wonder where he came from?" she asked. "I've never heard such an accent before, and I've been all over Egypt!"

"It's Chinese," Marineith said. "My mother sometimes slips into an accent like that."

"Oh!" Aria laughed. "I forgot you're foreign yourself."

"If you count foreign grandparents making you foreign," Marineith replied. "I'm more Egyptian now than I am anything else."

"But still," Aria said, "I can't believe that old man came all the way from China! I wonder how long he's been here?"

"Not sure," Marineith replied. She looked down at the basket in front of her. "Long enough to have made all those pretty baskets, though."

"I guess that's true." Aria noticed the way her friend's eyes were trained on the basket in her arms. "Oh, Marineith..."

Marineith took a deep breath and blinked away the tears that were beginning to gather in her eyes.

"I'm fine," she answered quickly, squeezing her basket a little closer to her. "Just... I'll need time."

"I know, Mari," Aria replied gently, placing an arm around her friend's shoulders and running a hand through her dark locks. "I know."

Marineith sniffled, then looked up at her friend.

"I just didn't think... Sometimes, he would look at me, and I thought..." She sucked in a deep breath. "I thought I could see some of my feelings... Some of that in his eyes, too."

"It's not wrong to have loved him and hoped for him to love you back." Aria kissed Marineith's head, twirling some of her black hair away from her face as she smiled consolingly. "There are so many more men out there for you. One of them will sweep you off your feet someday, and he'll be more than Cat could have ever been."

Unbidden, Marineith's mind flashed back to her and Adrestus looking out at the sunset, to the way his golden-flecked eyes had made her heart beat erratically, just long enough for her to remember she only ever felt that way around Cat.

"Maybe," she said softly, hardly above a whisper, a tentative admittance from the quietest depths of her heart. "Someday, maybe."

Aria probed her friend on the forehead with two fingers, grinning widely at her.

"If we don't get back soon, Merit Ptah's gonna blame dinner being late on us."

Marineith smiled.

"Well, if we don't get back soon, it will be our fault."

The girls hurried on to gather the rest of the needed ingredients, placing some of them inside Marineith's new basket. On their way back home, Marineith tried to see if the old man was still selling his wares, but his rug was nowhere to be found, and his smile was soon just a quick-fading memory as she hurried home. There were more pressing matters to think about.

Like Hawkmoth.

Like Cat Noir and Adrestus.

"Fan of Cat Noir?"

Oh no.

Marineith turned to see Adrestus grinning from ear to ear, arms crossed as he leaned against a wall outside the kitchens. If she hadn't recognized the sound of his voice, she might not have realized it was him; he wore a black wig with golden beads strung in here and there, and unlike the long robes that fell from his shoulders which he usually wore, he only had on a Shendyt, a knee-length skirt belted at his waist with fine leather and yellow adornments. Heavy gold jewelry glittered against his exposed skin, but her eyes were drawn inextricably to his green and honey-flecked eyes, the tell-tale giveaway that this was the Adrestus she knew so well.

"Were you waiting for me to leave?" she asked incredulously, avoiding his question. She did her best not to shift the basket in her arms, lest it draw his attention, but it was to no avail; his eyes immediately flickered down to glance at the cat-embroidered basket, and then back up to meet her own eyes.

"Only when I heard you laughing," he replied, shrugging. "It carries, you know. Your voice. I heard it all the way down the hall."

She doubted that. She knew for a fact that the head chef had a booming laugh that could easily drown out a light voice such as hers. And in the marketplace earlier, Aria had to lean in to hear her speak. Marineith's voice was a light one, easily lost in any sort of cacophony. But then again, Adrestus had very good ears; he could hear her and Aria coming from a mile away. It was uncanny, the way he easily picked her out of a crowd as they passed each other by on the street sometimes, or the way he knew whether she was in her room before getting halfway down their shared hallway.

"You were waiting for me to leave," she repeated, rolling her eyes. He hadn't denied it; therefore, it was true. Adrestus pushed off the wall to walk beside her as she started heading towards her room. Aria had gone ahead of her, and now Marineith sort of regretted staying behind to help the chef put up the ingredients. But she didn't want to leave her basket, so she had stayed to help, and found herself asking what some of the spices were for. The chef had been more than happy to oblige her, and so Marineith had quickly gotten absorbed in the descriptions of certain spices and their uses, and how to make emmer bread, and how to shape the dough so that it would look like an ox when it had leavened...

Well, she'd spent more time than she'd meant to in the kitchens, and Aria was long gone by the time she found herself heading back to her room.

But apparently, she wouldn't be walking back alone. Adrestus fell into step beside her, their sandals clipping the ground beneath them, bouncing off the walls and echoing just enough to make their steps seem seamless to Marineith, like they might be one person.

It was both an infuriating thought, and an endearing one.

"Okay, okay, you got me," he said, raising his hands in mock defeat. "I just wanted to say hi." He winked. "See if you missed me at all."

Instead of answering, she raised her eyebrows.

"Where were you today?" she asked him. "You weren't here for breakfast."

"Oh." Adrestus let out a huff. "I was... Commissioned."

"Commissioned?" Marineith asked. This was surprising. He was still a scribe in training, technically; to be commissioned meant his work was good enough for his status as an incompletely-trained scribe to be overlooked. She knew Adrestus was talented; both of his parents were intelligent individuals, and Adrestus himself was quite sharp beneath his playful exterior. He had once given her a medical scroll he'd transcribed once, sneaking it to her in the middle of the night. He'd done a beautiful job; he had no shortage of skill. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah," he said. "Very good." The tight line of his lips and the unexcited tone in his voice told her he didn't think it was good at all.

She stopped. So did he.

"Who was it for?" she asked. Adrestus hesitated for a moment.

"Pharaoh." Marineith's eyes widened as he continued. "He needed scribes for new... New hieroglyphs."

"You painted on the Pharaoh's walls?" she asked.

Adrestus pursed his lips.

"Not exactly." He glanced back down to her hands, then met her eyes again. "Your turn. Why the cat basket?"

She felt her face turn red as she shifted the basket in her hands, as if she could somehow make the cat embroideries vanish temporarily. This was so strange. So strange to be asked about... Well... Cat. And by Adrestus, of all people. It was surreal, in a way.

"What's not to like about cats?" she said. She was pretty proud of her quick-thinking; cats were worshiped across Egypt. There was no harm in liking cats.

Adrestus raised an eyebrow.

"But a black cat with green eyes?" Adrestus's green eyes flashed with something Marineith could only describe as mischief. "That's pretty specific for 'just cats.'"

Marineith bristled.

"It happened to have green eyes," she defended. "I didn't go looking for something so specific. The merchant, he gave it to me for free, and-"

"Okay, now you're really stretching it," Adrestus said, laughing. "Someone happened to have this kind of basket just lying around?"

"It's true," she puffed, frowning. At least Adrestus had laughter in his voice again. It was always unnerving when he didn't have that airy quality to his tone, and besides, his laughter comforted her.

"Okay," Adrestus said, shrugging. "But you still didn't answer my first question." He grinned wickedly. "You're avoiding it, actually."

She felt her cheeks go red. She had been avoiding it; she didn't want to talk about this, not with him, not... But no, she needed to move on. Needed to move forward. She peered up into Adrestus's twinkling eyes, full of the same laughter that crept into his voice whenever he spoke. He was a dear friend to her, and his playful nature, though infuriating at times, had become something familiar and friendly, easy to relax around. And he cared for her and looked after her, had kept her company while Aria had been away on her journey.

Adrestus was one of her best friends. Maybe someday, she could tell him everything. About Ladybug and Cat Noir. If there was anyone she could trust with her secret, it would be him. But for now... Part of the truth wouldn't hurt, would it?

"Fine," she said. "I liked Cat Noir." As Adrestus started sniggering, she glared at him. "Most girls do, a little bit. He's handsome, and a hero."

"Okay," he said after recovering. "But wait. You said liked? As in, past tense?"

She sighed.

"I... It's complicated," she admitted.

"Have you met him?"

"Yes," she said.

"Well, then," Adrestus drawled, "I'm sure he likes you, too."

"No," she said softly. "He doesn't." It felt horrible to admit it, but she was relieved, too, because speaking to Adrestus was like the lifting of a fog, like the sunshine after a downpour, like the cool Nile waters against her toes after a long day under the scorching sun. Calming. Cool. And just what she needed. "He doesn't like me at all." She remembered their silent patrols the past week, of strained conversations and avoiding eye contact. "He might dislike me, actually."

"What's not to like about you?" Adrestus asked. "You're smart, Marineith. So brilliant you're apprenticed under Pharaoh's head physician." He flashed her a bright grin. "You've got beautiful, black hair that shines like starlight under the sun." He reached over and trailed his fingers along the length of her arm; she shivered, and he leaned closer to her, close enough that she was reminded of that night when he whispered a spell in her ear, warm breath like a laugh on the wind. "Skin richer than bronze, and eyes bluer than the most rare desert oasis, and a smile so bright and lush that it puts the Nile to shame."

Her breath hitched, and Marineith was suddenly aware of how close they were to one another, with his hand on her shoulder and a few mere inches between them. She'd never really noticed how toned Adrestus was, but with his chest and arms bare of their normal robes, she found it hard to miss. If she wanted to, she could count the golden flecks in his eyes, and it was a tempting idea, too...

He pulled back, breaking whatever had come over them then, and Marineith released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. "You're a walking Goddess." He pat her shoulder twice. "I'm sure he's smitten. He probably just hasn't said anything."

Adrestus was being such a good friend, reassuring her like this. But he didn't know. He didn't know the way Cat had looked at her this past week, hadn't seen the pity in his eyes or the hesitation in his movements. He hadn't heard the silence that stretched between them, hadn't seen the distance Cat kept from her.

"He said plenty," she told him, looking into his green eyes. "Maybe I am all of that. But I'm missing something, or maybe I was just too slow..." She shifted the basket in her hands, trailed her thumb along one of the black cats. She needed ladybug luck to say her next words, because even though talking with Adrestus helped, she knew it would hurt. "He said he's in love with someone else. But that's okay."

Her words were sincere. If Cat was happy, then she couldn't complain. Besides, Adrestus was here, and Alya was right, and maybe she'd been swept off her feet a lot sooner than she'd thought. Adrestus' laughter echoed in the back of her mind, his hair against the sunset, and a smile pulled on her lips. What was it she'd said to Aria at the market earlier? Someday, maybe. "I need to move on, anyways."

She left while Adrestus was still confused by her words, and so she missed the ensuing look of realization that crossed his face as he watched her go, mouth open and golden-flecked eyes wide and flashing.

AN: An update, at long last! :) I've actually been sitting on this chapter for a while now. Sent it to a friend, and forgot to publish it. Oops.

Have a good day, Miraculers!

xoxoPigTails