Chapter Text
The warm scent of fresh-baked bread drifted through the Dupain-Cheng bakery as sunlight filtered through the front windows, dancing across flour-dusted countertops and colorful macaron towers. Morning customers had trickled out, leaving the shop quiet save for the faint hum of the oven and the ticking of the wall clock.
Marinette tied off her apron and stretched her arms with a tired yawn. She barely had a moment to breathe before she heard the soft ring of the front bell.
“Coming!” she called, wiping her hands on a towel.
She stepped into the storefront and froze.
There, standing confidently in the center of the shop with a toy crown perched proudly on her head, was Manon Chamack—a little taller than before, but unmistakably the same energetic girl she used to babysit. In her hands was a faded pink teapot from their old tea set.
“Ta-da!” Manon announced. “I brought the tea party kit! We can have a royal tea party, just like before. I saved the seat by the window for Princess Marinette!”
Marinette’s heart skipped a beat. It had been months—maybe a year—since she had last spent time with Manon. Babysitting, tea parties, stories about magical kingdoms… all once part of her weekly routine. And now?
Now her days were filled with student council projects, fashion portfolio deadlines, and, of course, date nights with Adrien Agreste, who had finally asked her out just a few months ago.
The girl she used to play pretend with was now just a distant echo of a life she barely had time to remember.
“Oh, Manon,” Marinette said, her smile faltering. “I wish I could—but I have to meet Adrien soon. We’re finalizing our class presentation at the library.”
Manon’s grip on the teapot tightened. “But you said maybe last week. And the week before that.”
“I know. I meant to come. I did. It’s just… things have been a little crazy lately.”
Manon’s eyes lowered. “Too crazy for a tea party?”
“No! I mean—” Marinette sighed, crouching down to her level. “You know I love you, right? And I haven’t forgotten about you. It’s just... I’ve grown a lot. And things have changed.”
“You used to say I was your favorite princess,” Manon whispered.
Marinette’s breath caught in her throat. That line struck deeper than she expected. There was no tantrum, no dramatic pouting like before. Just quiet disappointment—the kind that didn’t shout, but ached.
She reached out, brushing a stray curl behind Manon’s ear. “You’re still my princess.”
“Then why do I feel invisible now?” Manon asked, almost too softly to hear.
The words lingered in the stillness. Marinette blinked fast and stood, heart heavy, unsure how to fix something she didn’t realize had been broken.
A moment later, Nadja Chamack stepped into the shop, smiling apologetically.
“Sorry, Marinette,” she said gently, sensing the awkward pause. “Manon insisted we stop by.”
“It’s okay,” Marinette said, voice distant.
As Nadja took Manon’s hand, the little girl looked back one last time. Her eyes didn’t hold anger—just a sadness that was somehow worse.
And as the door chimed closed behind them, Marinette stood alone in the quiet shop, suddenly unsure if she’d made the right choice at all.
Elsewhere…
That afternoon, Marinette sat beside Adrien on a library couch, their laptops open, but her mind miles away. Adrien noticed.
“You’ve been quiet,” he said gently, his hand brushing hers. “Everything okay?”
She glanced at him—the boy she had loved for years, who now smiled at her like she was his whole world—and forced a smile in return.
“Yeah. Just… tired. That’s all.”
But her heart still whispered of forgotten tiaras and cold cups of pretend tea.