"To be able to live is one of the rarest things a human being can experience. Not many ever get to experience this feeling, because most people simply spend their entire existence... existing."

— Forbidden Love

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It all happened in a single blur. One moment, Chat Noir was sentenced to a life of what he believed could've been nothing but infinite unconsciousness—had things gone entirely wrong—and in the next, he was gasping for air as he was jostled awake by some perturbed dream that rattled him to his uttermost core. He hadn't realized something so unrealistic, yet so fantastical, could make someone feel as if all their breath had been robbed from their lungs. Somehow, something so unreal could make his limbs feel as if they were turned into putty and leave behind a distaste perception on his tongue. Even his throat felt as if it had been scorched in the Sahara Desert, underneath the sun's unforgiving rays.

Yet, it had all felt so real.

He wasn't sure if the gods had punished him or blessed him, for the dream—or should he say, multiple dreams—had awoken something in his heart that was simply waiting to be roused from its slumber. He felt more alive. He felt a divine spirit lingering in his soul, suddenly giving him a completely different perspective on what he should live for. Sure, he had known for a while that existing as the prince, heir to his father's thrown, would never make him feel fulfilled or happy. But living as a free spirit was all he had ever wanted.

And spending that freedom with the woman he loved more than anything he could imagine, made life worth living all the while.

Once he had caught his breath, Chat Noir turned his head to look over to his right where he felt the uttermost heat pressed into his side. There, lying beside him, was the woman he intended to spend the rest of his life with, sound asleep. She wore a peaceful expression as she slept, something that helped to assure him that everything would be okay. He realized that they were both currently still laying on the ceremonial stone that was lifted for an entire crowd to view, and he wondered how she had been able to lay beside him; how his father had even allowed it during the ritual. He had no strength to even consider it further, and instead, moved to simply drape his arm over his lover's stomach, embarrassing her to the best of his ability.

And then, his eyes widened the moment he took notice of his own hand.

Chat Noir lifted his arm to bring it closer to his face, studying it more vividly, for the black fur that once coated his skin had disappeared as if it had never existed to begin with. Instead, he saw skin that was almost identical to the color of Marinette's, covered and coated in freckles and moles. He stopped short when he noticed his hand, no longer a paw with cat's claws, but instead spread with five human-like fingers. He flexed the digits to see how they would function and narrowed a brow when they felt stiff and unnatural, leaving him to ponder how he had even gotten them in the first place. Where were his claws, his fur, and his paws? Surely, this was nothing but a dream, was it not?

And then, he was confirmed that he was wrong the moment Marinette jolted awake.

She gasped for air just like he had, but unlike him, she had enough strength to sit upright and take in surroundings. And once she had done so, she turned to look down at him again—as if to assure herself that he was fine- and her eyes widened, her complexion almost turning into a shade of pale white.

He eyed her unsurely. "What is it?"

"Y-Your face," Marinette shuddered, her expression a mixture of worry and curiosity, as she reached down to caress his cheek. He leaned into her hand the moment he felt her touch and scolded himself when he felt an involuntary purr rise into the back of his throat. He swallowed it down with whatever strength he had left as he studied her eyes, unsure of what to make of her concerned expression.

"What is wrong with it?" He asked her worriedly.

She shook her head to that, her brows pinched together as she studied him. "Nothing is wrong with it. It is just that... your fur, your ears..." her eyes travelled down his chest, and he felt her fingers reach up to caress his scalp next—in an innocent way of course—yet he felt his entire being shudder underneath her piercing gaze... and touch. "...it is all gone."

For a moment, he stayed silent, unsure of what he should say. Sure, he had seen his hand and it's human-like complexion, but he had assumed that he'd been too dazed, trapped still in one of the many dreams he'd had during his sentence to a different realm while he was unconscious. But from the way Marinette was looking at him, he had a feeling that what he was currently experiencing wasn't another one of his dreams.

"Gone?" He echoed.

She nodded somewhat sadly as she continued to inspect him. But as she travelled lower, Marinette's eyes widened again, and she was quick to avert her gaze back to his face, her cheeks flushed. "Yes... along with the rest of your fur. I think it would be wise of you to cover yourself, Chat Noir."

He frowned at her slightly. "What on earth for?"

He watched as she suddenly leaned into him, lowering her head so that she could whisper into his ear, which was now completely human-like he realized. When she spoke, however, he took notice to the way his incredible hearing had vanished, and he hardly heard what she had said when she whispered into his ear discretely, "You are naked."

Chat Noir yelped and scrambled to cover himself, unsure if he was embarrassed by the fact that Marinette had seen him naked or the fact that almost his entire village, who had come to witness his ceremony, had also witnessed a little bit of nudity. He turned to her for assistance, only to find the smile Marinette failed to conceal behind her fits of laughter.

It took everything in his power not to frown at her.

But those thoughts vanished quickly when the maids reappeared and draped a blanket over him, concealing his nakedness from the crowd. He relaxed slightly underneath the covers. Chat Noir felt somewhat exposed and embarrassed to say the least.

He felt Marinette's hand return to run her fingers through his blonde locks and caress his scalp gently, and he once again leaned into her touch and closed his eyes. May the gods help him because this woman surely had him wrapped around her little finger. Marinette's lips pressed to the crown of his forehead, and to him, it felt as if he had been touched by an angel itself.

"Do not be embarrassed, Chat." She mumbled against his skin. "I thought you looked beautiful."

Chat Noir sputtered and choked on his own saliva, which caused Marinette to giggle softly and place one last kiss onto his forehead, before she pulled away and offered him a soft, yet teasing smile. In return, he smiled sheepishly at her.

"Did you by any chance have any... interesting dreams while you were asleep?" She suddenly asked him, and the question itself completely threw him off guard. It shocked him—mostly because he had been pondering over what had been a dream and what hadn't ever since he'd woken up.

He nodded somewhat eagerly. "Indeed, I did. How did you know?"

"I think while your father was doing the ritual, I might have interfered..." Marinette replied unsurely, and he watched as she bit at her bottom lip—a nervous tick, he realized.

Immediately, he reached for hand. "Marinette, this is not your fault—"

"What has happened?" The King suddenly bellowed from behind the duo, and both Marinette and Chat jumped at the sound of the sudden voice. They both turned to look at his father who stood helplessly and at loss, all the while contemplating the scene before him. The ritual had been completed sometime before they had awoken, and apparently, the results had been completely unexpected by the king. "Why has the staff turned you into one of them?!"

Marinette's soft smile fell at the sound of his tone, and Chat Noir felt her hold around his forearm tighten involuntary. Chat Noir held himself in an upright position—the quilt he had been given situated to cover his lap—as he eyed his father with an irritated expression. "One of them?" Chat Noir emphasized, clearly disgusted by his father's choice of words. "Is that how you see a race that is not much different than us? Is that how you see the woman whom I have come to love?"

"You know that is not what I meant." The king replied hastily. "However, your identity has been robbed of you. Instead of taking a life like the staff has done for years countlessly, it took your image. Everything that you were is gone."

"I am still me, father." Chat Noir argued. "Inside, I will always be the same. The only thing that has changed is my outside appearance." He then furrowed his brow at the king, his frown deepening. "Besides, you should be delighted that no one was forced to die on my behalf."

"Of course, I am! I am relieved!"

Chat Noir tilted his head slightly. "So then, why are you so disturbed by this transformation?"

"Because... because then who will be my heir?!" The King explained in an exasperated manner, waving his hands around as if to gesture towards his entire kingdom. It made sense though why the king would be worried—should he pass, who would take control of the throne? He had no one else to pass down the position to, and surely, his son would have been the only one qualified to continue the royal bloodline.

But now, Chat Noir had been turned into a human. He was like her now, Marinette thought. Who would have thought that it could have been possible; that he could have been transformed like her. It meant that Chat Noir's wish had been granted to him. He could be free. Truly free. And live however his heart desired. He could leave this place; the place that he had claimed to love so much but wished to no longer be bound to. She could show him her world; teach him how to be someone who her aunt could accept, whom she could marry if he wished it, and whom she could spend the rest of her life with knowing that she could live it happily with him by her side.

Yes, this revelation changed everything. They could have a life together now.

"Is that all you are concerned with?" Chat Noir asked his father, his tone iced in hatred. "Your heir? Who will rule this kingdom after you perish? Are you not concerned about how your son might feel being turned this way, or perhaps that he is even glad that this has happened?"

Marinette held onto his arm tighter than she had ever before. To hear him confirm that he was glad to be like her made her feel even more confident that they were meant to be together.

The King's eyes widened. "You wanted to be this way?"

"I never wished for it, no." Chat Noir admitted. "But I often thought about what it would have been like to be like one of the humans. You see father, now that I am like this, Marinette and I can be together..." he turned to look at the woman beside him, a hopeful look clouded in his eyes. "... that is, if she wishes for it."

She smiled softly in return. "More than anything." Marinette nodded in confirmation.

He offered her a soft smile before he turned back to look at his father. "And truthfully, I never wanted to be king. You have known this for a very long time, yet you kept insisting that it was my destiny, my uttermost purpose in life. However, I believe my purpose stretches far beyond that, and I intend to discover what it is with Marinette by my side, with or without your approval."

The air clouded with tension, and Marinette watched in awe as Chat Noir turned back to look at her again. He reached for one of her hands that held tightly onto his arm, and when she let go, he entwined their fingers together and held their hands against his chest. The world around them seemed to vanish as Marinette held his gaze, and she smiled softly when she felt his beating heart pulse against the back of her hand. Chat Noir returned the smile gladfully. If this it what it would be like to spend the rest of her life with him, then she was going to treasure every single moment of it.

Instead of an argument ensuing like he had expected, Chat Noir watched his father sigh in reluctance and demand that clothes be brought for his son to wear. The maids rushed off to fetch him appropriate clothing, and in the meantime, the king stepped forward to make an announcement to the kingdom.

"The staff has made its decision in changing my son into a human," the king said. "Which means it may have a sense of mercy after all. Therefore, because of this, I am renouncing my son's duty as heir to the throne, and he will be free to live out the rest of his days however he desires and wherever he sees fit."

There was an eruption of cheers and congratulations from the crowd of his kind, and Chat Noir watched in awe as the people—who had been taught to fear the human race for many centuries—rejoiced in such an acclamation that left him speechless. Beside him, Marinette lunged into him to wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace, and he grunted at the sudden impact, but embraced her against his chest nonetheless. He nuzzled his head into the crook between her shoulder and neck, closed his eyes, sighed, and breathed in deeply, embedding her scent into his senses.

Finally, he was free.

And if this is what freedom smelled like, then it was now his new favorite scent.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

"Are you sure this looks appropriate?" Chat Noir asked, taking in his appearance in the long bedroom mirror. From the corner of the room, Marinette had gone into overdrive mode and had pulled out all her remaining men's clothing that she had stashed for safe keeping—most of it that she had stolen from her uncle's wardrobe. Thankfully, she had said he could make it work for the time being. But the suit he was currently wearing felt odd and unnatural.

"I can assure that you look ravishingly handsome." Elizabeth said a little too enthusiastically. She twirled her finger as an instruction for him to give her a turn, and he did as he was told and reluctantly turned so that she could get a good look at him. She hummed in approval before she clasped her hands together. "Yes, yes, I do believe that these worked out well for you."

"I am unsure of how this will impress your aunt." Chat Noir said to the eldest sibling as he held her gaze through the mirror. "She has already met me. And from the way she reacted from my intrusion at the wedding, I can presume that she is not too fond of me."

"Your intrusion on that wedding was much appreciated," Elizabeth replied as she offered him a gentle smile. "Besides, there is no reason for Aunt to deny you Marinette's hand if you can make a second-good-first impression."

Chat Noir titled his head confusingly. "What?"

"What she means is that you are getting a second chance." Marinette strode towards him from the corner of the room, and he met her halfway, only to have her wrap her arms around his neck so that she could fasten his tie correctly. He let his own hands travel to her waste. "For years, my aunt has been trying to marry me off to the wrong man and she has never once considered that it should be a lady's choice to decide whom she should marry. For the first time in years, you will be the first that she will see that I intend to keep by my side."

He smiled fondly at her and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Then in that case, I am an honored man."

"This is just too cute!" Elizabeth gushed from across the bedroom. "Do not move an inch. I am going to fetch Krissy's camera from her bedroom!"

As Elizabeth disappeared around the corner, however, a holler from across the hall echoed throughout the large mansion. "Touch my camera and you are dead!"

The room fell into complete silence. A few moments later, Elizabeth poked her head back into the bedroom. "On second thought, perhaps I will just embed this memory into my head and pray I never forget it." She smiled sheepishly.

Chat Noir and Marinette shared a knowing look, then erupted into a fit of laughter. Of course, Krissy had somehow eavesdropped on their conversation, or perhaps, had simply taken a glass and pressed her ear against it. Marinette concluded that Krissy had taken her skills of snooping to heart.

"Oh, and one more thing," Marinette said, and Chat Noir watched as Elizabeth exited the room once again. He assumed that she was headed back downstairs to assist their aunt in finishing up the preparations for the evening, but he did not bother to ask. Instead, he turned his attention back on the woman he loved so very much, and when their eyes met, he found that she was wearing a very unsure expression. "For tonight, I was wondering if it would be all right for me to address you as Adrien. I thought I would ask since you did not appreciate your father calling you such, and I figured it would be a bit odd if I introduced you as Chat Noir... not because it is a bad name! But it is highly uncommon and I—"

He smiled knowingly as he realized she was rambling. It was one of the many qualities he loved about Marinette. Blatantly, he laid a finger against her lips to silence her. "Marinette, you are allowed to call me whatever your heart desires."

She raised a brow. "You do not mind?"

Chat Noir shook his head. "Not if you are the one to say it. I never felt as if my father deserved the right to call me by a name, since it had been my mother who chose it. I do not mind if you wish to call me by that name, though. It is part of who I am, after all."

Marinette smiled softly in return and reached up to caress his cheek. He leaned into the palm of her hand as she did so. "In that case, Adrien, are you ready to head downstairs for dinner?"

She stepped away from him for merely a second, and he was slightly confused, until she offered her arm to him. He grinned knowingly and linked his arm with hers. "Not in the slightest milady. But with you by my side, I am sure that all will work out according to plan."

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