Chapter Text
Something about the Agrestes bother you.
Emilie is extremely kind and warm to everyone, including your family. She even encourages you to spend more time with Adrien. And Gabriel, too, is merciful enough to not snap at you when you suggested Adrien should take a break from his lessons.
But that’s exactly the problem.
Why is Gabriel so controlling to Adrien right now?
You heard about it from Adrien himself: he’s not allowed to go outside unless it’s for important events. He’ll be homeschooled, unlike you who will soon start your school a week from now. The reason why you’ll go to school too? Because the Agrestes sponsored you.
A child of their artist has more opportunities than their own son, and that rubs you in the wrong way possible.
‘Oh, that’s because they’re rich. You know how strict rich parents are and how much they want a perfect child’—
But Emilie Agreste is alive!
She was supposed to be the opposite of Gabriel, wasn’t she? The heiress of the Graham de Vanily who forsaken her name because she hates the limitations imposed on her and because she loves someone her family disapproved of.
But here she is, watching her own son turn into the most fragile, well-behaved little bird in a gilded cage. You never even see her argue against Gabriel’s orders of making Adrien ignorant of the outside world– and that pisses you off.
“Anpu.”
“Yes, master?”
“Let’s go out today.”
“Oh. Sure!” Anpu abandons the cookie on your plate and darts to your scarf. He peeks out and stares at your face. “Where are we going? And why do you look so serious?”
You fight back the urge to glare at the terribly boring wall of this place. “This mansion is making me so annoyed. I need to breathe some fresh air.”
“...Are you mad because Adrien doesn’t have time to play with you?”
“No, Anpu. I’m mad ‘cause whoever wrote this show brushed off one important plotline that should have been consistent.”
If Adrien really grew up with a mother who wants him to be free and have control over his life, why did she let him stay isolated throughout his entire childhood?
Everything is so contradictory, and God, it makes you want to laugh.
“I don’t understand what you mean but now I’m mad too!” Anpu huffs, and you smile.
Aside from your parents and Anpu, Adrien is someone precious to you too. With the way his family is moving, you have no choice but to step in.
You rush down the stairs and dart towards the front door. But just as you approach the gate, Anpu peeks out of your scarf. “Wait! Aren’t we going to tell your mom and dad about where we are going?”
“Oh! Right...”
Now that you got your fresh air (with your mother who walked you through the city because four year olds can’t go anywhere all by themselves) it’s time for you to think of a way to convince an adult.
Emilie is your best bet. As suspicious you may be of her contradictory personality, she must still have some ounce of that rebellious spirit left. If you play your cards right, you can even steer her into realizing her own mistakes… without her ever knowing you were the one who set everything into motion.
Because that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? You can’t just talk to her outright. No adult is going to take a four-year-old’s lecture on parenting seriously. Even if you were the same age as her, the worst that can happen is the other party feeling shameful by being called out so loudly by someone else.
And as satisfying it might be to shove the truth on someone’s face (as gratifying it would be to be the one in the right) shaming people doesn’t always lead to change.
So you need her to make the conclusion herself- if she truly loves Adrien.
The next day, you are idly flipping through a book in the dining room.
Your father has been busy painting lately, and your mother will soon come to the dining room with your target.
“Anytime now…” Anpu informs you. He’s floating right near the doorway, peeking from time to time.
“Good,” you nod slightly. “Let’s see if this works.”
A moment later, footsteps echo down the hall.
“They’re here!”
Anpu darts to your scarf, while you school your expression into something innocent, kicking your feet idly against the chair leg while acting like you are flipping through the page without the intent of reading it.
At the sound of approaching laughter, you raise your head and brighten up. “Mama!” Your gaze sweeps to the pale blond woman beside her and you smile politely. “Mrs. Emilie, hello. Thank you for giving papa this opportunity again. I know he shows it a lot but he’s really happy lately because of it.”
Emilie smiles at your words. “Aren’t you such an eloquent child?” Oops. “It’s nothing to us at all. In fact, your father is a wonderful artist so we think his work deserves to be seen.”
You are about to respond to her but your mother clicks her tongue playfully. “Have you been reading again? I just bought this for you yesterday and you’re already halfway done.”
You rush to close the book you purposely left on the table and hug it to your chest protectively. Both women chuckle at your actions.
Then your mother leans to whisper loudly to Emilie:
“Our little sunshine has always been so smart. Did you know that on their first birthday, my husband and I let them pick anything they want in a store and they picked up the French dictionary as their birthday gift?”
Emilie gasps. “A dictionary for a birthday gift?”
You resist the urge to grimace. What is your mom doing?! The last thing you need is Emilie knowing about how much you couldn’t adjust properly to being a kid back then.
So in typical childlike fashion, you groan and cover your face with the book. "Mamaaa, don’t tease me."
“If you don’t want to get teased, then get along, kiddo.” Your mother ushers you. “Mrs. Emilie and I are going to have some tea together. You go on and play with Adrien, alright?”
What?
Anpu subtly peeks out of the scarf. “Is this how it’s supposed to go?”
No. This is not how you expected things would turn out to be!
“Can I stay here?” you blurt out, hugging the book to your chest. “I promise I won’t be loud. I just wanna read and I don’t wanna bother Adrien too cause he might be doing something else today.”
One thing you learned about this world is that everyone is a terrible liar. Even your mom and dad.
It might be cartoon logic but compared to them, your sudden improvisation is basically Oscars worthy.
"(Y/n)," your mother says, a slight warning yet also sounding a bit panicked. She laughs nervously as she exchanges confused glances with Emilie. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly acting shy. You love playing with Adrien.”
Not the time right now, mom.
“Pleaaase?” You pout. “I just wanna read my book… I swear I’ll be quiet. Please, please, please?”
Your mother looks ready to protest again, but Emilie steps in.
“It’s alright,” she places a reassuring hand on your mother’s shoulders. “There’s no harm in letting them stay here. I’ll ask someone to cut some apple slices too so they can read while snacking on something.”
You mentally cheer to yourself.
Perfect!
Settling yourself into one of the plush chairs, you open your new book and let your fingers run over the pages thoughtfully. The weight of the two mothers gazes on you is expected. Adults always pay attention when a child is intruding a space just for the older ones.
This better work. You had to search through entire children's stories' shelves just to find the perfect book. Your mother was almost ready to drag you out of the store too- before you found this one.
“That book must be something great if you look so absorbed in it.”
Hook, line, and sinker.
You perk up immediately at Emilie’s interest. “It is. It’s called The Happy Prince! Mama let me pick it out yesterday when we went to the bookstore in the city.”
Your mother gives you an affectionate gaze but says nothing, merely pouring tea for Emilie as the staff brings you your plate of bunny shaped apple slices.
Emilie blinks. “Oscar Wilde?” She looks at your mother. “That’s… quite the choice for a child.”
"Tell me about it. I tried nudging them towards something simpler, but they insisted. I don’t know where they got it from but when they put their mind to something, they will never budge."
You tilt your head innocently. “It’s a children’s story, isn’t it?”
She chuckles, your mother deadpans. “I suppose when you say it like that, it’s fine. What do you think of it?”
“It’s kinda sad,” you admit, "It’s a story about a prince who was really happy when he was alive in his castle, but it was ‘cause he didn’t know about the bad stuff happening outside. Then when he died, he became a golden statue.”
“And because he’s up so high as a statue, he can finally see the sadness in the kingdom. It hurts him a lot how he was happy back then while everyone is sad. That’s why he asks a little bird to help him give away all his jewels to the people,” you continue. “But without his jewels, he wasn’t special anymore. The townspeople didn’t think he was pretty or useful, so they took him down and melted him.”
Emilie and your mother exchange glances. They look half-impressed and half-bemused by your ability to summarize it.
The pale blonde woman places her cup down the saucer with a clink. “It’s a sad story, yes, but it teaches us about kindness. The prince finds someone he loves, the little bird, and in the end, they live in paradise together. It’s a happy ending they both deserve for being kind.”
So what? Just because it’ll all be happy with someone doesn’t mean they weren’t hurt first? That the pain they endured before reaching paradise didn’t leave scars?
As much as you want to, you can’t say that out loud. That’d be too telling. Instead, you purse your lips in thought.
“But don’t you think the prince was… a little bit too nice?”
“Too nice?”
“Like… he wanted to help so badly that he gave away even his body, until there was nothing left of him. That’s not really fair. He didn’t even know anything about suffering before, and then suddenly he just—” You pause, frowning deeply. “He just let himself get taken apart. If he had known about the world earlier, maybe he could’ve helped in a different way. One that didn’t make him disappear.”
Your mother chuckles, shaking her head. “I swear, this child says the strangest things sometimes.”
“But it makes sense,” you press on. “If someone didn’t know anything bad before, then it must hurt so much when he finally learns about it.”
“My dear,” your mother tries to interrupt, but no.
You aren’t going to let this go.
“I know the story wants to say that kindness is always rewarded,” your chair scrapes backward, “I know that everyone needs to suffer first before getting their happiness. But if you don’t know how to deal with pain properly. If you’re never allowed to see and experience it. Then you won’t know how to handle it when it comes, and it always comes, doesn’t it?"
Silence.
You tense up. That doesn’t sound like something a child would say. But you couldn’t help it.
You remember the promise of the show, the amount of teasing it did to the audience about how perfect the main characters were for each other. Ypu remember the frustrating misunderstandings that lead to the other person feeling betrayed, pained, unworthy- and it’s just a kid’s show, you know, but you-
You’ll see it in reality soon.
The adults won't be there to show their children how to handle the pain they'll experience in life. And some of them won't even get the chance to deal with it, because they'll be stuck in their homes throughout their entire life. How can you not be worked up when you think about it realistically?
Your mother clears her throat lightly. “Don’t mind them too much, Emilie. Our little sunshine might have the brightest nickname but sometimes, they tend to overthink things a lot. It’s a..” she blanks out. “Unique trait they have." She sighs and rubs her temples. "You know, there are times my husband and I are the ones being scolded instead, when we do something that's unhealthy and bad. I don't know where they get this kind of wisdom from, but it certainly is interesting.”
Oh, thank you so much mom. Even if she doesn't know your goal, she's helping you out by extinguishing the strong flames you accidentally fanned out in your speech.
Emilie laughs at the exasperation of your mom. “That just means you’ve taught them to grow up this brilliant, huh?”
“My mama and papa taught me a lot,” you sit back down, calming yourself. “But Mrs. Emilie, what if someone never gets taught?”
You almost messed it up, but you still have a chance.
Emilie’s smile stays, but she blinks in confusion. “What?”
“What if someone only ever gets to see the nice things? Won’t it be too late by the time they see the bad stuff?”
“Well, I suppose it’s important to prepare children for the real world,” she entertains you.
Your eyes glint in victory.
She took the bait.
“Yeah! And that’s why I’m excited to go to school next week. Papa says it’s good to learn with other kids and see the world properly. But Adrien isn’t going to school,” you turn to Emilie with a perfectly innocent pout. “I don’t get it. I thought going to school was important?”
“Sunshine,” your mother says. You have a feeling she’s resisting the urge to slap a hand on her face throughout the entire conversation. Maybe you can give her something later as a silent apology. “I told you about this before. Adrien’s circumstances are a little different than ours. He’s…”
“But if he stays inside all the time, he'll be like the prince,” you blink up at them.
Your mother’s mouth falls open, surprised.
Emilie looks away too. She brings her cup up to her lips, and you watch them both like a hawk.
That’s right.
You resist the urge to smile triumphantly.
Think about it. Let it fester your mind. And then, when you process everything that you have been doing lately, when you remember how you want to raise your little boy with love, you will—
“Mother…?”
You turn your head to see Adrien peeking inside the dining room. His green eyes flicker to your direction.
You have never been more grateful for his impeccable timing.
“Adrien!” Emilie stands up, clapping her hands in bliss. “Have you finished your homework that fast? Or- wait, is there something else you need?”
Adrien hesitates, glancing at you briefly before shifting his gaze back to his mother. “Yes, I finished my homework early so I wanted to see if I could join you…”
Emilie’s lips slightly part, ready to answer, but you don’t let her.
“Adrien, I got a new book!” you say immediately, hopping off your chair before anyone can say otherwise. “It’s my new favorite, so let’s go and read it together!”
“H-huh—? But- woah!”
Grabbing Adrien’s wrist, you drag him out of the suffocating room before anyone can stop you.
Adrien lets you pull him along. He glances behind where you two came from before looking at you again. “You’re really excited to play today," he notes.
I just finished dropping multiple bombs inside that room so I'm grateful for your interference-
“Cause I missed you a lot,” you chirp instead.
He slaps a hand to his mouth, muffling a yelp of surprise and fluster.
You don’t pay attention to how he steams in red behind you. You just hum to yourself, satisfied and happy.
Whether your plan works or not, it feels therapeutic to let all of that out.
Now, you just have to let Emilie’s love for Adrien take the mantle, and maybe he will be your new classmate next week too.