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Luka sprinted down the alley. When had Agreste put a bounty on him? He cursed as the men’s voices grew closer.
Suddenly, he was pulled through a door. He whirled around, gripping his cutlass, and was greeted by a familiar face. The baker's daughter. Marinette.
“Follow me if you want to live.” She started up a staircase, looking back to see if he would obey.
Self preservation, and a trust in her, drove him to follow her up the stairs.
She led him to a private chamber. A quick assessment suggested it was her room.
“Miss Dupain-Cheng, you shouldn't be helping me. I have a bounty on my head.” Luka spoke seriously.
Marinette stiffened. “I'm aware. I'm afraid that may be my fault.”
Luka raised an eyebrow.
She avoided his eyes. “I suspect the bounty is personal. Governor Agreste’s son has attempted to court me. I'm not interested.”
When he didn't respond, she continued. “I suspect the attention you have paid me has not gone unnoticed.”
He flashed a roguish grin that made her blush. “It sounds like that's my fault.”
“It’s punishment for spurning his son.” She muttered. “I won’t let the governor dictate who I deem worthy of my attention.”
“I'm not worth this, Marinette.” He said her name reverently.
She inhaled sharply. “Let me save your life. You can argue propriety later.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek, leaving before he could argue.
He stood stunned, fingers still pressed to his cheek. He was in trouble.