From the passageway, Princess Rosslyn waited in silence for the King and Lord Baranack to arrive at their places in the great chamber.
While she did, she passed the time by counting the spider webs in the dark space. Her night vision was excellent, so she had little trouble making out the shapes of the webs and even the slender forms of the spiders themselves.
Six of them, she counted. One more than the last time she was here. The little colony of spiders had infiltrated this space after Rosslyn noticed the maids killing the poor creatures when they came to clean the star room. She hid a pair of the bugs in the palm of her hand, waited for the servants to leave, and then slipped into the secret passageway, where no one ever cleaned, to release them.
And they seemed to be thriving. It brought a little smile to her face, to see them doing well despite simply being left alone. Sometimes she wished she could achieve that level of independence.
Then she heard the King and Lord Baranack taking their seats at the high table in the next room. The King cleared his throat and then began to speak.
“Lord Baranack, what word have you on the state of military readiness in Varia?”
“Your Majesty, are we truly shifting to a conversation on military matters? I had thought, forgive me for the impertinent assumption, that we had left the Princess so that we might discuss her situation more frankly.”
Ugh, Lord Baranack, leave the subject of matching me alone for an hour or so. I want to know what matters affect our kingdom from the wider world!
“I considered that conversation to be at a close for the moment,” the King replied coolly. “It is not a matter I would wish to discuss further without her present. Let us turn our attention to national issues or adjourn for the day.”
“Again, I hope Your Majesty will forgive the impertinence, but the Princess has repeatedly rejected the flower of Claustrian aristocratic youth. This situation is rapidly becoming a matter of national concern.”
The King scoffed. “I know you have not been a resident of my country for very long, Lord Baranack, as the Queen only sent for you from her homeland a few years ago, but you have hardly brought the flower of Claustrian youth forward.” There was a sound of rustling paper, and the King resumed. “I have here a letter from Pruford of Dessia, in which the Duke suggests that his two eldest sons should visit Claustria. An obvious effort to join his house with ours, which was unsolicited on my part.”
Rosslyn perked her ears up at this. She’d heard nothing of this letter. She vaguely remembered Duke Pruford’s sons, Edmond and George, but they had last seen each other as children. She struggled to recall their faces.
“Your Majesty, I am aware of your long friendship with Duke Pruford—”
“I should say that friendship is the least of the factors motivating this overture, my Lord. Pruford knows that he would be joining his fortunes to ours, and though Claustria suffers from our proximity to the Demon Empire, we are otherwise extraordinarily well situated. I should perhaps add that both of the aforementioned sons are known to be skilled warriors, and of course one is the heir to the Dessian throne.”
“True, Your Majesty, although the elder son is rumored to prefer the company of—”
“I put little stock in such rumors, Lord Baranack.” The King cut him off coldly.
Huh. What was he about to say?
“Of course, far be it from me to question your judgment. However, even assuming compatible, ah, preferences, the possibility of such a match would also require the sons to meet the Princess and like her. It has been at the meeting stage that all my most promising suggestions have fallen short.”
“I expect that one of Pruford’s sons would likely meet Rosslyn’s standards,” the King replied mildly.
“I am not simply alluding to the Princess’s standards, when I raise the issue of the physical meeting, Your Majesty.”
“What exactly are you insinuating, Lord Baranack? My daughter is splendid company: clever, funny, a gifted musician, spiritual, and well-read. Any man would be lucky to receive her attentions.”
Princess Rosslyn found herself nodding along with her father’s assessment.
“Your Majesty, may I reply frankly to the points you raise?”
There must have been a gesture of assent from the King, because Lord Baranack began his response quickly thereafter.
“She is splendid company for you, Your Majesty, and only for you. If she lost all of those traits you listed, and in exchange, I was simply permitted to add the quality ‘amiability,’ my duty would be much easier. She is clever enough, but she uses her wit to mock those around her. She is funny, if you prefer your humor barbed. She is well-read, but many of the young men who wish to court her have scarcely opened a book. She is very spiritual, in the sense that she shares the fascination that so many in Your Majesty’s kingdom fixate on, with their past lives. Perhaps she would be better off if she were less spiritual and more practical. And no one marries a woman because she is a gifted musician. In short, she is a most charming companion for a man of her father’s age and temperament.”
Well, there is some truth in that, she thought. All but a few of the young men I have spoken with are deplorably averse to reading.
“No one is perfect,” the King replied acidly.
“If Your Majesty will forgive me a frank addendum, she is also, ahem, less comely than might be desired to overcome those flaws.”
Rosslyn’s knee jerk reaction was to pull a face. Lord Baranack is just jealous, because he and his wife are no prizes themselves.
Then she heard her father’s hand clench onto the arm of his chair. It sounded as if the wood was about to crack. She couldn’t help but wonder if her father was about to strangle Lord Baranack. He rarely became angry, but he was an exceptionally large and strong man for his age, even when considering the unusual physical and magical power that was common in nobles and monarchs.
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And if he did strangle Lord Baranack, could I run through the halls quickly enough to arrive in the great chamber and witness it?
But after a long pause, she heard the King’s hand unclench from around his chair arm.
“You have spoken very frankly today, Lord Baranack. You have tested my tolerance for it.”
Father doesn’t actually agree with him, does he? He didn’t call Lord Baranack a liar or say he had gone blind or something. Am I truly plain?
“Your Majesty, we must be realistic, I beg you. Unless the Princess is the reincarnation of Warrior Queen Maud, which her physical and magical aptitude tests suggest she is not, we need to accelerate our succession planning to—”
“Lord Baranack,” the King interrupted icily, “for all that the Princess’s aptitude tests have not revealed extraordinary physical or magical prowess to match mine or her ancestors’, she has gifts of her own. I personally interviewed some of the experienced professional soldiers she worked alongside during her term of service. Some of them were men with no great love for the monarchy. They affirmed what my spies had told me already. Through her time in the army, the soldiery grew to respect her. Her abilities as a tactician and strategist made up for her lacking some of the power that our troops have come to expect in their leaders. Even were I to drop dead now, I believe she could keep a steady hand over the army.”
But Rosslyn couldn’t help noticing a trace of doubt in her father’s voice as he spoke that last sentence.
He really thinks that the kingdom might collapse if he were to die suddenly, she thought. Or at least that my place in the succession would come under some question. There was always her stepmother’s little brood, Rosslyn’s half-brothers and half-sister.
But the boys were ten, eight, and eight respectively, and little Oliva barely came up to Rosslyn’s knees. They were hardly fitting replacements.
“But Your Majesty—” Lord Baranack began, but some gesture of the King’s must have silenced him.
Then the King spoke, and his voice was cold and weary mixed in a perfect blend. “We have labored over these questions enough for the present time,” he said. “You may take your leave now. Do not trouble me with these issues again unless I raise them with you.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Lord Baranack’s voice had become small, meek, and distant. Rosslyn could almost see him now, retreating physically and repeatedly bowing as he excused himself.
But the conversation wasn’t the victory that she had anticipated and hoped for.
I suppose I need to think further on the subject of finding a suitable husband.
Her heart fell a bit at the thought.
—
Adon stared at the monstrosity beneath him, mouth slightly agape.
What the hell, mother?
Beneath him, the Ladybug Larva stretched and shook its body as it finished climbing out of its shell.
Adon used Identify again and again, while trying to keep an eye on the monster’s movements. Fortunately, the Ladybug Larva moved slowly, weighed down by the covering of egg goo that soaked its body.
Adon verified that all of the eggs around the Ladybug Larva were fellow Ladybug Eggs. And then he considered the implications of what that meant.
Had Adon’s butterfly mother really decided it was smart to lay her egg surrounded by a sea of ladybug eggs? Adon knew very well that ladybugs back in his previous worlds were predators of other insects. Including caterpillars.
He was intensely aware of the danger he was in, but perhaps just as importantly, he felt an immediate sense of betrayal, of abandonment.
It was absurd, but in his mind, he linked it to a thousand other times he’d felt abandoned in other lives. Even his parents going down to their beach house in his last life, on the day he died. It felt a little like he had been abandoned, which left a bad taste in his mouth that morning.
No, no, it’s not like that, he told himself, suddenly coming to a realization. Those stupid Ladybug Eggs probably haven’t been here as long as you have. That’s why most of them are so small. Your mother laid your egg here, and then the Ladybug laid her eggs and probably figured they would enjoy having a caterpillar nearby to snack on.
She didn’t put him in this position deliberately.
He focused all his attention on the Ladybug Larva.
Since it hatched, it hadn’t moved very far. It was eating its own egg shell now, just like Adon had. It struck him that if he could communicate, he might be able to talk his way out of this situation. I’ll stick to my half of the plant, you stick to yours, buddy. You don’t want any of this! But he had never been a great talker, and this line of argument sounded weak even inside his head. Besides, when had an antelope ever been able to argue with a lion?
His vision wasn’t very strong, but even Adon’s caterpillar eyes could tell the Ladybug Larva was twice his size.
If I only had a few more days of life first! he thought. If I just had a little time, I could eat so many of those Ladybug Eggs to double my size. Buy a bunch of useful stuff in the Evolution Store. But he would have to make do with what strength he actually had. For now, that seemed to be purely his unusual intelligence for an insect.
As he watched the Ladybug Larva, he just tried to hold as still as he could and hoped it wouldn’t notice him.
The creature slowly finished eating its egg shell, then turned to its nearest neighbor and started chowing down on the closest egg.
Damn, this thing’s a cannibal. No hesitation, either. Not that I would want him to eat me, but I am right here… I guess his vision’s just as bad as mine.
Adon began to entertain fantasies that he could last like this until nightfall. If that happened, maybe he would get the chance to sneak off in the dark. The stem was cylindrical, after all. He just had to climb down on the side where the Ladybug Larva wasn’t.
As he was visualizing this plan in great detail, including a possible stop to snack on Ladybug Eggs, Adon’s stomach growled again.
The Ladybug Larva raised its head, mandibles coated in egg fluid. It looked from side to side. Then it looked up.
Adon felt the predator’s eyes lock onto his.
Then it seemed to forget about the egg it was in the middle of eating, allowing the remnants to fall to the ground below.
The Larva began clambering over the eggs nearest to it, marching up towards Adon.
Cold dread filled his stomach.
No, please. Goddess, no… don’t let this happen to me in my last life.
Even as he silently prayed, the monster crept closer. Adon began going over options quickly, thinking with remarkable agility. When he remembered these moments later, he would recognize that this was what being near certain death did to him.
Run? But where could he go?
Hide? Too late for that.
Fight? Maybe that was his only choice.
He braced himself and assessed the Ladybug Larva in the few seconds before it reached him. His eyes scanned the armored form for weaknesses. But it really was built like a tank, even freshly hatched.
Adon became aware that he didn’t stand a chance. This wasn’t one of those moments where one might simply rise to the occasion and triumph over difficult odds.
This was more like a fragile human body versus a tank.
Unbidden, his body moved in the only way that might ensure his survival. His legs pushed off the stem, and he jumped into the empty air.