A Royal Send-Off

The hammering faded behind us as we wound through Grymforge’s corridors, and in its place came the sound of water, a growing patter of tiny legs, and high, excited chittering. By the time we reached the docks, it had become something like a very loosely organized parade.

Eliette had been busy.

Silk banners hung between the great stone pillars, catching the orange glow of braziers set along the pier. Hundreds of spiderlings crowded the waterfront in uneven rows, their constant scuttling echoing off the stone walls. At the far end, Eliette waited in her finest translucent silk, a chitin tiara wound with silver-white webbing resting in her long blonde hair.

“Darling!” She spread her arms as we approached. “Welcome to your farewell!”

Karlach surveyed the crowd and leaned toward me. “Hells, Boss. You sure this ain’t a wedding?”

“I hope not,” I said, watching two spiderlings fight over a place in the front row.

Eliette raised both hands for silence and received a little of it. “My beloved children! Today we bid farewell to our king, whose generosity has blessed this home beyond measure. He leaves us with a gift I shall treasure for many months—”

The front rows burst into applause, hundreds of tiny front legs drumming enthusiastically against the stone. The uneven patter spread through the crowd, growing louder as more spiderlings joined in, until the entire pier seemed to vibrate beneath their efforts.

“They’ve certainly gotten noisier since we arrived,” Shadowheart observed, watching the spectacle with mild amusement.

Karlach tilted her head, listening. “Huh. They've almost got a rhythm going.”

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes, studying the little creatures as their drumming began to fall into a vaguely coordinated pattern.

Eliette turned to us with a glowing smile. “Now, before you go, a final gift.”

Two spiderlings staggered out from behind her, carrying a neatly folded bundle of glossy black cloth. I stepped forward with both hands out, already wondering what other loot a spider queen might pack for her king.

Eliette blinked at me. “Oh, darling. This is for her,” she said apologetically, pointing toward Kagha.

“...Oh.”

Kagha moved up beside me, her emerald eyes bright with earnest expectation. “For me, Matriarch?”

“You admired my children’s silk so sincerely, dearest. I simply couldn’t decline your request.”

Kagha accepted the bundle with a bow. “You honor me. May I?”

“Please!”

She began undressing without the slightest hesitation, folding her camp clothes before setting them aside, and the crowd went up an octave. The chittering took on the unmistakable tone of gossip.

What she unfolded was recognizably her old Spidersilk Armor, though Eliette had given it a seductive makeover, making it look more suited for the bedroom than the battlefield. The dull grey had been replaced by glossy black silk, its smooth surface catching the light almost like polished latex. The corset hugged her waist more tightly now, ending just above her navel and leaving much of her toned stomach exposed. Delicate black floral lace replaced the pale mesh sleeves, while a pair of revealing black shorts were accompanied by garter straps and matching thigh-high lace stockings. She fastened a thin lace choker at her throat last. Kagha dressed with unhurried precision, and when she finished she looked like a very elegant threat.

Kagha smoothed the corset at her waist and turned to me, one hand on her hip and the other tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her eyes found mine and stayed there, calm and expectant.

*“Do you like it*?”

“Yes.”

“YES!”

Karlach and I had answered at the exact same moment. We turned toward each other. Her surprise slid into something much closer to regret, her cheeks darkened, and her engine gave a loud, humiliating thump.

“Something you wish to share, Karlach?” Shadowheart asked sweetly.

“No!” she said way too fast.

“You sounded rather enthusiastic,” Shadowheart prodded.

“So?” Karlach folded her arms and addressed the floor. “Doesn’t mean I have to say it out loud.”

Kagha smiled “A most welcome reaction,” She said, delighted. “You were correct.” She gave Shadowheart a small, satisfied nod.

I caught it. “Wait. You were in on this as well?”

“The shield was not the only thing we discussed over wine,” Shadowheart said demurely. “I may have mentioned how well black would suit her.”

“Eleven times,” Kagha said. “And after trying on some... garments, I found myself convinced. So while Shadowheart fetched your shield fragments, and you were busy—”

“Ogling Karlach,” Shadowheart muttered.

“—I paid a visit to the queen.”

“I would have liked another day for the finer work,” Eliette said, clasping her hands. “But you decided to leave in such haste, I’m afraid this is all I could do.”

“The result is extraordinary,” Kagha told her, her voice full of appreciation. Eliette glowed from the tiara down.

I took in the details of the battle lingerie closer this time. “Eliette, it’s gorgeous. Thank you. For your hospitality, for your generosity, for all of it.”

Her face softened at once. “Hospitality?” She looked genuinely puzzled. “Oh, darling. Hospitality is for guests. This is your home, and I shall keep it ready for the day you come to claim it.”

I drew a quick breath through my teeth, then answered with the smallest nod possible.

Eliette leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Travel safely, my love.”

We boarded the waiting boat. Lae’zel took the prow, and Shadowheart planted herself as far from the water as the hull allowed. Karlach loosened the mooring lines, and with a final push, we moved from the pier into the black water.

Behind us, the spiderlings lined the edge of the pier, raising their front legs in something resembling a salute as we drifted away, though each seemed to have its own idea of how it should be done.

Lae’zel studied them with slightly less disdain. “Their discipline has improved somewhat.”

Karlach chuckled. “The runts back at the Grove had better discipline than this lot!”

“They can be trained. They might become a frightening force under the right leadership.”

“Well, too bad we’re not sticking around to train them,” I said with a shrug. A spider army might come in handy, but the logistics of commanding several hundred of the little bastards made my head hurt. I had enough on my plate already.

Back at the pier stood Eliette, one hand raised in farewell and the other dabbing at her eyes, as heartbroken as a wife watching her husband sail off to war.

“FAREWELL, MY DARLING! I SHALL AWAIT YOUR RETURN!” Her voice carried across the water, slowly growing more and more distant.

“Eat properly!”

“Get plenty of rests!”

The spiderlings sent up one last chorus of chittering, and the salutes continued long after the boat had carried us beyond the reach of her voice. I kept my arm raised until the banners shrank to pinpricks of light and the small figure at the end of the pier became a smudge of silver against the dark.

She would be standing there for a long while, I suspected.