Araneae Nation: The Complete Collection

by Hailey Edwards

“Tell Hishima Paladin Vaughn looks forward to greeting his southernmost ally and that he anticipates discussing plans for the unification of their clans. Tell him there will be a feast held in his honor upon his arrival, and another held on the day of his departure to rejoice in their newly forged alliance. Tell Hishima those things, and he will be salivating to make his grand entrance.”

  Floyd’s fingers twitched as if in need of a quill and paper. “Sweet lady, do I know you?”

  I gave him the best smile I was capable of after his announcement. “I am Kaidi.”

  “Ah.” His face lit with recognition. “Paladin Hishima was most concerned about you.”

  “I’m sure he was.” I imagined I felt his icy fingers closing around my neck as we spoke.

  Beaming, Floyd added, “He will be very pleased to see you.”

  “Yes.” I swallowed hard. “He will.”

  Turning to Murdoch, Floyd asked, “Shall I pass on Partisan Kaidi’s wishes to her paladin?”

  Partisan. How outdated the term seemed. Or perhaps I found its masculine tone more fitting for a future paladin than a future maven. It seemed I had been a maven-in-waiting for years now. I suppose I had. My betrothal to Hishima had stretched for far longer than I heard was proper.

  Murdoch gave him leave. “I trust you to twist her words to fit Paladin Vaughn’s tongue.”

  “That I can do.” Floyd bowed deeply to me. “It was my pleasure meeting the female who so utterly won her paladin’s heart. Have you any personal message you wish me to convey to him?”

  My instinct was to hiss and spit no, but I found myself nodding. “Tell Hishima I’m waiting.”

  The herald’s pleasure was apparent, as was Murdoch’s confusion. “I will tell him.”

  Once Floyd made his final bows, he departed. Murdoch and I were left alone. He sat by me.

  “Are you going to explain the secret in that message?” he finally asked.

  I kept my eyes downcast. “My intentions seem straightforward to me.”

  “You told a male you despise that you’ll be waiting for him.” Murdoch leaned his chair back as if to put distance between us. “If I were Hishima, it would be what you didn’t say that alarmed me.” The chair’s legs hit the ground. “You said you would be waiting, but I’ll bet Hishima hears the same warning I did. That you’ll be waiting—with a sword or ax, not with welcoming kisses.”

  “To have known me for so short a time, you read me very well.” It unnerved me.

  “Unlike some, I enjoy reading.” He grasped my chin. “Your face is an open book.”

  I let him stare, hoping he wasn’t telling the truth. “Do you enjoy riffling through my pages?”

  His thumb brushed my bottom lip. “Far more than I should.”

  I wet my lips and the tip of his finger. “Does that mean you’ve forgiven me for last night?”

  “You did me no harm last night. You only hurt your own cause.” He withdrew his hand, and he stood. “Much like the girl who cried canis, I can only take you at your word so many times.”

  And much like the girl in the fable, one snap of Hishima’s jaws and he would gobble me up.

  I did not see Mana that morning. She and Vaughn had a council meeting to attend. No doubt they intended to discuss their strategies for wooing Hishima with the elders of their clan. For my part, I picked at my meal and avoided Lleu in the hopes Murdoch might forget his earlier decree.

  It didn’t help. Wearing Lleu’s shirt was the same as waving a flag under Murdoch’s nose. It was shortly after we finished eating that he delivered me to Mana’s bathing room and ordered me to change. I was all too glad to relinquish Lleu’s coarse shirt for Mana’s softer one. While I had a moment alone, I searched every nook and cranny with no luck. Mana must have kept my chain.

  I figured she would, but I was willing to be proven wrong.

  “Are you finished yet?” Murdoch’s voice carried to me through the door.

  “Almost.” I righted a planter I had tilted during my search.

  After one last slow examination of the room, to make sure everything was put back to rights, I opened the door and found Murdoch standing with his fist raised. Poised for another knock and bellow, I’m sure. For a male who must regularly attend the maven, his manners were very rough.

  He picked at my fresh shirt. “That’s better.”

  “What should I do with this?” I held out what I had borrowed from Lleu.

  Fisting the collar, Murdoch tossed it into a corner of the room behind me. “Leave it there.”

  “Why would you do that?” I whirled, intending to rescue the shirt from the floor.

  Murdoch flung out his arm to block my way. “I said leave it.”

  “Fine.” I set my jaw. “Have it your way.”

  Seemingly confused by my capitulation, Murdoch stared at me. When I continued to act as if his stubbornness didn’t cause me ulcers, he cupped my elbow and led me in a different direction than we usually took. This route bypassed all familiar landmarks, and with a hearty shove, we left the Tower Square through a high arched door and mingled with the thin crowd on the city streets.

  “Where are we going?” Not that I minded an opportunity for fresh air.

  His pace made conversation hard. “The paladin instructed me to escort you to the tailor’s.”

  “I have no need of new clothes,” I assured him. “I’m content wearing Mana’s castoffs.”

  “You don’t have a choice. He expects you to be dressed properly when Hishima arrives.”

  My steps dragged. “Hishima would understand my state of dress was my own fault.”

  “When you were found, yes. Days afterwards, no. Once your status was made known, it was Paladin Vaughn’s duty to cater to you as he would expect another paladin to indulge Mana were they ever to be parted. It’s a show of respect,” Murdoch said. “Surely you must understand that.”

  “I’ll be bathed, dressed and made presentable.” Painted like a doll. “I understand my place.”

  “If you insist on mocking the trappings of your station, then why accept Hishima’s proposal in the first place?” His question was rude, prying, but his tone conveyed hints of honest curiosity.

  “I was in love.” I fluttered my hand over my heart. “Why else?”

  Bitterness gave his words a hard edge. “Few can afford such a luxury.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I tried making light of his disdain. “If an ill-suited couple pays for their socially advantageous match in misery each day for the whole of their lives, the cost of marrying for love may not prove as steep as they first suspected. Why, after a few years, the ill-suited pair could afford to indulge in such frivolity as the love match already enjoys, with far less misery.”

  “Is that what love is to you?” His dark eyes gleamed. “A frivolity?”

  “No.” It was the commitment of a lifetime. “It’s the only reason worth consenting to marry.”

  “What happens when that affection dies?” He peered so deep into me, I had to glance aside.

  “Once a commitment is made, it can’t be unmade.” Even if I wished it were so.

  “So you would agree to marry for love, on the expectation that love would carry you through a lifetime?” He puzzled out my reasoning. “Yet if that affection dies prior to the union, you don’t think it a worthy reason to dissolve that relationship? Where is the sense in that? It is ridiculous.”

  I gave the only answer I could. “I have never claimed to be reasonable.”

  “Gods know that’s the truth.” He was still shaking his head when we arrived. “Here we are.”

  The shop we entered was open on two ends with nary a door in sight. Rich fabric hung from the rafters and was piled on the floor. Silver and gold beads caught sunlight and blinded us as we passed their respective displays. Jewel-toned scarves were looped in chains that ran the length of the shop. Their festive colors reminded me of Titania on Radiance Day, a day when our city took pains to celebrate each color found in the prisms of the
crystals we all earned our living crafting.

  “You must be Kaidi,” a chirping voice perked up my ears.

  “How did you know?” My gaze darted around the room, but I spotted only Murdoch.

  “Business is slow with all the females…indisposed. It was a safe assumption you were my appointment.” The voice came again, closer. “Besides, you carry the Segestriidae accent in your speech.”

  I had just completed a turn when a mound of vivid scarves appeared to detach from the wall and drift toward me. A swirl of color and whisper of cloth revealed a pudgy face wreathed in the squarest smile I had ever seen. I briefly wondered if the tailor—and who else would skulk about this gem of a shop affecting such odd airs—had false teeth. He noticed me staring and chomped.

  I stumbled back against Murdoch’s chest. His arms rested on my shoulders and steadied me.

  “Enough, Stefan.” His glare appeared to subdue the bizarre tailor.

  “I meant no harm.” Stefan spread his hands wide. “None at all. Just a simple amusement.”

  “I was not amused.” Murdoch’s grip relaxed. “Neither was she.”

  “Such is the fate of our fair city.” The tailor swung a bolt of fabric in his arms and held it to my cheek. “This will do. Lavender for her eyes. Or—no.” He flung that aside and hefted another. “Yellow for her hair? Sunlight in a gown. Yes.” He frowned. “No. How about this one instead?”

  “This one.” Murdoch’s voice went gruff as he indicated a soft pink silk.

  Cunning glittered in Stefan’s eyes. “Rosebud lips. What tender petals those must be.”

  “I wouldn’t know.” Murdoch’s glare urged the tailor’s prompt scuttle into a far corner.

  The round male returned grasping measuring tools that could double as torture implements.

  “This won’t take long.” Humming, Stefan fit his hands to my waist. “Be gone, guardsman.”

  “Murdoch?” Panic lifted my voice high.

  “Take the measurements through her clothes,” he said. “My orders are not to leave her side.”

  “The fit will leave much to be desired if I do.” Stefan sniffed.

  “You have two days to sew her gowns and the paladin’s permission for private fittings in her rooms at the Tower Square. I vow that Paladin Vaughn will reward you for your understanding.”

  “Reward? Oh, I like those.” The sparkle rekindled in Stefan’s eyes. “Can you read tape?”

  “I can.” Murdoch took a slender strip of leather from the tailor’s hand. “What of it?”

  “My apprentice handled measurements for me.” Stefan brushed a scarf from his forehead. “I lost him to the plague and haven’t had time to select a suitable replacement. I wonder, could you lend me your sight?” He batted thick lashes at Murdoch, who cringed from his pale, cloudy orbs.

  It was hard to tell at first because of how he flitted around the room, but I began to wonder if his jostling of tables and scattering of wares was more than an eccentricity worthy of Isolde. I bet he saw nothing at all the way he bumped his hips from one table to the next to find his way.

  But that assumption made me curious. “How did you know the color of the fabrics if you can’t see your tape?”

  “It’s my shop.” He righted a spool of ribbon his bumbling had unseated. “I would hope I knew where everything was within it.”

  “And my coloring?” I pressed. “How did you know—?”

  “How did you know? How did you know?” he parroted. “My sight does not affect my brain, you know. You are betrothed to a paladin. Even if Maven Mana had not told me you were childhood friends, even if she hadn’t mentioned how she envied the shade of your hair or the paleness of your eyes, I knew the Segestriidae paladin would not wed a female from his own clan unless she was a flawless example of all their people’s finest attributes.” He hopped from foot to foot. “Are there any more hows or whys you would have me answer? Any other faculties you question I lack?”

  Shamed by his sharp tongue but grateful for the excuse, I asked Murdoch, “Is there another tailor we might visit?”

  “Here you are, and here you will be outfitted.” Stefan’s scarves slid over me like serpents.

  “You’re blind,” I pressed. “How can you design or produce a gown?”

  Chin angled upward, he huffed, “My mind’s eye sees perfectly well, thank you.”

  “Leave him be. The paladin wouldn’t send us to an incompetent tailor.” Murdoch pulled the leather through his fingers. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve done measurements before, for armor.”

  Clapping his hands, Stefan groped the nearest table until he found a corner of torn paper and the nub of a clay marker. He then directed Murdoch in how to properly measure the female form.

  “More cushion in their tops and bottoms,” he chimed. “Not so with your guards. Females are not so different from males. We swath them in silks, but those jewels, the gold, it is their armor.”

  I might have been more interested in Stefan’s musings from a philosophical standpoint if he appeared aware of when he was engaging or repelling us, when he made sense versus none at all. From a voyeuristic standpoint, I might have even valued his insight into my body, had I not been dissected before Murdoch. It was awkward having his hands move with such familiarity over me.

  Though I blessed the gods a thousand times that it was his touch and not Stefan’s.

  “That will suffice,” Stefan said a lifetime later. “I will see you tomorrow. Shoo now.” Numbers in hand and fabric under his arm, the odd tailor dismissed us without ceremony.

  I rushed from his shop back into the street, earning a few interested stares. Much like Lleu, I wagered these males were desperate for healthy females. I was not the striking beauty my cousin had been. I was not plain, but not lovely either. I was simply Kaidi. These males were not drawn to me because I was attractive, unless their desperation had made my ability to breathe desirable. It was a disturbing realization to have while standing in a city populated largely by males, that I was as much a commodity here as I had been at home, though for a different set of reasons.

  “Are you hungry?” Murdoch lifted his hand in greeting to one of the gawking males.

  I pressed a hand to my stomach. “Stefan’s company cost me my appetite.” He was such a strange person.

  “There’s a pastry stand not far from here,” he coaxed. “Sweet cakes and mince pies.”

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” I could not predict Murdoch’s moods. They seemed to shift with the wind.

  Looking pained, Murdoch asked, “Do you have an inkling how Lleu spent his morning?”

  I framed my answer carefully. “I have a vague idea.”

  “Allow me to enlighten you. It appears that you met Adeline over breakfast. There was some altercation no one seems to recall the specifics of, that ended with her swearing she would never serve you in her kitchen.” He let me absorb that. “Lleu convinced her you were my ward. And as your guardian, Adeline holds me responsible for your behavior and likewise refused me a meal.”

  “She can’t treat you that way.” I frowned. “Vaughn would never allow her to slight you.”

  “He won’t know if I can help it.” He sounded resolved. “He has enough on his mind.”

  If I had my way, his paladin would have even more to occupy his thoughts.

  “Then I will speak to Adeline on your behalf.” I could be persuasive when I chose.

  “Is that wise?” He rubbed his jaw, which still boasted discolored splotches and scabs.

  It hurt me as much to see the reminders of what I had done as it must hurt him to wear them.

  “I will be gentle with her,” I promised. “She will be made to see reason.”

  “Sure you don’t mind?” His uncertainty softened the painful knot ever present in my chest.

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I did.” I slid my arm through his. “Where is this pastry stand?”

  “Just ahead.” His arm folded against his side and drew me
closer. “I can already smell it.”

  Inhaling brought me the scents of unwashed bodies and rot. I coughed against my shoulder.

  He glanced at me. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine.” Short inhales were key until we left the denser areas.

  His fingers skimmed my jaw. “Perhaps it’s wiser to return to the towers.”

  “What?” I needled him. “Did Vaughn not approve this stop?”

  “No.” Murdoch halted in the middle of the street. “He didn’t.”

  I leaned against his hand. “I was teasing.”

  “Is that how you see me?” He withdrew. “Do you think I must be spoon-fed direction? That I am unable to make my own decisions? There is loyalty and then there is foolery. I am no fool.”

  I took a step away from him. “I didn’t mean to imply you were. You serve your paladin—”

  “As I served his mother before him.” His shoulders tensed. “Not all of us are as fortunate as you. We can’t all command our destinies. Some are trapped by necessity or are scorned by fate.”

  “Which are you?” I asked with unexpected boldness. “Has necessity trapped you?”

  His answer was the start of a tic beneath his eye. “I have no regrets.”

  Grasping my elbow, he spun on his heel and began the long and silent return to the towers. I hadn’t meant to offend him, but we seemed doomed to misunderstand one another’s every word.

  Murdoch thought me master of my own fate? Did he then consider himself a slave to his?

  Chapter 7

  “You can’t enjoy reading that,” a teasing voice murmured at my ear.

  I startled when an unfamiliar male thumped the cover of A History of Cathis.

  “Actually…” I met his mocking gaze and managed to surprise us both by admitting, “I find it quite fascinating.”

  “You don’t have to lie for my benefit.” He flashed his fangs. “I’m no Mimetidae to care.”

  Without turning my head, I scanned the room. Upon our return to the towers, Murdoch had left me alone with only a guard outside the door. I had taken the initiative to sit at his desk and read through the first chapters of the cherished history book he had attempted to share with me earlier.