Chapter Text
It was generally agreed upon by members of the Hive that Hornet, Daughter of Hallownest, who had gone missing about a year prior, was dead. After the resurgence of the Infection, things got chaotic, and communication with Hallownest had gone down. The bees who had once been comfortable enough to go all the way to the far west end of the kingdom now hovered nervously within short flying distance from their home, making due with honey from the acidic plants that had grown out of the Waterways. Vespa had mourned Hornet and Herrah and then moved on, as she so often did. Death was something she had grown used to in her long life, which might soon be at its end. The Queen was very old. Already she was assessing young debutantes, who might one day take her place.
The Hive Knight had accepted all this as the new normal, so he is taken aback when a scout comes and urges him to come outside and look at this. We must inform her Majesty immediately! The scout sounds happy. What could have possibly happened to cause such excitement?
Someone left a delivery at the entrance at the Hive: a basket of food, a duff el bag , and the f ormerly-missing princess. It is undoubtedly her, not just because of her resemblance to the royal family, but because she is carrying a brooch from the White Palace and Deepnest each. Such accessories are used to denote status, rather than crowns . She has grown since he last saw her at her naming ceremony. That was...two years ago, he believes. The Hive Knight bullies the other bees into carrying everything inside while he inspects the child. Princess or not, no infected are allowed inside. He acts indifferent about it all, but secretly hopes he won’t have to euthanize her. The Hive has lost enough bugs already.
She’s fast asleep and swaddled in someone’s traveling cloak, and to his relief, looks perfectly fine. He then takes a look at the letter pinned to her dress . To Queen Vespa of the Hiv e. By the time you read this, I shall have...
He stops reading there, because it’s very rude to p ry into someone else’s mail.
The princess stirs in his arms and sticks one of her little hands up. She mewls for her p arents and paws the air until the Hive Knight rocks her and pats her back, the way he does with the Hivelings when they’re fussy. Still little more than a baby, then. Practically speaking, this is another mouth to feed. He worries what the others will say. Not to mention, she’s not even a bee and therefore has little to contribute. He laments the days long gone, when he didn’t have to worry about the potential usefulness of hatchlings.
For now, his duty is to simply carry her inside and present her to Queen Vespa. Hopefully, it’ll all work out.