Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ladybugs, long seen as symbols of luck, renewal, and protection, carry a legacy of positive change. Perhaps, to Luc, they represent the unwavering support and constant care from his family, even when they navigate his less-than-typical hobbies and habits.

It was a rare evening at the Sleeping Dragon Inn when Hemlock’s whole family sat down for supper together. The inn was warm, filled with chatter and shuffling as Josephine plated up the last of the crayfish etouffee that she and Reina had made. She was getting ready to join the rest of them at the long table. 

Hemlock hurried out of his seat to grab the plate for her, taking care to pull her chair out before he did. He gave her a peck on the cheek, and, turning around, took a second to admire the family there. Family, both made and found.

Reina and Adeline were holding pinky fingers, listening to Luc tell a story about one of the many staghorn beetles the farmer had brought him this week. Hemlock had found one in the laundry room the day before, and it had scared the daylights out of him. But the boy loved his bugs, and Hemlock always wanted to support him.

Maple sat next to Balor, much less concerned about the bug story, having heard it twice already that day. Currently, she was much more concerned with grilling their dear merchant (though, Hemlock hardly thought of him as that anymore) about something or another. 

It was a rare delight, to be alive. Not everyone got to share such moments. Hemlock had never been rich, not truly, but he fell asleep in the arms of the most beautiful woman in the world every night, and spent his evening surrounded by laughter and love. That, to him, was as close to wealth as anyone could ever need.

The conversation lulled only for a moment when Josephine and Hemlock sat down, just long enough for each of them to exchange a quiet acknowledgement of the cooking and the company, before everything picked back up. The chatter around them lacked cohesion, like a jumble of mismatched thoughts tumbling over one another. It was the sort of chaos that came naturally to a table full of people who loved each other dearly. Josephine found Hemlock’s free hand on the table and gave it a squeeze, a silent grounding gesture. 

Reina’s eyebrows furrowed as she buttered Adeline’s roll. “How long are you planning on keeping the staghorn beetles in my room, though? It’s not that I don’t like them–” 

“You know Maple, I don’t think queens are supposed to chew with their mouths open–” Balor laughed, stabbing his fork into a piece of leek.

“I’ll do whatever I want when I’m queen, Uncle Balor!” Maple retorted, her tone as light as it was defiant.

Adeline was buttering Reina’s roll now. “Oh! Balor! Did you see the order Landen and Ryis put in? He wasn’t sure he’d have the time to talk with you before you leave.”

“Luc, chew with your mouth closed, please,” Hemlock chided, trying to make himself useful. He reached across the table to swipe at a stray piece of crayfish that had somehow made it onto Luc’s sleeve.

“It’ll just be for a few days– sorry, Pa!” Luc quickly corrected himself, sitting back down in his seat and finishing the bite of food before turning to Reina again.

Maple asked a particularly pointed question about regicide and Balor’s usual composure cracked just slightly, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Adeline, who saw the opportunity to help. “Oh, and Balor, I still haven’t seen your ledger for the last month! Can you get that to me soon?”

“Do we have to talk about work at the table, honey?” Reina grumbled, giving Adeline’s hand a squeeze. Her tone was playful and affectionate, belying her words. She would listen to Adeline talk about anything.

Hemlock watched as his youngest daughter’s attention shifted from Balor to Adeline in an instant. He was sure he’d have to intervene soon, but he liked seeing the ways they all interacted. It felt precious. His kids were already whip-smart– smarter than he’d ever be– they took after Josephine in that regard. But they also held a soft sort of ambiguous kindness, something he reckoned he was about to see from Maple. 

Balor hated nothing more than doing his monthly ledger, and they all knew it because he wasn’t particularly quiet about his distaste for it.

“Well, nobody answered my question,” Maple said, her arms crossed in a mock pout. “Adeline, don’t you think that, in theory, someone could just–”

“Maple.” Josephine’s voice was stern, and immediately the chatter at the table stopped. “No more regicide talk at the table, dolly. Please. ” 

Maple smiled innocently and Josephine shot Hemlock a look that silently asked, Where did she even learn that term? Hemlock shrugged, trying to keep a smile from tugging at his lips.

Luc bounced in his seat, clearly excited that everyone was quiet and he might finally get a word in. But his chance was stolen by Balor, who was now avoiding the gaze of both Adeline and Maple, instead resting his eyes on a spot somewhere in the middle distance.

Balor had softened over time, and that softness never quite seemed to leave his eyes now. His charm, however, was still very much intact. “Luc, you won’t believe what I saw during my travels this week.”

“What’d you see?!” Luc bounced even more eagerly in his seat at the promise of one of Balor’s stories.

Hemlock had once confessed to Balor that he worried his kids wouldn't get to experience enough of life outside of Mistria, and since then, Balor had taken it upon himself to share more with the kids about his travels. It was a helpful foil to Eiland and Errol’s history lessons.

Maple leaned in and was trying to catch Balor’s eye, and he regarded her with a playful pat on the head, drawing out the suspense just a little longer.

Reina cast Adeline a glance, one similar to the looks Josephine gave Hemlock. Here we go again. Adeline responded with a wrinkle of her nose, bumping it affectionately against Reina’s as Balor began his story.

“I was in a town called Brightwillow, and I saw just the thing for you. The Gossamer Bug Menagerie, it was called– a display of the world’s most beautiful insects. Butterflies that sparkle like gemstones. Stick bugs larger than your head. And…” Balor lowered his voice conspiratorially, pleased to see it had the intended effect of drawing everyone in just a little closer. “If the rumors are true, a spider that spins webs of actual gold.”

“A golden silk orbweaver?!” Luc practically shouted, the outburst loud enough to snap everyone out of their reverie. 

Balor nodded, a characteristic smirk on his face, though Hemlock wasn’t entirely convinced Hemlock wasn’t entirely convinced Balor knew the spider’s actual name.

Josephine caught Balor’s gaze just for a second, her expression a mix of slight exasperation and something else he couldn’t quite pin down. She knew exactly what would come next– Luc would be clamoring to visit Brightwillow. While it would be an incredible opportunity for him, the thought of organizing an expedition that would inevitably lead to Luc smuggling something home was already giving her a headache. Balor grinned sheepishly, quickly catching on, and glanced away.

Luc was staring at Hemlock, his eyes huge and pleading. “Pa. You know how much I want to see something in the genus Nephila. It’s on my list!”

Reina, sensing her little brother’s excitement, ran a soothing hand over his hair. Hemlock chuckled, his thoughts drifting to Brightwillow. He and Josephine had sung in a few taverns there back in the day. He could still picture the town square in his mind’s eye, crowded with flower carts and bakeries, the air thick with the scent of honey. And it wasn’t too far… His smile faltered as he remembered the praying mantis Josephine had found in her bonnet the other night. He met her gaze, and her raised brow said it all. This would have to be a longer, private conversation.

“Balor, did you even go inside?” Josephine asked, rising to her feet and gathering a few plates. “And you need to get Adeline that ledger, okay?”

Balor’s mouth opened as if to argue, but instead, he gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh. “Right, yes. Of course. I’ll… get it to you tomorrow, Adeline,” he said, his voice softer than usual. He stood as well, brushing his hands on his trousers and avoiding Josephine’s sharp gaze. Then, with a wry smile, he added, “I was on a time crunch, so I didn’t get to go in, but I thought Luc could tell us all about it! Maybe a live bug show would even be good for tourism in Mistria, hmm?”

The cogs in Adeline’s brain were already turning, and it was visible on her face. “Actually… That’s not a terrible idea. We do have some special bugs here and–”

Reina groaned as Josephine and Balor finished clearing the last of the plates from the table. “No more schemes, Balor. She’s still too busy dealing with the last twenty you came up with.” 

“And none of your schemes ever involve the dragonguard enough!” Maple piped up, leaning back in her chair and smirking at Balor. 

He raised an eyebrow back at the girl, still remembering the time the dragonguard had the grand idea to break into his room while he was sleeping. Adeline let out a small laugh, which only emboldened Maple, and she stuck her chin up at Balor’s questioning look.

Reina rested her head against Adeline’s shoulder. “Maybe we stop pitching business ideas when my girlfriend comes to dinner. I think she likes them too much.” This set off a round of playful bickering between the older kids, Adeline tossing a dry quip that made Reina crack a reluctant smile.

Hemlock’s focus, however, lingered on Luc, who was practically vibrating with excitement. His face was lit up with the kind of unbridled joy Hemlock wished he could capture forever– a spark of curiosity, wonder, and hope so pure it almost hurt to look at. If only he could bottle it up and save it for a rainy day.

Chapter Text

Butterflies, the things of dreams and hope, of grace and change always enduring. Much as the love between two, bound together as though by some cosmic force, and blessed with the love of more family than they had ever thought they would have.

The rain started sometime between dinner and the last served drink at the inn. The soft sound of it pattered against the window panes in Josephine and Hemlock’s room, a sound neither of them ever grew tired of. Josephine let out a contented sigh, savoring the coziness of it all, while Hemlock’s fingers worked lotion into her shoulders as he hummed.

“You’ve been carrying the weight of the world again,” Hemlock murmured, his voice low and fond.

Josephine’s lips curved into a soft smile as she met his eyes in the vanity mirror. “And you’ve been paying attention again.”

He chuckled, leaning forward to press a kiss to her shoulder and tuck an unruly strand of hair back under her bonnet. “Always, Josie.”

Her gaze softened when she turned to him, their evening routine long practiced and familiar. She brushed her fingers along a strand of his dark hair, admiring the gray at the roots. They had been together long before he’d ever gotten his first gray hair. 

They switched places then, Hemlock settling onto the chair in front of the vanity, tucking his long legs underneath him. Josephine reached for a soft-bristled brush, running it through his hair with deliberate care, her favorite way of saying I love you.

“I suppose we’ll have to talk about Brightwillow,” she began, her tone light but knowing. “I’d wager Luc is already halfway packed.”

Hemlock sighed, closing his eyes and relishing the rain, his beloved wife’s gentleness, and the memory of his son, so excited at the prospect of seeing insects they didn’t have in Mistria. And alive. The farmer had donated quite a few insects to the museum over time, but they were all expertly pinned and mounted. The farmer had also given Luc a number of new books on insects, and had even tried to give the boy a lesson on pinning and mounting. But it had only left Luc in tears at the thought of killing a bug to preserve it, rather than waiting for it to die naturally.

“Do you think Balor really hates bugs as much as he says?” Josephine mused, noticing Hemlock had spent too much time lost in his own thoughts. Her tone was both thoughtful and teasing. He loved her. “Or was tonight’s performance just… classic Balor?”

Hemlock chuckled, tipping his head back until he was gazing at her upside down. She ran the brush through his eyebrows and over his forehead. “You mean was it self-serving because he’s already picturing Luc running some grand Mistrian bug emporium complete with an entry fee?”

“And taking all the credit for it,” Josephine added with a smirk, briefly pausing to lean down and kiss him on the forehead, where he was still gazing up at her.

“Probably,” Hemlock agreed with a grin. “But he cares for the kids, too. Maybe he’s just trying to be a cool uncle. I don’t think he’s ever had that before.”

Josephine hummed, and Hemlock thought it was both affectionate and slightly exasperated. “Balor is my favorite stray you’ve ever brought home, dear. But he’s so full of ideas .” Hemlock turned back to meet her eyes in the vanity, right side up, and she brushed at the nape of his neck, a place that always made him shiver. “If we take Luc to Brightwillow, you’re the one dealing with his inevitable stowaways.”

Hemlock laughed, the rich sound filling the room. “I’m glad to know Balor beats out that raccoon we found living under the porch.” He reached back, running his hands down his wife’s soft forearms. “And of course, my love. I’ll deal with the stowaways like I always do. Maybe I’ll even bring you back as much honey cake as I can carry.”

At that, Josephine’s face lit up with a delighted laugh. “You remember the honey cake?”

“Of course I do,” Hemlock said, his voice dropping to that soft, earnest tone he saved just for her. “You made me walk across the entire town to get it for you after every performance.”

“And you never complained,” she teased, brushing the last few strands of hair into place before setting the brush down.

“Not once.” Hemlock turned in his seat, taking her hand in his. “And I won’t complain this time, either. I’d bring back a whole cart if I could.”

Josephine rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed, and her smile softened as she leaned in to kiss him. 

When she pulled away, she traced a finger along his jaw. “Then I suppose you’ll be going back to Brightwillow for a visit.” 

Hemlock leaned into her touch, smiling. “Then I guess we just have to work out the logistics. It’ll be good for him to see something new.”

He frowned then, and Josephine brushed a finger over his lips. “What is it?” she asked, and Hemlock wished he could melt into the sound of her voice.

“You know, if we take Luc to see the bugs, Maple might feel like we’re leaving her behind,” he said, reluctantly parting from her touch to stand up and stretch. 

“She’ll understand. She’s our most reasonable child,” Josephine countered.

Hemlock pulled the covers back on their bed, letting out a small laugh. “Our most reasonable child was asking your favorite stray to tell her about how regicide works at the dinner table.” 

Josephine laughed, swatting the air playfully as she walked to the bed. “I suppose we’ll just have to come up with something for Maple too, then,” she mused, settling in close to him. 

He turned off the bedside lamp, and she pulled the covers up over them, leaning back until her head found its resting place on his shoulder. Hemlock slipped his arm around her. They were both starting to feel the weight of their years, and Valen had recommended sleeping flat on their backs to ease the strain, but it was hard to resist the comfort of holding each other like this. 

“Maybe we should take her to the beach, just the three of us,” Hemlock whispered. 

“The beach in autumn?” she hummed, her eyes fluttering closed even as Hemlock’s loving gaze remained fixed on her. “That would be nice. She might find some nice seashells for her collection.”

Hemlock chuckled, finally allowing his eyes to close, though he could have spent hours looking at her. “Maybe we should make Balor get her something extra nice from the Capital, since this was all his fault.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’d love that,” Josephine quipped, finding his hand in the dark without opening her eyes and threading their fingers together. “He’d probably just be glad for her to stop asking him about the intricacies of regicide in Aldaria.”

The joy between them was comfortable, lived-in, and Hemlock found himself thinking about how lucky he was. He sighed contentedly, the sound rumbling from his chest. “And what do we do for Reina then? I wouldn’t want her to get jealous, either.”

Josephine scooted even closer to him. “Maybe we can convince Adeline to take a day off work for her.” 

“Well,” Hemlock’s grin was obvious in his voice. “She certainly did inherit your knack for picking partners who’ll do anything for her.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Josephine agreed. Hemlock was beginning to hear the sleepiness in her voice, and knew that in what would feel like no time at all, they would be drifting off together. “It is nice, isn’t it? Seeing them all find their way? We’ve done a decent job.” 

Hemlock snorted, wrapping his other arm around her so they were practically hugging. “More than decent, Josie. Much more than that.”

Chapter Text

It is easy to feel different in one’s life—this is something the crane fly knows well. With long, delicate legs and an unhurried flight, it doesn’t concern itself with the way others perceive it. Instead, it moves through the world at its own pace, savoring the fleeting beauty of its existence—a quiet acceptance of its own peculiarities, and the promise that peculiarities are often shared.

The moment Brightwillow came into view, Luc all but forgot the tears he’d shed about leaving his mom and sisters at home. The cobbled streets were alive with color—flowers spilling out of window boxes, draping over awnings, and clustered in bouquets so numerous that they were almost the only thing he could see. That was, of course, besides the delightful swarm of bees that buzzed around everywhere. And the people here seemed not to mind the bees’ presence at all! 

Luc squinted, and tightened his grip on his Pa’s hand, leaning in to get a better look at a bee that was hovering particularly close. The farmer had told him that identifying bees to species was a tricky thing, and especially with smaller varieties. Sometimes, to see their identifying features clearly, it was necessary to… well, to euthanize them, which struck Luc as rather dramatic. Instead, the farmer encouraged him to identify bees to genus instead, as the whole thing would be much less morbid for Luc that way. They had even shown him how bumblebees could be caught and placed in the freezer to temporarily stun them, so he could get a better look without the tears that followed.

Luc wasn’t allowed to put bees in the freezer anymore, and the farmer still hadn’t heard the end of Reina’s disdain. 

Luc shifted the silk bag of tesserae at his side, feeling reassured by its weight. He took a deep breath, savoring the sweet, heady smell of the air. Uncle Balor had given him the tesserae, claiming it was in exchange for “market research,” though Maple had quickly pointed out to both of them that Luc wasn’t nearly old enough to be involved in any legally binding agreements. When Uncle Balor had stopped laughing, he’d sighed and said, “Nothing gets by you, Miss Maple.” He paused for a moment, then grinned. Luc had tried to return the tesserae, but Uncle Balor wouldn’t hear of it. “Consider it a nice gesture, then.”

Luc looked up at Pa, his eyes wide with thought. “Do you think Uncle Balor would like a bug? I need to get him something… for market research.”

Hemlock’s eyes flicked over the bustling streets, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Maybe you could find a nice flower instead. I think he’d like flowers more.” He smiled fondly at his son, and Luc had a moment of feeling overwhelmed by everything. He gave his Pa a hug, his arms only just able to wrap fully around him.

The sudden hug caught Hemlock off guard, and his concentration on their path faltered as Luc squeezed him with all his might. 

“What was that for, bud?” Hemlock asked, running his hand gently over Luc’s head. 

Luc grinned up at him, the weight of his tesserae bag bouncing slightly against his side. “I’m just happy!” His Pa smiled at this, a rare kind of smile that Luc didn’t get to see all the time. 

“Good,” he said, and it was as soft as a bumblebee’s fur. 

Not a moment later, Hemlock led them to their first destination of the day: a carousel, its sweet, cheerful music drifting through the air. Luc’s eyes lit up. The carousel’s spinning top was adorned with painted flowers from all seasons, with vines that twined down to the poles below. But it wasn’t the flowers or the music that made Luc gasp—it was the carousel animals.

“ Pa !” Luc tugged on Hemlock’s hand, practically vibrating with excitement. “They’re bugs !” 

Hemlock smiled down at him again, letting go of his hand to let Luc get closer to the pretty gate that surrounded the carousel. 

Luc’s heart swelled with excitement. He desperately wished Dell, Maple, and Reina were here to see this. He could hardly believe something this cool even existed. The carousel was filled with an array of bugs, jumping and dancing around in a circle. 

 Luc had always felt a little different. People in Mistria were nice about his enthusiasm for bugs, but they couldn’t always hide their grimaces in time. He’d assumed that the same private disdain for these animals—who made up almost 80% of animal diversity (according to one of the farmer’s old books)—would be shared by most people in Aldaria. He had never expected that anyone would love bugs enough to build something such as this.

He glanced back expectantly at Hemlock, who seemed caught between Luc’s excitement and the gaze of one of the biggest people Luc had ever seen standing at the carousel’s entrance. The person at the gate reminded him of Hayden, Errol, and Olric, and suddenly, Luc wished they were here too. Everyone in Mistria needed to see the bug carousel, he decided.

Luc bounced up to Hemlock again, unable to contain his excitement. “–Didn’t know it was bugs though.” Hemlock was talking to the person at the gate, using his grown-up voice—the one he reserved for when the dragonguard were in trouble. It almost made Luc pause. Almost.

The person at the gate laughed, deep and loud, and then coughed gruffly. He had lots of tattoos, something Luc had only seen once or twice, and never this numerous before. He tried not to stare so hard, because his Ma had told him staring is rude.

“Yeahs,” the man said, “Bugs are the thing here. Brings in a good amount of tesserae.” 

“R–right,” Hemlock replied, reaching down to put a hand on Luc’s back. 

As the carousel came to a stop and people began filing off, Luc couldn’t contain himself any longer. “A whole town for bugs! I can’t believe it!” 

The tattooed man smiled down at him, and Luc wondered how he’d lost so many teeth—though he thought it might also be rude to ask. “Yin’s a big fan of bugs then?” The man asked.

Luc nodded furiously, smiling, though the look on his Pa’s face seemed a bit less excited about the whole interaction. That was okay, he knew his Pa sometimes got tired of bugs, and that was probably all this was. 

“We’re going to the Gossamer Bug Menagerie after this!” Luc had to slow down to make sure he pronounced the words right. “My Uncle Balor sent me to do market research!” He was bouncing with excitement again, delighted at the way this made the man laugh. 

“Well, why don’t yins go and pick a bug to ride, kiddo?” the man said, straightening back up to his tremendous height. 

Luc looked at Hemlock, who still had that odd, uneasy look on his face. “Can I, Pa?”

Hemlock hesitated, giving a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. His nod was barely perceptible.

Luc didn’t need another invitation. He beamed, then dashed through the gate toward the grand carousel. But he stopped almost immediately. “Wait. Pa. You’re not just going to watch, are you?”

“–yins see him, tell him to bring me those books he owes me, and the ride’s free,” the man muttered in a quieter tone. More people were beginning to line up, and Luc found himself torn between wanting his Pa to join him and needing to pick out the perfect bug.

Hemlock still looked uneasy as he turned his attention from the operator back to Luc. “Well, I was thinking about it,” he admitted, raising an eyebrow. “Why? Need me to keep you from falling off?”

Luc felt a sudden wave of embarrassment. “No!” He huffed, crossing his arms. His face softened, and he gave his Pa a look—one he usually reserved for when he wanted to bring home a new bug the farmer had given him.

Hemlock sighed dramatically. “Alright,” he said, pretending to be put out as he stepped onto the platform with his son. “But only because I know you’ll bring it up every time you’re upset with me if I don’t.”

Luc cheered, then moved on to the painstaking task of choosing a bug. He darted from one to the next, his heart racing as other people began to file in. Hemlock trailed just behind him, letting Luc lead the way. For a moment, Luc’s excitement faltered—the heartbreaking realization that he couldn’t ride all the bugs struck him like a sudden breeze. But then, his eyes landed on a glossy black and gold staghorn beetle, and he froze, awestruck. He ran his hand over the polished shell, feeling its smooth, cool surface. It was like petting stone—so perfect and flawless. He could have spent hours just touching it.

He pointed at the dragonfly next to it, its iridescent wings painted in shades of green and gold. “That’s perfect for you!” Luc nearly shouted, his voice full of absolute certainty. His Pa had told him once that dragonflies made Hemlock think of his Pa, and Luc had written that fact down in his bug journal more than once. 

They climbed onto their bugs, and Hemlock made a show of how his legs were just slightly too long for the ride, his exaggerated movements making Luc laugh furiously.

The carousel began to turn, slowly at first, the gentle creak of gears melding with the soft, lilting melody of the music. Colors blurred past—painted blossoms, glossy shells, shimmering wings that caught the sunlight as they bobbed in time with the tune. Luc clung to the polished back of his beetle, which leaped and dipped beneath him, its movement so lifelike, so real, that he almost believed it might take flight at any moment. Around them, the laughter and whoops of other riders mingled with the music, creating a joyful chorus of pure delight.

The wind tugged at Luc’s face as the ride picked up speed, and he turned to steal a glance at his Pa. Hemlock perched awkwardly on the dragonfly, his legs jutting out in a way that made Luc giggle. The green and gold wings on his mount shimmered in the sunlight, and Luc couldn’t help but laugh—a soft, content sound. It was perfect .

When the ride finally came to a stop, Luc let the motion carry him, his grin so wide his cheeks ached. He must have thanked his Pa at least ten times in a row, still caught in the dreamy, dizzying magic of the ride. When he closed his eyes, he imagined the bugs leaping and dancing in an endless, spinning procession—like they were still moving, even in the stillness. He wished, just for a moment, that the rest of the dragonguard were here with him. Maple would have adored the carousel’s pretty shrimp—it even had a bow! It was practically a seashell! Dell would have ridden the millipede and called it a dragon, no doubt.

The operator gave Luc a high-five as they left, and Luc made sure to thank him a dozen more times, even as Hemlock tugged him gently through the crowd of people entering and exiting the carousel.

Luc was momentarily lost in the bustle of people, and he clung to Hemlock’s hand as they weaved through the busy street. The whole town smelled overwhelmingly of honey, and Luc closed his eyes, letting the warm, sweet scents swirl around him. The sounds of Brightwillow—the hum of voices, the laughter, the gentle bustle along cobble streets—melded with the fragrance in a way that made Luc feel like he was walking through a dream. He was so glad his Pa knew exactly where to go. Before he knew it, they were standing at the entrance of the Gossamer Bug Menagerie.

The building before them was tall and grand, its sweeping pillars carved with intricate floral patterns. An archway above the door was covered with flowers of every variety—some even blooming out of season. Luc blinked, momentarily surprised by the stillness. There were very few people at the entrance, and he briefly felt sorry for anyone who didn’t know this place existed.

He reached for his market research tesserae, but Hemlock stopped him with a smile. “I’ve got this part covered,” he said, his voice soft as he produced his own tesserae at the door.

Luc blinked in confusion. “But Uncle Balor gave me this tesserae for market research, and I thought…”

Hemlock chuckled, a quiet, reassuring sound. “I’m sure there will be other ways to use it.” Hemlock didn’t say it, but Balor had felt a little guilty about interrupting dinner to tell Luc about the menagerie without first consulting Josephine and Hemlock. He’d made up for it, though, by slipping them some extra tesserae for admission.

“Wow!” Luc grinned, his eyes lighting up. “I hope there are! You’re so cool, Pa, thank you for doing this!”

Hemlock squeezed his hand, his smile warm as they stepped forward through the beautiful flower-covered arch of the Gossamer Bug Menagerie. Luc felt a thrill of excitement wash over him as they entered, the promise of more bug-filled wonders just beyond the door.