It was business as usual for Alanea. Spindling an intricate web. Lurking in the shadows, waiting for prey. Leaping into a frenzy once a victim fell prey to her schemes. Then the fun began. It was a gruesome spectacle. Her fangs ripping right into the poor sucker. Her unparalleled venom made short work of her meal. It dissolved any sort of struggle her snack displayed. Soon, a liquefied, lifeless corpse was all that remained. Then she ate. Devoured, rather. She slurped her well-earned sustenance. Finally, she discarded the desiccated husk as if it were an old, boring toy she no longer wanted. It went as well as usual.

A commotion turned the bar upside down as soon as she finished having her fourth lunch.

There was a cork-like chump stumbling about something. She crept towards him and the gathering crowd with suspicion. Something the little pompous man said piqued her interest. One could become a successor to the crown by attending an event.

Was it that easy? More cautious women would’ve pondered if there was a catch. Alanea wasn’t wired that way. After the diminutive cretin finished babbling, she hopped and hid inside his hat.

She started daydreaming of the possibility of becoming the Queen. Cobwebs scattered throughout the castle with reckless abandon. Entrapped morsel no matter where your eyes lead you. She’d turn the castle into a veritable arachnid paradise. She had to learn how to become the heir before any of that happens, though. Still, she enjoyed fantasising over her, well, soon to be hers, gargantuan lair.

She dozed off inside the plump noble’s hat and waited. She had a hunch he’d lead her to the castle. Her spider senses never fail. She was right at the front doors by the time she woke from her slumber.