Chapter 4 – Ickier Bridges

What was the point of crossing a bridge too far if the only thing waiting on the other side was a series of grosser and ickier bridges?

That morning, when she’d woken up in her silky sheets, Lillia would have had some choice words for anyone who suggested she wear a bug shell.

The first word was “Guards!” The second and third were “Seize them.”

There were no guards here. The closest thing was a skeleton on the landing below Lillia. If this was her metaphorical tower, Lillia was locked away like the princesses in old storybooks. Those stories had been less gross, and the handsome prince usually arrived before the bug clothes.

There was no prince, and she was in a mangled gown soaked through with things she didn’t want to name. Lillia glared at the words floating in front of her until they stopped making her skin crawl and began to make her skin itch.

[Equip Defensive Item – Chitterpede Chitin?]

“I’m not doing it. I’d rather die.”

The text didn’t respond. The text never responded. That was fine. If anyone had been here to listen, they wouldn’t have believed her anyway.

She knew she had to do what she had to do. But she was a princess, which meant complaint was her birthright.

[Equip Defensive Item – Chitterpede Chitin?]

“I said never.”

The text remained there. Waiting.

Which meant she was still considering it.

No. She wasn’t. That was ridiculous. A princess would never…

Despite being beside the fire, Lillia shivered. She sighed as she hung her head; several strands of her chestnut hair fell in front of her eyes. Her hair was matted and tangled rather than the straight and shining curtain she remembered from mirrors. Already a mess.

Fine. She would at least consider it.

Lillia reached into her dress and thought about the chitin. She tried to think of it as anything other than gross chunks and disgusting bile, but she still hesitated on the edge of her dress before plunging her hand into the invisible “pocket” where the inventory seemed to live.

The chitin was smooth in her hand. Clean. Slightly iridescent in the dancing firelight. It was lighter than she thought it would have been as well. If she hadn’t known where it had come from, Lillia might have believed it was a new luxury standard. There was a reason people went diving into the dungeons of their own accord.

[Equip Defensive Item – Chitterpede Chitin?]

She turned the chitin over and over again in her hand. How did you pronounce that word? Kai-tan? Chi-tin?

Lillia rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Sure. Fine. You win.”

The chitin dissolved. That was the only word for it. The piece in her hand broke apart into something finer than dust and swept across her skin like an icy wind. Lillia yelped and nearly threw herself into the campfire trying to brush it off, but it was already gone. Or rather, it was already done.

Lillia’s old dress hadn’t dissolved in the way the chitin had. It was simply gone.

When she uncurled, the new gown rattled. A thousand little plates had been woven one over another to match the billowing gown she’d been wearing. The rainbow sheen of the chitin caught the firelight in a hundred shifting colors. Lillia might as well have been covered in gemstones.

She’d never been one for subtle dresses, but from what Lillia could tell, this was pushing it.

There were two major differences from the dress she’d been wearing—outside of it being made of bug, which Lillia was decidedly choosing to ignore. The first was that she had lost the swooping neckline she’d worn to distract courtiers, and it had been replaced with a tall collar that rose almost to her jaw. The second, and most critical, development was that the new dress came with gloves.

As long as she didn’t consider that gloves meant she was always hands-on with dead bug, that was a massive improvement.

Besides, the bug was already touching worse places.

The text changed as Lillia focused on the details of the dress. She continued to look past it for a time, catching the shimmer of the chitin in the firelight and observing the details. Her gloves ended in sharp-tipped fingers. Practically claws.

[Chitterpede Chitin Battle Gown – Level 1 – Princess Class Exclusive]

[This item was crafted using the skill ‘Adaptive Regalia’ and will revert to a basic material if removed or if the wearer loses the Princess Class.]

[Provides a minor (+2) defensive bonus against slashing and piercing damage. The next [2] instances of damage the Princess receives are absorbed by the armor.]

[Born from a process that discovered beauty the chitterpede didn’t know it had in life. In death, it demands attention, shimmering to attract all eyes to its wearer.]

Lillia frowned at the description. First, she didn’t understand what most of that meant. Second, she didn’t appreciate the idea that the dead bug had agency in this process.

The princess stood up and stretched her legs. The new armor was comfortable. She figured it was still probably flimsy compared to anything a knight would wear into battle, but she’d been living in dresses and gowns since she’d been old enough to open her eyes. Pants would have been weird.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Before moving on, Lillia twirled once by the fire, letting the shimmer of the chitin dance around the room. Whatever the skill had done, it was impressive. Impossible, even. The chitterpede had not been large enough to make a gown.

Apparently, the dungeon disagreed.

Once she’d finished spinning, Lillia caught herself mid-smile, teeth nearly showing. She shoved the grin away. It was unbecoming of her station to smile with anything other than her lips. Plus, she couldn’t spend all day spinning in bug.

A warm fire was tempting. Now that she was drier, Lillia could enjoy the fire for the sake of the fire, as opposed to being wet and cold. It would have been nice. Sleep would have been nice as well. Instead, Lillia’s gaze lingered on the stairway down into the depths of the earth.

She had food for tomorrow morning, whenever tomorrow was, and that was it. If her aunt was not coming back to apologize, then Lillia would be down here until…

Until?

Sir Nobody had been here too long. Long enough to stop counting. Long enough to leave a skeleton on the stairs.

In six months, Lillia would come of royal age. In six months, if she was alive and above ground, the throne could be hers again.

She was too close to that to lie down beside Sir Nobody and rot politely.

She had youthful vigor on her side. It was time to explore.

Lillia continued to stare down at the staircase. Another room awaited her down there. Another potential bug. Another time locked inside until she touched something gross. But she was supposed to explore…