Claiming Her Crown: Butterfly Princess Book 4

Laia, the Butterfly Princess, grew weary of traveling the forest beyond the fields and across the winding river. The long, dark nights had grown uncomfortably colder, and the icy breeze made her shiver.

“It is time for me to go home,” she decided. “There are no more new places here for me to roam.”

Laia adjusted her golden crown to ensure the fit was tight. “I shall fly faster than fast to return home before night.” Then she stretched her lavender wings with a resolute jolt, and her flaming red birthmark shot out like a lightning bolt.

“Wind, get ready,” she said with a mighty bellow. “I will use your invisible hand to guide me!” Then off Laia sailed along the meadow leading her to the branch of her family’s tree.

Laia glided past farmhouses and dark, soiled fields in cozy slumber. Then she soared by mooing cows and oinking pigs warmly penned up for the winter.

Then, she noticed her wings cast no shadow and looked up. “Oh no!” she exclaimed. “It’s about to rain! Those bloated, gloomy clouds are moving closer. I will cut through the foggy forest to make my trip home shorter.”

Laia tried not to fret, but if she didn’t make it home soon, she’d be cold and wet.

She flittered above yellow, dry bushes and between leafless tree limbs. The sun had begun its descent, and the few rays piercing the clouds grew dim. However, she saw sparkles between the corner of a low-lying branch split into two. “Maybe that is a safe place to wait until the storm’s waters are through.”

Laia flew toward the twinkles reflecting the last of the day’s light. Suddenly, the top of her head felt a yanking fright. “Oh no!” she cried. “Look what I’ve lost?” Her golden crown had gotten stuck on crisscrossing white threads that glistened like frost.

“Yikes! I’ve been warned about these webs of tacky glue,” Laia exclaimed, staring at the awful sight. “Once a thing is stuck, there is nothing to do! The web holds on too tight!”

Then, a shape slinked out of the wooden shadows in a sneaky snap, and Laia fluttered back from the sticky sap.

“No, worries, my dear,” the figure gave a hush. “There is no need to rush. You can have your golden crown back. I give my vow to that fact. You simply need to retrieve it with your lovely lavender touch and your crown will be within your clutch.”

“That can’t be true,” Laia said, shaking her head. “I know about spiders like you. You’ll wrap me up in your silky vines and eat me until you’re through.”

The spider sweetly chuckled. “Oh, that old rumor always scares friends away. That’s why I’m all alone with no one to play. I guess you are just like the rest. You don’t see the good in me that shines the best.”

“I give you my heartfelt apology,” Laia said. “I should get to know you first and come up with my own theory.”

“Then, let me make the introduction proper,” the spider said. “My name is Sarsha, and I’ve recently moved to this land and spun this web as my bed. Please understand. My silken thread is nothing to dread. I always spin my web with glue droplets that can easily break. I’m no monster for goodness’ sake!”

Laia hesitated not fully persuaded. “If you don’t mind me asking then what do you eat? I drink nectar from flowers and sometimes honeyed hibiscus tea, but spiders gobble down insects like me.”

Sarsha shimmied a bit closer to where Laia hovered. “I go to the bottom of my tree and munch on the grasses underneath me. As you can see,” Sarsha spread four of her black, prickly arms, “this land is covered!”

Laia wondered. “I’ve been to many meadows and flown over many grasses, but I’ve never seen spiders eating that plant. I’ve gazed upon only grazing animals of various classes with quite the appetite, I must grant.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t notice we spiders during your journeys,” Sarsha said. “We are too small for your eyes to behold from the skies.”

Laia put her slender palm to her chin in thought. “How can I know what you say is true or not? I too have hopped over roots, under shrubs and through grassy knolls. Should I believe what I’m being told?”

Sarsha gave a subtle smile. “Why don’t you go to the grasses below and pull me a blade? Watch me eat it up without delay.”

Laia nodded. “Okay,” she said determinedly and flew away.

As Laia flickered to the grassy ground, she heard a thundering noise in the distance. “I want to hurry up and retrieve my crown, but Sarsha gives me so much resistance.”

Laia finally reached the base of the tree and pulled a dried, grassy strand. “I shall give this to Sarsha and then maybe I will understand. If she munches this morsel, I should believe her remark.” Finally, she flew back up through the dark where Sarsha sat waiting upon the tree’s bark.

When Sarsha saw Laia return, she gave a pleasant grin. “Come closer and hand me the grass so this dispute we can end.” Sarsha stared at Laia like she had a secret to hide. Then she waved for Laia to come by her side.

Laia started to flap her wings but halted her stance. “Wouldn’t you rather choose your own blade of grass? I think that’s the best idea of all.” And with that said, she let the grassy strand fall.

“I would if I could, but one of my eight legs has a twist. Climbing down the tree is too much of a risk,” Sarsha said, holding up fuzzy foot. “You can’t possibly expect me to retrieve my own grassroot.”

Sarsha’s words gave Laia pause. “This injury of yours—what was the cause? I hadn’t noticed a limp before when you came out your open tree door.”

“I was so excited to see a new friend that I forgot my leg was sore, but the pain is back, and I feel it all the more,” the spider did implore.

Laia considered Sarsha’s words. “I have an even better thought. Why don’t you hand me my crown, so in your web I won’t get caught? Then I can find shelter before the rains are brought.”

Sarsha looked nervously at the dark, puffy swells. “I’ve been so busy talking to you that I hadn’t noticed those scary storm cells. I need to eat because I’m so famished, but the newly fallen raindrops will cause my web to vanish!”

Sarsha turned her head to Laia and pouted. “I wish you would trust me!” the spider shouted. “You don’t know how unpleasant it feels to be doubted!”

“Please,” Laia pressed, “don’t take offense. We don’t know each other very well because we’ve only just met. In fact, to me you are more like a stranger. Trusting someone you don’t know can be a real danger. It’s common sense!”

“My feelings are hurt,” Sarsha said with a cry. “And soon my newly spun home may plunge to the dirt because of that fluffy flood in the sky.”

Laia did feel sorry for Sarsha’s unhappy dilemma, but then she felt a tiny drop of rain on her right antenna. “There is no stopping the downpour. If you don’t return to where it is safe and warm, you’ll be washed away in the storm!”

“That cannot be!” Sarsha whined. “This web of mine took me all day to spin, but if you were to help me, you will find that the silken threads will not give in!”

“What would you have me do?” Laia inquired. “It is getting late, and I am rather quite tired. I want to fly home to the branch on my tree, but you won’t give my crown back to me.”

“I have a proposal,” Sarsha said. “It will be no trouble. You hold one end of my web, and I will hold the other.”

Laia gave a frown. “That plan is no good. It won’t stop the rains from dropping down.”

Sarsha heaved a sigh. “My dear, I believed you would be braver and help me save this web of mine. And to think of all my hard-earned labor!”

Laia shrugged her lavender wings. “Why not view the loss as new beginnings? In the morning, you can weave a fresh sticky bed. Now, please give me the crown taken from my head?”

“Very well,” Sarsha said with a huff. “I will give you the crown and that’s no bluff.”

Sarsha then clasped the crown on the sticky web and lifted it free. “All you have to do to claim it is to come closer to me.”

Laia eyed her once-shiny crown, which had taken on a different sheen. “Why does my crown look gooey? What does that mean?”

“Oh, it’s nothing to worry about,” Sarsha said. “Hurry before the rain lets out.”

Another raindrop splashed Laia’s left antenna with a tickle. A sticky crown so close to a spider put her in quite a pickle. If she grasped the crown, she too would be stuck to the pasty glue, but what else could a Butterfly Princess do?”

“Decide quickly, my dear,” the spider said. “I have no wings to fly over there, so you must fly over here instead.”

Laia finally made her decision. “Why the rush?” She asked boldly. “Right now, patience is the key. Let the storm wash your web away, and in the morning, my crown will be sticky-free.”

“My dear, that is a terrible plan. Your crown may be clean, but my web will be unseen. Plus, you may lose your crown on land,” Sarsha gave a growl. “So come to me, so I can use my web to hold you down! I’m starving!”

Another raindrop plopped onto Laia’s lavender wing. “That was my hunch. You were only using my crown to eat me for lunch.” She looked at the spider sternly. “You better move quickly, for the thin, threaded ground you’re on is about to disappear. The web-wrecking rain is here!”

The spider blinked her eyes and her abdomen squirmed. “But what about this shiny, golden crown of yours?”

“Tomorrow when the light awakens the day, my polished crown will reflect slivers of the sun’s ray. Then I will swoop down and claim what’s mine and fly back home in plenty of time. Nothing wrong with a short delay.”

Then, the rain fell in a torrential roll. Sarsha dropped the crown and scurried back into her hole. Laia spied a crevice in the tree roots below. “I’ll be safe there until I meet my goal.”

Laia swiftly dove to a stem and hopped inside the root-laced nest. “Finally, I can get some rest.” She fell asleep upon a cushion of soft moss, trusting that her crown would not be lost.

Laia awoke with a stretch and a yawn. She gazed as the morning’s light turned night into dawn. “It’s time to claim what belongs to me.” She said smartly. Then, she sprang off her mossy bed and out of the rooted tree.

Laia hopped over puddles of mud and ducked under fallen forest clutter. She stared at the shabby scene around her and gave a shudder. “The storm made a mess with its rain and thunder.”

After much leaping and searching, Laia’s eyes made a blink. “Something in the distance is shimmering,” she said. “I bet it’s my golden crown giving me a wink!”

Sure enough, her shiny crown was hooked onto a broken branch nub. She carefully pulled the crown off and gave it a rub. “The paste from the web is gone. I’m glad I stayed the night and waited for dawn.”

Laia returned the crown to its rightful place. “It was clever for me to be patient and not make haste. Now I’m ready to fly home to my branch on the tree. I can’t wait to tell how I outsmarted a spider to my family.”