Hornet had never liked the Queen's Gardens.

It wasn't like the Greenpath; the land of Unn was wild and treacherous and beautiful and it knew all of these things well. Though the Mosskin had never leaned towards aggression, they were not inclined to hide their intentions from any wanderers traveling along the Pilgrim's Way. They did not dress themselves in pretty intentions only to bury a nail in one's back when their guard had been relaxed. The Mosskin were an honest sort, and Hornet could do nothing but hold respect for that.

The Queen and her Gardens, however, weren't the same. So much of what the White Lady loved and adorned her second home in was nothing more than pale beauty draped over hideous truths. The Queen's Gardens lulled one into a false sense of security and snapped shut on those foolish enough to take the bait.

Hornet was many things, but she did not consider herself foolish.

And yet despite all of this, she found herself standing in the heart of those Gardens, claws gripping her needle so tightly she would be worried of snapping it if her weapon were of a lesser make. Hornet had told herself she would not return to this place without emergency, and unfortunately such a situation was exactly what found her there that day, and it was imperative she have an immediate audience with the Queen.

At least if only this damn Knight would get out of her way.

"I come from the White Palace with a message for the Lady," she announced, making her best attempt at schooling her tone into something at least marginally diplomatic. "Do you wish to delay me so needlessly in this?"

"My Lady has requested to be left alone for the time being," Dryya – one of the Pale King's five Great Knights, a fierce warrior on the battlefield, dedicated confidant to the White Lady, and chronic thorn in Hornet's side – responded with such an insufferable air of authority Hornet might have been inclined to answer her with blows if not for the severity of the situation. "Go back to your den, little spider. Leave my Lady in peace."

"Hallownest has not known peace for the entirety of its reign, and it will not begin today," Hornet bit out in return. "Allow me to pass; there is news I must discuss with my stepmother."

"I have given you my answer," Dryya stated, gripping her nail where it still rested upon her side, though by anyone's guess it would not be for much longer. "Return to the dark or I will not hesitate to send you there myself."

"And I will not ask again for you to stand aside," Hornet warned, her words coming out in a threatening hiss as she hefted her needle and took an aggressive stance. Honestly, of all the days for Dryya to let her own personal biases get in Hornet's way, this had to be the most ill-timed.

The Great Knight responded in kind, drawing her nail and posing on the offensive. There really was no time for this, and if Hornet was entirely honest with herself, she would have known picking a battle with Dryya was one she could not hope to win, not at her current level of training. Still, she would not back down after traversing the whole of Hallownest just to be stopped at the very entrance of her destination by a stupid bug with as much chivalry and grace as a primal aspid.

Hornet hissed a final threat and readied her blade.

"Dryya."

The Great Knight had reared back to strike but paused before the action could be seen through at the sound of her master's voice. With only the smallest of glances back to the cocoon behind her, Dryya gasped, "My Lady?"

The air grew still, and Hornet could feel the voice that spoke prickle uncomfortably against her chitin like a charged lumafly. "Let the Child pass."

"My Lady–!" Dryya began to argue, but the voice that sounded so gentle on the surface and yet held something so sharp and dangerous underneath interrupted.

"It is alright. I will speak with her."

The Great Knight fixed the whole of her glare to Hornet once more, held her position for a moment longer, and then stiffly lowered her nail and stepped to the side.

Hornet did not return the gesture with her own look of self-satisfaction, but she did not offer her thanks, either. She'd already wasted enough time as it were, and she did not need to waste any more on meaningless civility.

She brushed past the Fiercest of Knights and entered the White Lady's cocoon.

It was dark when she first came inside, but the further inward she went the more the winding hall began to glow with that familiar pale light. At one time it had brought Hornet comfort; she wasn't sure what exactly it brought her now.

Though she'd been in the White Lady's presence many times, her illumination always gave Hornet pause upon first glance. The central room the Queen was seated in was tall enough to accommodate her size, but still not large enough to house the full extent of her branches, many of which had spread out from holes in the cocoon's surface or burrowed deep into the earth below.

Never had Hornet known the White Lady to be anything short of striking and ethereal, forever bathed in that godly light. But seated before her now, the Lady's light shone more like a radiant warning than a comforting glow.

It made her sick.

"You have traveled far, Child," the White Lady greeted, her voice a soft hum that often lulled those who heard it into a state of tranquility. Today, it only served to grate against Hornet's nerves all the more.

"The security of Hallownest demanded it," she responded with little patience. "I'm sure you heard what I have already told your Knight outside."

"Indeed," the White Lady confirmed. "You have come to tell me of my Wyrm and His court's sudden vanishing, haven't you?"

Hornet paused, but only allowed her shock to delay her for a moment. "So, you already know of His abandonment of His kingdom? Of His abandonment of us?"

The White Lady dipped her head in affirmation, the branches of her crown groaning with the movement as they readjusted themselves in the walls of the cocoon. "I have known for a long time now that it would come to this."

Hornet sucked in a breath, her eyes widening as she attempted to steady herself. She had feared such a response, but still held onto some small hope that her worries would be baseless. "And you did not see fit to stop Him? The Infection has returned, and it will only grow more potent with time. What of the future casualties? What of Hollow?"

"The Hollow Knight was doomed to fail from the beginning," the White Lady whispered. "It was only suited to delay the inevitable."

For a moment, Hornet could not think of a response. Surely, she had misunderstood. If the White Lady spoke true, that meant the Pale King's plan had been folly from the very beginning. This couldn't be what the Lady meant, could it? Hornet felt her needle rattling in her grip, shaking with the force of her quickly fraying nerves. Taking another breath, she hesitantly gasped, "Are you telling me this had all been for nothing?"

The White Lady didn't immediately answer, her roots shifting in an unfelt breeze. "My Wyrm had hoped that His Vessel would be pure enough, despite the warnings His foresight gave. I would not argue Him this after everything He did for His people, and the good faith He acted in to provide them a salvation."

"Then why isn't He here now?!" Hornet demanded, taking a step forward further into the room. "If He knew Hollow could only hold Her back for a time, why didn't He prepare for when that time came?"

"He did."

Hornet retreated her step, feeling as if she had been struck. That had to be a jest. "And what exactly do you mean by this?"

"My Wyrm prepared for this day by Sealing Himself and His court into a realm where She cannot reach," the White Lady explained. "He will not be touched by Her influence there."

"You're saying He fled to save Himself and leave the rest of us to die, then," Hornet spat. "That He is a coward and a liar?"

"Your Father is no coward," the Lady spoke, her voice stiffening into something closely resembling offense. "And He is no liar. His people needed hope – to keep Her away from their dreams – and that is exactly what He gave them. But as the Pure Vessel grew it soon became apparent to myself that it would not last against Her, and though my Wyrm did not want to believe it He realized this too. But He could not take that hope away, and He could also not let Her Infection reach His court."

"Better us than Him, is that it then?" Hornet asked. "Better to sacrifice the people than let their King fall, is that what you're saying?"

"The Radiance cannot be allowed to implant Herself in the minds of those Higher," the White Lady stated. "The calamity of such an outcome would far outweigh the loss of our people."

Hornet almost laughed, would have if she did not already find her breath coming with great difficulty. "I see," she said, bowing her mask instead and loosening her grip on her needle. "So, that's how it is."

The room creaked with the sound of the Lady's roots relaxing. "I am glad that you understand, Child."

Hornet didn't bother correcting the title. The White Lady wasn't the mother with whom she wanted to share her newly given name. That mother was gone. "If it is imperative the Radiance does not Infect Higher Beings, then why did you not remain by the Pale King's side?" she asked instead.

The White Lady lowered her head. "It is my duty to remain, in preparation of the day in which one who could supplant the Pure Vessel may arrive."

Many things the White Lady had now spoken of shook Hornet to her core, but this statement alone made her insides grow still. "What?"

"Many Vessels were created," the White Lady said. "They were not all disposed of upon choosing the Pure Vessel. There is still hope more may ascend and replace that which is failing."

Hornet started to speak, paused to swallow whatever feelings had threatened to crawl out of her, and warily tried again. "The Abyss was sealed. Even if Vessels still survive in that place, they would not have a way of escape."

The White Lady did not respond.

"The Abyss was sealed," Hornet repeated. "Yes? There are no other entrances there aside from the central one in the Ancient Basin, correct?"

"You would be correct," the White Lady agreed. "If not for others having been made since its sealing."

However much Hornet's claws had relaxed in her shock earlier were doubly clenched in her disbelief now. "Explain."

"The Pure Vessel fails now because of a thought instilled within its mind in the past," the White Lady answered. "Though I cannot say for certain on whom to place the blame, I believe it was influenced too heavily by those whom surrounded it in its upbringing. The other Vessels would not have received the same influences; thus, they may still be untainted."

The White Lady paused, as if expecting a response. But Hornet remained still, waiting with bated breath for her next words.

With a small sigh, the White Lady continued. "After the Sealing, as my Wyrm began to feel Her influence return despite the Hollow Knight's containment, He devised a way that we could ensure its replacement upon failure. My roots have traveled far, and they have touched that place shrouded in the darkness opposed. If any Vessels heard my call, they would soon come forth to bear their duty. That is why I wait here."

Hornet's mask lowered, but her hold on her weapon did not relent, and she spoke with a voice dangerously quiet. "Exactly how long did you know Hollow would fail?"

The roots that anchored the Lady to the earth rumbled softly as they spread forward, reaching out gently towards Hornet. "I began to see it when you entered our lives, my Child."

Hornet's mask shot up, her needle slashing out before her in warning to the roots daring to approach. "I am not your child, and the Pale King is not a father I recognize. I am a child of the Beast and one willingly loaned to the Hive, not something for you to claim. You tell me that the great plan your Wyrm devised was never fated to succeed, that the sacrifices made by my sibling and my mother were for nothing, and you dare to call me yours?!"

The White Lady's roots recoiled slightly before reaching out again, almost tentative, but Hornet took a step back, rejecting whatever comfort they wished to offer.

"If the Vessels could fail so easily why did you create them?" she asked. "Why would you sacrifice your own spawn for a future that cannot be attained? You let my mother bargain her life for my own and yet her sacrifice will not protect us, so why then did you not stop this when you still could?!"

"The cost of a few lives did not outweigh the hope for the salvation of all of Hallownest," the White Lady started.

"It was the Pale King who told me the Vessels were thousands, not a mere few," Hornet snapped.

"And those children were dead before their lives had even begun," the Lady continued, her familiar gentle tone almost gone in the subtle shift of her blunted words. "Our Pure Vessel may have been a failed creation and possessed some manner of internal considerations, but it was never a living thing. Its life was not one to mourn."

"You speak of them as if they are already lost," Hornet spat.

"If Her Infection now spreads across the land again as you say, then it undoubtedly is," she answered, her voice lowered to a murmur.

Hornet glared at the Being before her, a figure she had once upon a time regarded with so much wonder and affection.

Those feelings were yet another thing Hallownest took from her.

"Is there nothing you will do, then?" Hornet asked, the passion that had laced her words before now gone and replaced with a colder detachment. The fire that had burned in her heart was quickly diminishing, and it was becoming apparent that Pale Beings had no longer earned the honor of its bite.

"I will wait here and fulfill my duty," the White Lady said. "As I know you will fulfill your own."

Hornet huffed an agitated breath, raising her needle to place it against her back as she turned to leave. Too long had she spent in this poisonous cocoon. "I will fulfill the duty I owe to those I love; it is not one that will be of concern to you."

If Hallownest's monarchs would not take responsibility for its people in the days to come, Hornet would do it herself.

"Child," the White Lady called after her as she reached the entrance to the central room. Hornet paused in her steps but did not look back to face her. "If fate would have it that you cross paths with one of your siblings along the road, remember that whatever life you might wish to see in them has long since been purged. They may be fallible, but they are still of Void. Consider this before you allow your affections to cloud your judgment."

Hornet did not respond for a long moment, holding herself rigidly in the entryway to the Lady's self-imposed prison. What a terrible place, the Queen's Gardens, to damn yourself for the rest of a life.

Perhaps the White Lady had earned that penance, in the end.

"Noted," she answered, making her exit without a single glance behind.

Of all the things the White Lady did earn, a final look back had not been one of them.