Blaine shuddered and shouted, his voice burning with fervent anger. It was a cruelty more harrowing than death by torture. How could a sentient creature commit something so inhumane?
“Basil, don’t worry. I’ll save everyone. I promise.”
“Blaine, they’re strong—and ruthless. You won’t stand a chance. You should run too.”
Blaine gently took hold of the trembling hand clinging to his collar, his voice calm and soft, coaxing with quiet resolve.
“Basil, I’m a honeybee. A honeybee can’t live apart from its hive.”
“Blaine…”
The little honeybee whimpered, voice quivering as though it held back tears. Even the Queen had been captured—those bastards had dragged her away to some other place.
“Do you know where they’ve taken the Queen?”
“Hngh… I don’t know, Blaine… I don’t kno-oow!”
“Shh, shhh, don’t cry, okay? Basil, don’t cry.”
Startled by Basil’s sudden wail, Blaine hurriedly tried to comfort him. Something stirred in the corner—a tawny lump that had been curled up, possibly awakened by the noise.
“The Queen… she’s upstairs.”
“Gasp—Banata?! You…”
Banata, who used to constantly brag and act superior, was visibly gaunt. The plump cheeks he had once so proudly flaunted at Blaine were now sunken, and his once-large, round eyes were shadowed with illness. He looked like a husk of his former self.
“I saw her by accident when I got dragged back after trying to escape. The wasps went through the green door on the third floor, carrying royal jelly salad.”
Only the Queen honeybee consumed royal jelly, so that had to be it. Blaine felt his chest tighten. It was likely a natural reaction—an ingrained instinct in all honeybees to protect their Queen.
Can you stand up, Blaine? he asked himself, pulling out the bamboo saw Panthiana had prepared and slicing through the vines with a crisp sawing motion.
“Basil, take this hammer and saw. Free the others and break the window to escape. Those whose wings were cut… if a few of you support them, maybe they can—”
“Why bother taking the bees with cut wings? Even if we make it out safely and return home, we’ll just have to cast them out anyway.”
“…What?”
Blaine froze mid-motion at Banata’s blunt interruption, completely forgetting the vine he was cutting.
“Bees with damaged bodies can’t legally be allowed back into the hive. You know that, Blaine. You always got top marks in law class.”
“I… well, I mean, that’s…”
“Even losing a single finger means instant expulsion. And wings are everything to a honeybee.”
There was not a hint of pity in his voice. He stated it as plainly as if explaining the sun rose in the east.
Banata and Basil weren’t being heartless—it was just the common sense, order, and law of honeybee society. And yet, faced with that absolute logic, Blaine felt as though he’d been struck hard on the back of the head. His hands went limp as he stared ahead in a daze.
“Blaine? What’s wrong—are you hurt?”
“…No.”
Blaine forced his hands to move, mechanically sawing through the rest of the vine. He stumbled to his feet, brushing off the concerned glances from the gaunt bees with a weak excuse about his legs falling asleep from squatting too long.
“Blaine… hic… please, save the Queen…”
He reached for the doorknob, ready to leave, when a tearful voice called out from behind. He couldn’t bring himself to look back. Instead, Blaine just nodded without turning. It felt like a massive lump was stuck in his throat—he couldn’t speak even if he tried.
Drifting like a ghost, Blaine climbed toward the third floor. He thought, Yes, no matter what’s happened, I’m still a honeybee. Even if he were cast out later, as long as he was born a bee, he had a duty to save the Queen. That was the destiny of a honeybee.
They said it was the green door, didn’t they? He passed the row of moldy, cracked, and eerie doors in the corridor, checking the color of each one. Then, suddenly, heavy footsteps thudded from up ahead. Panicking, Blaine squeezed himself into a narrow gap between two hallways.
“That butterfly they caught is something else, huh? I wanna get a look at that face.”
“Keep dreaming. They took it to one of the high-level rooms—only the top brass can go in. You know, the one behind that bright red door!”
“My card doesn’t give me access to that place… Tch. Shame.”
“Only the elites get to have fun. I heard it’s got snow-white hair.”
The wasps walked right past the spot where Blaine was hiding. He sucked in a sharp breath, not daring to make a sound. Luckily, they were too busy chatting to notice him.
Even after the wasps had long since passed, Blaine remained frozen, holding his breath. Finally, he tried to wriggle out of the gap—but he couldn’t. He’d forced his body into the narrow space, barely wide enough for a smaller creature. When he’d squeezed in earlier, he’d been holding his breath, but now that he’d exhaled, his chest had expanded. His broad chest was now jammed tight between the walls.
“Damn it… Should’ve skipped dinner!”
As he sat there wedged between the walls, regret gnawed at him like bone-deep pain. He thought back to all the carefree days spent eating and playing without a second thought. When he finally managed to wrench himself free, his round chest was swollen and bright red. He’d probably bruise.
He’d almost died, wedged in a wall, before even rescuing his comrades. What a humiliating way to go. The mere thought gave him chills.
He had wasted a fair bit of time, but fortunately, the third floor seemed empty now. No, perhaps “fortunate” wasn’t the right word. With no more obstacles on the floor, Blaine now stood at a crossroads.
Should he check the green door where the Queen was supposedly held? Or the red one first?
Red? Or green?
“……”
Blaine stood frozen in thought. Then, his eyes steeled with determination as he swallowed hard. For all his hesitation, he strode forward without a moment’s doubt.
He grabbed the doorknob, twisted it hard, and slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. As he turned to see what—or who—was in the room, that moment felt endlessly long.
And when he laid eyes on the unexpected figure, Blaine’s eyes went wide with shock.
Then, an expression of deep dismay spread across his face.
Ah, crap. I completely forgot… Banata’s color-blind…!
***
“Blaine…?”
A clear, crystalline voice rang out, like smooth white pebbles clicking together in a stream. It was a noble tone he had longed to hear for ages—the precious voice of the one he revered. But rather than relief, Blaine felt a deeper panic rise within him as he turned to face the owner of that music-like voice.
“Your Majesty… I hope you haven’t suffered too much—or no, that’s not what I meant…”
I present myself before you. Dropping to his knees and bowing deeply, Blaine was at least grateful he could hide his beet-red face. He trembled, scolding himself. You’ve lost your mind, Blaine! How could he think to check on Hurel’s safety before the Queen’s? He must’ve wandered into the wrong room as divine punishment.
“You must’ve endured so much…”
“Hngh… Blaine…”
The Queen’s voice trembled like the delicate string of a violin, soaked with sorrow, as fragile and pitiful as a bird fallen into the rain. Eyes that sparkled with life, framed by lashes as soft as curtains, shimmered even more beautifully as tears welled in them.
The figure lying across the wooden bed in the room slowly sat up and approached. She was slender but not emaciated, yet still seemed so fragile—as if a breeze might carry her away. That delicate aura seemed to be something she was simply born with.
Unlike most honeybees whose hair was a dull blend of browns and blacks, hers shone like fine gold thread, glimmering with exquisite radiance. Her golden, silk-wrapped irises sparkled like embedded sapphires, unlike Blaine’s deep aquamarine gaze. Her rosy cheeks and exquisitely balanced features evoked both childlike innocence and ethereal beauty—an enchanting purity that stirred the heart.
