At three months, she understood Lusha's approach to childcare was... unconventional.
"Babies need to learn independence early," she explained to Kofery one afternoon. They were in the nursery. Hania was on the floor, attempting to grab a toy that Lusha had placed just slightly out of reach.
"She's three months old," Kofery protested.
"Exactly. In spider culture, by three months, children are already learning to hunt small prey."
"She's not a spider!"
"No, but the principle applies. She needs to understand cause and effect." Lusha watched as Hania stretched her tiny arm toward the toy, her fingers grasping at air. "See? She's problem-solving."
"She's getting frustrated!"
"Frustration leads to innovation."
Hania made an angry sound and flopped onto her stomach, glaring at the toy. This is bullshit. Just give me the damn toy. My arms are like six inches long. The physics don't work.
"She's giving up!"
"No, she's regrouping. Watch."
Hania pushed herself up slightly, shifted her weight, and managed to roll closer to the toy. Her hand closed around it triumphantly. Ha. Take that, spider woman. I win.
"See?" Lusha said, smiling. "Success through effort. That's how you build confidence."
"You could have just given her the toy!"
"And she would have learned nothing." Lusha picked Hania up, toy and all. "Human parents coddle too much. You wonder why your children take so long to develop basic survival skills."
She has a point.
"Survival skills?! She's a baby! She doesn't need to survive anything! She needs to be safe and happy!"
"She can be both. My children learn self-sufficiency early, and they're perfectly happy."
"Your children eat their siblings!"
"Only the weak ones."
...Excuse me... What?
Kofery made a strangled sound and left to find Dravin.
Hania looked up at Lusha, who was still holding her. Lusha looked back, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. "Don't worry, little moon," she said quietly, in a tone that suggested she knew Hania could understand every word. "I won't make you eat anyone. You're not a spider. You get different lessons."
Different lessons. Why does that sound ominous?
Lusha carried her to the window, where afternoon light streamed in. "You know," she said conversationally, "I can tell you're different. The way you watch people and track movement. The way your eyes focus when someone attractive walks past."
What. No. I don't...
"Oh, don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." Lusha's smile widened. "I've lived over four hundred years. I've seen all kinds of souls in all kinds of bodies. Yours is... older than this flesh, isn't it?"
Hania went very still. How does she know?! How much does she know?!
"I won't tell anyone," Lusha continued, her voice almost a purr. "It's much more fun this way, watching you struggle with baby limitations while your mind races ahead." She tapped Hania's nose gently. "I can see that spark in your eyes, little moon. Just grow a little. I'll teach you, little by little. After all, I am your nanny."
My nanny is going to enable me. She's going to make me worse.
Lusha laughed, as if she could read Hania's thoughts. "We're going to have so much fun together," she said.
At six months, the teething started suddenly.
One day Hania was fine. The next day she was a tiny demon who wanted to bite everything. The chalk. Her toys. Kofery's fingers when he tried to feed her. "Ow! Little moon, please don't—OW!"
Lusha found it hilarious. "She's just exploring her new teeth. It's natural."
"She bit through my glove!"
"Then wear thicker gloves."
Sorry, Kofery. You're collateral damage. I can't control the teething urge. But also, your fingers were right there.
Even the spiders weren't safe. One of Lusha's grandchildren made the mistake of crawling onto Hania's hand. She bit it. The spider made an indignant clicking sound and scurried away.
"Well," Lusha said, watching this, "that one learned a valuable lesson about personal space."
But the real incident happened during training. It was a bad day. Her gums ached. The chalk was boring. She'd been drawing circles for six months and they still looked like sad, wobbly attempts at geometry. And her father just kept handing her chalk and walking away like that was sufficient interaction.
She was in a mood. Dravin was crouching near one of the magical formations on the floor, examining something, his back to her. His hair fell over his shoulder in a perfect way. His hands moved over the formation with elegant gestures.
Stop noticing how nice his hands are. He's your father. That's weird. But also, objectively, those are very nice hands. Long fingers. Controlled movements. Stop. Bad brain. Illegal thoughts.
She crawled over to him quietly. Her baby body was good for stealth, at least. He didn't notice. He was too focused on whatever magical theory he was contemplating, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She reached his side and looked up at him.
He glanced down. "What?"
She smiled. A smile with intent. This is for everything you've done to me until now and for having the audacity to look like a romance novel cover while treating me like a science experiment. This is revenge.
And she bit his hand hard, with her new, sharp little teeth, right on the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger.
Dravin jerked his hand back, staring at the small but definite bite marks. A tiny drop of blood welled up.
Yes. Bleed, my father dearest. Feel pain. Acknowledge my existence.
He looked at his hand, then at her. She was still smiling—a satisfied, smug, and vindicated smile. I just made the great Archmage Dravin Kuro Noctis bleed. I'm a legend. I'm unstoppable. This is the best day of my life.
His expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes, maybe the faintest bit of amusement. "You bit me," he said.
Damn right I did. And I'd do it again. I have teeth now. You have no idea how long I've been planning this. Ever since the first tooth came in, I've been waiting for the perfect moment.
But he did something unexpected. He smirked—just a tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth that made him look even more unfairly attractive and somehow made her more furious. Why the hell are you smiling?
"Vindictive," he said. "I didn't expect that trait to manifest this early." He stood up, still looking at the bite mark. "Efficient use of available resources for retaliation. Calculated timing. Element of surprise." He wrapped a cloth around his finger. "I suppose that's... acceptable."
Acceptable?! I bit you! You're supposed to scold me or something! Not analyze my attack strategy like it's a thesis!
But he just walked over, picked her up, and carried her back to her starting position. He set her down and handed her the chalk again. "Draw," he said. But this time, before he walked away, he looked at her directly. "Next time you want my attention," he said quietly, "try using your magic instead of your teeth. More effective, less likely to draw blood. Though I appreciate the initiative."
Did he just give me advice on how to attack him more effectively?! What kind of father does that?
And then he left. Hania sat there, chalk in hand, her baby brain trying to process what had just happened. This family is insane.
From the doorway, Lusha's voice floated in, laced with amusement. "Well done, little moon. I approve."
Oh God, she was watching.
Lusha appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a knowing smile. "You know," she said, "in spider culture, biting is a sign of affection. But the way you did it?" She laughed. "That was pure aggression. You've been holding that grudge for months, haven't you?"
...maybe.
"Good. Never let them think you're harmless just because you're small." She walked closer, crouching down to Hania's level. "Though I have to say, the way you were looking at his hands before you bit him was very interesting."
No. Nope. We're not discussing that.
"Oh, we will. Eventually. When you can talk." Lusha's eyes gleamed. "Just remember: appreciation is natural. Acting on it while you're in a baby body would be problematic. But thinking about it?" She winked. "That's between you and your conscience. And me. Because I can read you like a book."
And she left.
Hania sat there in the training room, alone with her chalk and her thoughts, slowly dawning horror creeping in. I'm doomed. She's going to be the worst influence. Truck-kun, I miss you. Believe me or not, I tried to stay pure in my thoughts, but the universe just doesn't want that. Is it my fault? You have to understand.