Once upon a time, in the lands surrounding the kingdom of Chiltonton, an unhappy tailor sat by his window. The music of every performer in town could be heard from every corner of his hovel, but Herdon was not happy. Not happy at all. Because Herdon was not a part of the celebrations. All of the townspeople gathered alongside the joyous King and Queen, celebrating the birth of a child. A prince. But Herdon was not there. He sat alone at the kid-sized chair his father had made, drinking from a petite goblet filled with nothing more than water. Not the mead that filled the cups of all of the guests at the celebration. No. For Herdon was never invited to the celebrations of his town. No one thought to tell him of parties, performances or festivals. Herdon knew that he was not wanted, but still he dreamed. 


It was that dream spoken aloud that day of the Prince's birth that brought her forth. At first Herdon did not see her, caught a glimpse of something dark skittering across the floor. But moments later he heard her, rather heard a small voice coming from his sleeve, but that voice was clear and strong.


"I know how to you can become a part of the party, Herdon. I know how you can become an invited guest to all of the parties."


"What... who?" He twisted and turned in his tiny chair, wriggling around to find the voice that spoke.


"Here, look down here on your sleeve. It is I, Matilda. I am the one who spoke to you."


So Herdon looked to his arm, and there he saw the most hideous spider. Her dark, black body betrayed a single red mark on the back. She looked up at Herdon and she began to speak again.


"I know how you can become a part of the celebration, making friends with all of the people in the village and the King and Queen at the same time."


"What's that you say? How can something as small as a spider solve my problems?"


"I have a special thread for you, Herdon. A silken thread of great strength and even greater beauty. My thread woven by your capable hands can weave the most beautiful blanket. A gift for the Prince. Don't you think that can help you?"


"Where do you hide this thread? You carry nothing on top of you."


"The thread spins inside my body, and I share it only with tailors of the highest skill. Are you a tailor of the highest skill, Herdon?"


"Why yes, yes I am. What do you ask for this special thread? I have no money, nor anything to trade. So, why give this thread to me, spider?"


"Because you are an artist. Capable of rendering my thread into a fine gift. A gift worthy of a Prince. I ask only one favor in exchange for weaving you my silken threads. Do you accept?"


"Yes, of course. What is your favor?"


"I ask to ride in your pocket on the day you gift the blanket to the Prince. I want to see the joy my thread brings the baby who will be King."


So the tailor and the spider worked. Hours of labor in his tiny little hovel. The day came when the blanket was finished, and as the spider promised, it was the most beautiful blanket the tailor had ever seen. So, he wrapped the special gift, anticipating the kindnesses the King and Queen would bestow, and he tucked the spider into his pocket for the journey. Because Herdon always kept his promises. 


The King and Queen were overjoyed when they saw the blanket, marveling at the way the light reflected off the iridescent threads. But none of them noticed a small blur of black scurrying across the floor, and over to the bed of the future King. No one noticed but Herdon and by then he knew he was too late. 


Apparently listening to a talking spider that offers to fulfill all of your dreams is unwise. Who knew?