Good morning—er, I mean hello, sir—Your Majesty!

Adon stumbled over the realizations that it might not be morning anymore and that the intimidating figure he was speaking to was probably the King.

Fortunately, the man he was speaking to did not seem to mind.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Adon,” the King said. “You must have had quite an—” he paused to search for the proper word—“experience with your chrysalis. I hope you will enjoy the palace. Think of yourself as an honored guest. You are, of course, free to roam as you wish, or to leave anytime you desire.”

Thank you, Your Majesty, Adon sent after carefully considering his words. I will try to behave appropriately to your expectations, so that you will not regret extending your hospitality.

“You do not need to be so formal,” the King said. “You can call me Alistair. Our view of butterflies—”

Suddenly, Adon sensed motion to his left, and the King fell silent, his mouth gaping slightly.

Is it the Princess? Adon wondered, careful not to send the thought. He did not know Rosslyn’s medical situation in any specifics, and he did not want to upset the King.

“She appears to be waking up,” King Alistair said under his breath. “For the first time since she made it home. This is—did you…?”

He looked back and forth from Adon to the Princess indecisively for a moment, then glanced back at Adon one more time.

“My apologies, Adon, but I may wish to ignore you for a few minutes,” he finally added. “I hope you understand. My daughter has been ill, and she seems to be recovering at last.”

He stepped to the side, toward his daughter’s bedside, and his body dipped down until it rested in a chair.

Adon resumed what he had been about to do before the King spoke: pulling himself out of the chrysalis. Now he had a new motivation. He wanted to see what was going on with Rosslyn.

His body remained weak, so it took him a few seconds, but crawling out of the chrysalis was not close to as hard for Adon as breaking through the side of it had been. He pulled slowly but steadily, with all six legs clinging to the smooth edges of the hole he had made. Then he was out, standing on top of the slowly withering husk of his chrysalis.

He could turn his head from side to side and see the whole room. He could tell he would not be able to fly yet. Without even looking, he simply felt that his wings were not ready. Too wet or still a bit weak. That did not matter for now, though. He did not need to go anywhere.

Adon turned to look down at Rosslyn, who was moving more quickly now, sitting up and pulling at the strips of bandage that covered her eyes.

No one had been on the other side of the room when he looked, just a made up bed.

“I am glad you are with us again,” King Alistair said gently, placing a hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

“Of course, father,” Rosslyn said. “Where else would I be?” She was clearly trying to emulate her normal speaking tone, but her voice shook as the words came out. It was apparent that she was not quite well yet. As she finished her question, the bandages came off. “Who else—”

Her voice broke off, and Adon could see why. Where the bandages had been, he could see her eyes, blinking slowly open and shut over and over.

But nothing her eyelids could do would change what had happened to her right eye. The iris had turned a startling gray-white color. Adon could see it was not adjusting its size to reflect the light in the room, unlike her healthy eye. A hair-thin scar across a small area of her forehead and cheek—the space where the blade had cut her before reaching her eye.

Rosslyn’s face looked pale and almost panicked as she realized what had happened.

“Blind.” She mouthed the word. Then she shook her head dismissively, as if the loss of her vision in one eye was unimportant.

“Father, I think I told someone before, but Lord Baranack—”

“We know, Rosslyn,” the King said. “The knight you told before you collapsed brought word to us. Then Carolien woke up, and she corroborated it.” He took her hand. “You should rest for now. You have been through a great deal of late.”

“No—we have to prepare—” Rosslyn looked around as if trying to take in everything in her surroundings more carefully. “Who else is here? I cannot reveal—” Her eyes locked onto Adon. “Oh! You made it into the palace somehow, then.”

Adon was about to reply, when he heard a cry from the door.

“Praise the Goddess! The Princess is awake!”

All heads turned to a woman poking her head around the door’s edge. From her clothing, Adon took her to be a servant of some sort.

“I am alive, yes!” Rosslyn called back, smiling and plainly trying to look cheery.

There was a hubbub for several minutes as a number of people Adon thought were servants, cooking staff, and gardeners found excuses to appear near the doorway, lay eyes on the Princess, and extend their well wishes. The commotion fed on itself as more people heard that Rosslyn was all right, so that it took quite a while for the hall to quiet.

Adon heard the King quietly ask Rosslyn if she wanted him to tell them to clear out, but she shook her head, smiled, and continued replying to greetings and polite questions about how she was doing.

How does she stand this much attention? Adon thought. If it were him in the bed, he would have asked the King to send them away already. I guess I should be grateful Rosslyn woke up just now. The way she and the King talk about butterflies, I feel like we’re supposed to be kind of special. Maybe it could have been me getting all these people staring at me like I’m magical. Then again, I guess I am magical, but that’s sort of normal for this world, right? At least for some people. Probably not for insects. I only ever met the Wasp Queen who could do magic, and she was clearly another reincarnator.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Um, Your Highness, did it hurt, what happened to your eye?”

Adon tuned back in. A boy—perhaps around thirteen years old—who looked to be dressed in basically the same outfit as the kitchen staff—had gone off script. Instead of simply asking after the Princess’s health, he had asked about the affected eye.

I wonder how she’ll react to that. Adon thought he himself would probably say something incomprehensible—because poorly thought out and suffering from nerves—and then get up and slam the door in the faces of all the well-wishers.

He already almost wanted to crawl back into his chrysalis just from standing in the reflected spotlight that was focused on the Princess. The only reasons Adon continued to expose himself to public view at all was that his wings were still drying out, his body was clearly getting stronger by being outside of the chrysalis and under more direct sunlight, and he wanted to be able to fly sooner rather than later.

Instead, Rosslyn smiled, and it seemed to Adon the most genuine smile he had seen from her since she had awakened. “It did hurt, but you should have seen what I did to the assassin!”

The gathered members of staff quietly applauded. King Alistair used the interruption in questions as an opportunity to break up the impromptu assembly.

“All right, I think that will be enough questions,” the King said, smiling. “The Princess needs quiet so that she can fully recover.” His smile tightened. “It should go without saying that word of her recovery, as with word of her illness, should not leave this building.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!” rang the chorus of servants.

“Please make certain that everyone else knows, too. Some of you stopped in to check on the Princess and then returned to normal duties. I would not want any misunderstandings.” There was a slightly threatening undertone to his voice that Adon found chilling. From his first good look at the King, he knew that this man, though he seemed kind, was also very dangerous.

“Um, do you want anyone to do anything for the butterfly there, Your Majesty?” A woman dressed as a servant—Adon thought she might have been the first to speak up and notice that Rosslyn had recovered—pointed at Adon.

The King responded by interposing his body between Adon and the servant. It was a seemingly casual movement, but Adon thought the King was trying to prevent anyone from having a good look at him. Perhaps trying to keep people from using Identify on him. The King had mentioned Adon’s species name earlier, and his voice had conveyed a sense of importance about it.

“The butterfly is just fine for now, Bernadette, but thank you for asking. You know how the Princess loves nature. I thought having a pet nearby would be good for her recovery.”

Interesting. Why is the King lying? That’s definitely not the way he’s been thinking about this, unless I’m totally misreading everything he’s said.

“Is there something wrong with its wings?” Another female voice spoke up. “The color—”

Wait. Is there something wrong with my wings?

Adon had not had a moment to fully examine himself since he emerged from the chrysalis. He had been engaged with the King and the Princess and then busy watching the small crowd that had gathered after that.

Now he took a moment to look behind him, at his wings.

Ohhhh. I see.

Adon’s wings were completely and perfectly transparent. It was as if he was staring through an incredibly thin pane of glass. Somehow, he felt underwhelmed.

Maybe there is something wrong with them… But then, maybe it’s just typical of my species type. Adon made a mental note to check his Status as soon as he was alone.

He looked down at his body, which was not transparent, but was a strange, silvery gray color that appeared to be reflective. With the short spines poking out of his sides, he appeared as if anything that touched him might come away with metal splinters embedded in it.

This can’t be right, can it? I look like I might have been exposed to nuclear radiation or something. It’s not exactly ugly, I don’t think, but it’s not really what I expect a butterfly to look like. Wasn’t I supposed to be colorful? I had an image of myself sort of pretty, almost glowing with colors. I guess I can probably still change it if I want to, unless I lost that ability in Evolution.

“There is nothing wrong with the butterfly, thank you, Celeste,” the King said, cutting the servant off. “If there is, we will figure it out.”

“But Your Majesty—”

“For right now, I must insist on privacy,” he interrupted. “We will certainly let you know when we need your assistance, and I am certain the Princess is eager to become reacquainted, but I do not wish to further test her recovery.”

He stepped forward, and the gathered people retreated away from the doorway. Then he closed the door.

As the King resumed his position in the chair beside Rosslyn’s bedside, he let out a slow, soft, exasperated sigh.

“Goddess,” he muttered. “Can we not have half an hour to ourselves?” He looked over at Adon. “I hope you will be all right with the attention,” he added. “With luck, they will gossip about Rosslyn and not about you. We have easy answers if anyone asks questions about her condition. I do not know that there is a way we can explain where you came from that does not raise further questions.”

I am not entirely certain where I came from myself, Your Majesty, Adon sent. I mean, my species' origin is a mystery. I know that I lived another life before this one—He broke off, realizing he was probably oversharing. The King had not asked him any personal questions, after all.

But King Alistair was simply nodding, his expression suggesting that he was absorbing the information calmly.

“Very interesting,” he said. “I wonder if this is a common circumstance among previous mystic beasts. We have a few texts on the history of your predecessors, though I have not had any cause to consult them in many years.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “In truth, I have never truly had cause to wonder about the nature of mystic beasts. I was merely curious, and perhaps grasping at straws, looking for anything that might increase the security of the state. There are many legends about other butterflies like you, you know. How they have appeared at pivotal moments in the nation’s history.”

“Father, I do not mean to interrupt,” Rosslyn said. “I am also very interested in the reasons behind Adon’s appearance at the present time. However, I had more information to share than Lord Baranack’s treachery. Um, secret information. Best not said in a room vulnerable to eavesdropping.”

What, from me? Adon thought.

“No, not from you, of course,” Rosslyn hastened to add. Adon realized he had sent that last thought telepathically.

Oh, please do not mistake me as having been offended, Adon replied carefully. I was just surprised.

“No, the problem is that this room is not secure,” Rosslyn said. “We had a spy in our midst before, and I suspect there may be others, not as highly placed, who might be interested in hearing what else we have to say.”

“Perhaps we could move the conversation to that other place, then,” the King said in a confidential tone. He turned to Adon. “I hope you will not mind us leaving you here on your own.”

I don’t mind, Adon sent. Only, I am wondering, did you happen to encounter a spider when you found me, Your Majesty? My friend Goldie was probably sticking very close by. Maybe she could keep me company while you and the Princess go over the secret information.

“Oh. Yes.” The King’s face took on a chagrined expression.