Rosslyn’s body crackled with the fire that still blazed all around her as she thought for a moment about what Adon had just said.

The adrenaline was still flowing through her, amping her up.

It was fun being in a sort of quasi-sparring session again.

Her senses were all heightened, her body was losing the rust that it had accumulated from her long sleep quickly—and Adon wanted to quit.

All right, she thought. But it wasn’t quite.

Is he truly tired, or is this about my missing eye? Rosslyn could not help noticing that Adon was calling for the break right after one of his flame attacks almost struck her in the face—or seemed to get close to striking her face.

In fact, although the attack had come from her blind spot, she’d had no trouble blocking it. Though it was a reminder of her defect. She had to rely on her thermoception sense—her ability to sense heat—to know exactly when to block.

She had batted the attack away with her sword when it was just a few inches from her face. But back when she was whole, she probably would have allowed it to get even closer. Trusted her sword technique more. Simply being able to see the attack coming was easier for her.

Even though she was magically an order of magnitude more powerful than Adon, he had still managed to make her feel slightly clumsy.

Rosslyn seriously considered asking him outright if he was trying to take it easy on her. It was a little insulting, for someone with her technique and experience.

Mainly, it made her feel a little insecure, because it felt justified, despite his relative weakness. Rosslyn was also much weaker than she had once been. Less precise.

Adon’s instincts were good. I am not what I was…

The thought pointed toward some bitter pills she might have to swallow going forward.

But Rosslyn would not confront those right now.

She cut the supply of Mana to her cloak of fire, and the flames began diminishing immediately.

“A break sounds wise,” Rosslyn replied. “We should get you a drink.”

Adon fluttered over to her, the flames around him dissipating as quickly as those around her.

No fermented fruit this time, please, he transmitted. Or maybe very little.

“As you wish,” she said, a smile beginning to form on her lips.

I thought you seemed a little off when we had lunch. She placed the thought at the forefront of her mind, where Adon would be able to easily receive it.

I didn’t mind getting a little tipsy earlier—although it was unintentional, he replied. I think it helped me deal with meeting your family. But I would like to keep my wits mostly about me today. Maybe just a small amount of fermented fruit.

We will strike a balance, then, Rosslyn thought, now fully smiling.

She turned to Sir Jaren, who had stepped closer to the combat circle in the aftermath of both Rosslyn and Adon extinguishing their flames.

“I will get this cleaned up,” he said quietly.

Rosslyn did not need to look around to know what he meant. There would be scorch marks all over the ground and the wall behind her from Adon’s frenzy of attacks.

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

Adon flapped his wings at the corner of her vision and then flitted back up onto her shoulder where he had been perched before the spar.

Um, I hope I’m not imposing, he sent.

She resisted the urge to laugh.

You are fine where you are, but I need to change out of my training gear first.

Adon flew over and landed on the wall nearest them.

Did I do all right for my first time in here, Sir Jaren? she heard him ask. Then Rosslyn dipped back into the other room. There, she undressed, mopped away the sweat from her face and body with a sponge wetted in a basin—she would have liked to take an actual bath after that amount of hot exercise, but Adon was waiting for her—and clothed herself again.

When she came back, Adon and Sir Jaren were talking animatedly. Sir Jaren was doing most of the talking, explaining how combat between humans with magical abilities typically unfolded.

Thank you for the lesson, sir, Adon sent in a respectful tone.

“It was my pleasure, noble creature,” said Sir Jaren, his eyes twinkling.

Rosslyn had nearly forgotten how much her old instructor enjoyed having someone to teach.

Maybe I should arrange for him and Adon to spend more time together. They would probably both enjoy it.

The butterfly fluttered over and landed on her shoulder again.

“Thank you for taking care of us,” Rosslyn said.

She and Sir Jaren waved goodbye, and then she carried Adon to the dining room where he had eaten with her family earlier.

Since it was not supper time yet, the room was vacant.

Rosslyn set Adon down at one of the places and then sent a servant for butterfly-appropriate beverages and Adon’s pillow.

“I hope you are enjoying the palace,” Rosslyn said when she was alone with Adon again.

She was surprised to note some hesitation from him before he answered, but she was reminded of the fact that he was connected to nature in a way that she did not experience as a human.

I am enjoying your company, Princess, Adon sent after a moment. I appreciate the family’s treatment of me, and I am excited to have learned more magic—and magic that can be used offensively now. It is also wonderful that my friends are here. They are like family to me.

“But?” Rosslyn asked.

She could feel a “but” coming.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Just then, the servant she had sent came back in. He carried a platter of drinks in one hand and the pillow tucked under his other arm.

Rosslyn and Adon stopped talking for a few minutes while the servant set everything up. He placed two goblets by Rosslyn’s place.

One was a local wine. The other was one of Adon’s more exotic fermented fruit drinks, which she had decided to try.

By Adon, the servant placed wine, sugar water, flower nectar, and a much smaller serving of two of his fermented fruit drinks than he had consumed before.

Then the servant fluffed Adon’s pillow, Adon moved onto the pillow, and the servant left them alone.

“We were saying,” Rosslyn said.

Adon seemed reticent.

I am hoping to develop the Telekinesis Adaptation that you have mentioned before, he finally sent.

“Do you need different food?” Rosslyn asked.

I think I need it to hunt and gather it myself, Adon replied. I am rewarded differently—and less—when food is given to me as opposed to my hunting it.

“Fascinating,” Rosslyn breathed. “You must have hunted so many other insects to become—” She gestured at his body.

Yes, Adon sent. He seemed to puff himself up slightly as he said that, and Rosslyn smiled again.

It is good to be proud, she thought. Somehow I imagined that the food I brought him in the garden might have made some sort of difference. But it sounds as if his success is self-made, more than anything.

“Now that we know, we can create more conducive circumstances for you. My father has occasionally hunted in the woods nearby. You can find boars there, birds of prey, wolves—almost whatever your heart desires as quarry. There are even dogs kept to flush out the beasts. We could all—”

But Adon seemed to be shaking his head slightly. Perhaps even unconsciously, as if he did not deliberately mean to decline, but in his heart, he wished to refuse.

His posture shifted as he looked at her more directly.

Why did you stop talking? Adon transmitted.

“I feel as if you have something you wish to say,” she replied.

I know I’m not transmitting thoughts accidentally right now, he sent. I haven’t even touched my drinks. And I’m not human. I don’t have a face. So how…?

“Body language,” she said simply.

Now what did you want to say? she wondered.

Rather than asking directly, she sat and waited. She could be patient.

Adon fluttered up to the lip of one of his small, fermented fruit goblets.

Looking for a little liquid courage? Rosslyn thought. I did not think I said anything to make him nervous. This must be something delicate for him.

Adon extended his proboscis and took a sip of the drink before he responded.

Rosslyn picked up the goblet of fermented fruit drink that she had asked for, tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell, and took a cautious drink.

Bleh!

It took all of her self-control not to spit it back out. Finally, she swallowed it down.

“Goddess, I do not know how you can drink this,” she murmured.

Adon looked at her curiously.

It is for butterflies specifically, he replied.

She took a sip of her wine.

Then she gave the foul butterfly brew another quick taste.

Maybe I could get used to this, if I had no other beverages available. She allowed the thought to hit the surface of her mind, where Adon would be able to read it easily.

Adon sent her the telepathic sound of his laughter.

Suddenly I don’t feel so silly, he transmitted.

“What felt silly?” she asked.

I was a little reluctant to tell you this, but when you suggested we all go hunting together, I had a negative reaction, Adon replied.

“I had noticed that.”

It could not have been more noticeable if you had recoiled from a hot stove, she thought quietly, below the surface.

Well, I love being around you and Goldie, Adon sent. I enjoy Samson and the other spiders and the whole Royal Family. But—well, do you ever feel like you need time away from your family? Maybe to get a breath of fresh air, or just to figure things out?

Rosslyn thought about her relationship with her stepmother, sometimes loving, sometimes tense or fractious. She thought about how her trust in her father had been undermined by the recent revelations regarding the various secrets he had kept over the years. She thought of how her younger siblings could sometimes be a handful.

She nodded, half to herself. Yes, she understood the feeling.

“I have had the experience,” she said finally.

Well, I have that feeling about this found family of mine, Adon confided, his tone growing quiet and a little guilty.

He began to explain a little about his relationship with Goldie, his past life relationship with Samson, and the complicated feelings that had been stirred up by Samson having reincarnated soon after Adon and right alongside him.

There was a part of Rosslyn that reflexively thought the Goddess must have a plan by placing Adon and his brother close together, but she had the sense not to say or loudly think that.

Adon was baring a clearly uncomfortable part of his past and his heart to her. Saying something about how the Goddess worked in mysterious ways would be trite and unhelpful—like a slap in the face.

Her butterfly friend was clearly uncomfortable already. As he telepathically spoke, he flitted from the edge of one goblet to another, sipping each of his drinks in turn, his careful approach to consuming the beverages forgotten.

Instead of saying anything back, Rosslyn just nodded along and occasionally sipped her wine or the outrageously tangy fermented fruit beverage.

So, I have conflicted feelings, Adon sent, in what Rosslyn could sense was the beginning of the end of his monologue. On the one hand, I love my brother. I wish him nothing but the best, and I want him to learn everything that he can learn about magic and become an amazing spider that Goldie will be proud of. On the other hand…

Rosslyn thought that Adon had been brave so far, speaking the uncomfortable truth about his own emotions. But there were some thoughts and feelings that were impossible to vocalize.

She did not even vocalize what she thought he was driving at. She left it in the realm of thought.

On the other hand, you do not want to feel that he is taking your place, or that your new life is in any way compromised by him suddenly appearing, she thought quietly. You certainly do not want to carry him along with you while you try to achieve your peak. You do not want to take him along hunting, or help him catch up to you in magic, because this is a you thing, not a group thing.

Adon had visibly deflated as she articulated what she thought he was wrestling with. His wings were slumped like shoulders. He looked ashamed. It was not a posture Rosslyn had ever imagined seeing on a butterfly.

“There is nothing wrong with how you feel,” she whispered.

He tilted his head up as if he needed to see her face better. He was looking for signs of insincerity, she knew intuitively. But he would find none.

Rosslyn reached out a hand and ran the backs of her fingers over Adon’s wings.

“It is all right to be selfish sometimes,” she said. “You have to look out for yourself before you have room to think of anyone else.” As she spoke, the words morphed from a validation of his feelings to a confession of her own. “Selfishly, I would like to keep you around the palace. My father and I have this perhaps strange idea that you will make a great difference in the war to come with the Demon Empire. I know it probably makes no sense to you, because you are a butterfly.”

She shook her head, tried—and failed—to make herself smile, and continued, “I will make certain that Goldie, Samson, and the other hatchlings are taken care of while you adventure alone. We have no right to ask this of you, but I hope you will come back. You owe us nothing, and I cannot articulate a good reason why, except that it might be important for our country. But I hope you will consider it nevertheless.”

Rosslyn took a deep breath. Then she almost added, I suspect the only way for you to truly deal with these feelings is by proximity to Samson.

But although that felt to her like the right approach, she recognized that her reasoning might be self-serving—and just as importantly, the right reasoning for her and not Adon.

So she kept her mouth shut and allowed the butterfly space to mull over his thoughts.