After Rosslyn and the spiders saw Adon take off and begin his open air flight practice, Rosslyn carried the spiders back inside.

She spent another hour working with them, overseeing their magical practice.

She tried to be encouraging, though it naturally felt like somewhat slow going after having witnessed Adon’s exploits. While the butterfly had somehow gotten the basics of fire magic down in a matter of hours, the spiders demonstrated a much more normal pace of development.

They continued working hard at simply moving Mana around the body, getting the fundamentals under better control. To soothe their minds and hopefully help them focus, Rosslyn had a pianoforte brought in, and she played them a composition that she found relaxing.

Rosslyn was pleasantly surprised that her half-blindness did not affect her ability to play the music. Her depth perception did not matter; her fingers remembered where the keys were even if she could not see what one hand was doing some of the time.

When the song ended, she glanced over at the spiders, and seeing that the music appeared to be helping, she started over and played the same piece again. Then she shifted to other compositions by the same artist, a young Parmonian composer named Alfons Gorecki who led the Wayn Philharmonic Orchestra.

After an hour or so of this, Rosslyn herself felt quite relaxed. She had almost forgotten her slight nervousness at Adon’s departure—her concern that she might be in some way disobeying her father by letting him leave.

Then a sharp knock came at the door, jolting Rosslyn out of the piece she was playing.

It was Celeste. “Begging your pardon, Your Highness. Your father, the King, would like to invite you and your guests to come to supper now. The hour draws a bit late.”

Rosslyn noticed for the first time that the quality of the light streaming through the window had faded. The sun was setting.

“We will be right along, Celeste,” Rosslyn replied.

“Is the butterfly coming, as well, Your Highness?” Celeste asked in a guarded tone.

“He will not be,” Rosslyn said slowly. “Has my father asked about him?”

“Not in so many words,” Celeste replied in a low voice. “Not to me, anyway. But I think that a couple of the staff are paying a significant degree of attention to the movements of your friend. And I do not know if they would do that without some inducement or command…”

I see. So, father already knows. He has someone watching Adon—watching all of us? And he did not bother to tell me.

“Thank you for letting me know, Celeste,” Rosslyn said. “I will go and speak to father, and then we will join him for dinner.”

Better not to tell him that Adon is gone in front of the spiders, she thought. I wonder how he will react.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Celeste said. “We will be waiting in the hall when you return.” She curtsied and withdrew.

Rosslyn left the room and knew immediately where she should go to find her father.

She walked down to the palace chapel and found him in the same darkened nook where she had met him when he first explained the security importance of that room—the same place, also, where he had explained some of Adon’s importance.

“It is good to see you,” he said. “How are things going with our arthropod friends?”

He already knew that Adon was gone; Celeste had more or less told Rosslyn that. Was he trying to test Rosslyn’s honesty? Or trying to keep secret that someone had been watching her and the bugs?

She walked toward him down the center aisle of the chapel, approaching until she could get a better look at the expression on his face. As was so often the case with him lately, he looked tired, though still strong.

“The spiders are progressing at a decent pace toward acquiring magic,” Rosslyn said.

“Is Adon well?” he asked.

“Adon is taking the air,” Rosslyn replied.

“It is rather late for that, is it not?” Her father did not pretend to be surprised by this news.

“That depends on who you are,” Rosslyn replied. “For a member of the Royal Family, it might be unusual. For a creature that originates in nature, there would seem to be no right or wrong time to enjoy the outdoors.”

“Will he come in for supper?” The King asked.

“No, father,” Rosslyn said. “He wanted to go hunting.”

“Hunting?” He sounded skeptical.

“Yes, hunting. Adon still wants to get stronger, and he will not improve as quickly if he only eats what we give him.”

“Did he consider that we could bring him beasts to kill?”

“I think—and I may have misunderstood—that he acquires more Evolution Points for performing tasks that are more difficult and dangerous. Every step in the process that we remove for him weakens his eventual outcome. A bit like how you told me, when I was a girl, that I could not cut open the side of a chrysalis to help the butterfly escape. Or it would only come out frail and unable to properly use its body.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Hm. I see. I respect and appreciate Adon’s desire to become stronger as quickly as possible. But I am concerned that he might become much weaker if, for example, something eats him. Even if he had to hunt his prey by himself, could we not have sent soldiers to accompany him? He may hunt alone, but if he appears to become overwhelmed, they could rescue him.”

“I think they would only have slowed him down,” Rosslyn replied. “Adon is stronger than most ordinary soldiers, and he seems to move quickly now that his wings have come in.”

“Is he intent on going a great distance?” her father asked.

The conversation was beginning to feel like an interrogation.

“He said that he would be back within a few days,” Rosslyn said.

The King looked frustrated.

“Hopefully war does not break out before then, and he returns in one piece,” he said after a few seconds of silence.

“I have not sent him into a lion’s den, father,” Rosslyn said as gently as she could. “I only let him go outside.”

He visibly bristled at that comment, and Rosslyn realized that there was a way he might have taken it personally. That was far from her intention. She did not blame her father for what had happened back in the forest.

“I have made more than my share of mistakes as a ruler, but I believe that my position, if nothing else, still merits consultation prior to allowing a national security asset to leave the country.”

I think that would have been a mistake…

“Would you have Adon believe that he needs your permission to go outside?” Rosslyn asked.

That would be the natural result, Rosslyn believed, if she had tried to ensure that Adon did not leave without the King’s permission.

Her father sucked in a sharp breath and pursed his lips.

“I know he is important,” Rosslyn continued, “though we do not necessarily know precisely how yet. But you cannot make someone a friend by making him a prisoner. We need him to know that we are friends, not jailers.”

“We need him as a military asset, not primarily as a friend. If we can befriend him, too, then I am all in favor. He might also be more useful if he sees us as his friends. But the security of over two million of our people rests on those slender wings. The approach that we take to managing Adon must bear that weight in mind. You know how to endear yourself to the soldiers, I know you do. But you would not tolerate a soldier in your command going absent without leave, or not telling you where they would be going or when they would be back, would you?”

Rosslyn sighed. Adon is not my soldier, she wanted to say.

“No,” she admitted. “I had not thought of him as a soldier, but as a foreign prince to be welcomed and negotiated with. I think we should be careful not to be too high-handed with someone whose voluntary alliance we wish to obtain. He will not be any kind of asset if he grows to hate us. I am hopeful that he will come back stronger and more confident for his travels in his new body.”

“I am simply hopeful that he comes back,” replied the King.

Rosslyn chuckled, but her father did not laugh with her. He simply rose from his seat and walked toward her position in the aisle.

“I hope your recovery is proceeding well, at least,” he said, looking down at her thoughtfully with his sharp, slightly narrowed eyes.

“I am improving every day,” Rosslyn replied instantly. “I spent a little time training Adon before he left—”

“Training him in what?” the King asked, surprised.

“Fire magic,” Rosslyn said quietly.

She wondered if he would say something critical of that—they did not usually pass on any magical ability to anyone outside of the family, after all—but when he finally spoke, his reaction surprised her.

“You have been very active in strengthening our friend,” he said, quietly chuckling. “I am glad to hear that you are doing well. Your recovery is my top priority, above everything else.” His expression turned bittersweet. “Even if the Kingdom falls apart, I want my family to be safe,” he added. He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Remember that, if things take a turn for the worse here. I know that you will always fight for our people, but remember that the safety of you and your siblings is more important to me and Carolien than anything else. We have discussed it many times—what we would want our little princes and princesses to do if the worst should happen.”

Her father’s sudden morbid train of thought left Rosslyn far more worried than she had been.

Does he believe he is going to die? How? Is he sick? He is the strongest person I have ever met! He cannot die…

Her expression must have given her thoughts away.

“Please do not be worried,” he said. “I apologize if I gave you cause for alarm. It is just that the next year is so important. The war that we know is coming. Any little thing that goes wrong—” He shook his head—“can send me down a dark path. That is not for you to worry about.”

Yet. Her mind filled in the word as if he had spoken it aloud.

“Let us go to dinner,” he said finally, pulling her forward. She realized she was blocking his forward movement, standing in the middle of the aisle the King was trying to walk down. “Tomorrow, perhaps you should go into the city and choose a fine craftsman to make you an eyepatch.” He ruffled her hair fondly. “I know you love to look your best.”

Rosslyn felt very young again, suddenly. “Perhaps after training,” she said. “I think it is best if I get back into the saddle tomorrow. I intend to spar with Sir Jaren. Hopefully I am not too rusty after a month in bed.”

Hopefully I am not too ineffective and clumsy after the loss of an eye, she thought. She was still getting used to monocular vision. Occasionally, she found herself almost bumping her head, because she strayed too close to an obstacle she would have been able to see if she still had two eyes.

“I hope we can avoid discussing any of this in front of the spiders,” her father said, waving his hand to indicate the chapel. They had reached the entry at this point.

“Of course,” Rosslyn said. “That was why I came to speak with you privately first.”

“I should have known,” the King said, nodding. “That was excellent judgment.”

But paradoxically, as he spoke those words, Rosslyn looked back on the course of their conversation and wondered if she might not be losing her father’s trust in her judgment. Based on Celeste’s hints, he was having either her or the arthropods watched—and had said nothing about it, though he had not tried to conceal the fact either. He seemed to believe her decision to simply let Adon leave the palace was the height of recklessness.

No, she told herself. Even if he is having some doubts, it is probably just this strange melancholy mood that has come over him. If I had started to lose some trust over Adon’s departure, then logically, I should get some of that back when he returns, as I know he will. Everything will be fine. I made the right decision.

Rosslyn allowed her father to lead her to the dinner table, where Goldie, Samson, and the other spiders were already waiting. She did her best to put on a stoic expression, trying not to convey the small conflict that seemed to be brewing between her and her father.

It was nothing that they would need to worry about anyway.