The Duke’s sons were at once less flowery and more flattering than the King had described them, Adon found.
They bowed their heads to Rosslyn at the first encounter, to which gesture she responded with an elegant curtsy.
But once they had all been introduced by the heralds and performed these gestures—Goldie and Samson made tiny bows from their pillows as well, while Adon flew in a ring around the two lords before settling back onto his pillow, a maneuver that was the King’s idea—the Duke’s sons were almost casual.
Casual and complimentary.
“You have grown so much more beautiful since we have been apart,” said William, the older brother, to Rosslyn, giving her what Adon thought was intended to be a beguiling look.
He spoke in Claustrian, but with a strong, rich accent that Adon couldn’t identify—which was natural, since the butterfly had only been incarnated into this world once before as far as he knew, and he had not learned every language and accent in the world on that occasion. Quite the opposite. As a dragon, he was almost solitary.
Is that accent sexy to humans? Adon wondered—and then questioned why he cared.
He was keeping Telepathy deactivated for now, since he was not talking yet, and because he still had not mentioned to Rosslyn how it had strengthened.
“Truly, the Princess has matured like a fine wine,” said Frederick, the younger brother, who seemed like he was being more polite rather than forward.
Both siblings were classically handsome, with clearly defined jawlines, piercing blue eyes, and thick heads of hair. The younger brother wore it much longer than the older brother—in fact, the younger brother’s hair was only a few inches short of being as long as Rosslyn’s—while the older brother had a high and tight haircut that had only just started to grow back in on the sides. The way the older brother stood also gave off the aura of a soldier, while the younger brother had a more relaxed presence to him.
Since Adon was not using Telepathy to read their minds, he did not know whether they meant their compliments toward Rosslyn or were just trying to be friendly—he did not even know if this constituted “friendly” for nobility and royalty.
Adon looked at Rosslyn. Somehow, she or her maids had covered up any sign that she’d had tears in her eye just minutes before this meeting—assuming that Adon had seen correctly. Her scarred eye was hidden behind an eyepatch matching the color of her skin—an attempt to make the single obvious imperfection in her appearance completely invisible.
Yes, she was definitely pretty. He was still in touch with his humanity enough that he had noticed that in their earlier encounters. His current body did not seem to ascribe much importance to her looks, or their early interactions probably would have been even more awkward than they had been.
Her current outfit did not emphasize her beauty so much as her regal demeanor. It was exactly the sort of princess-like attire that a little girl from one of Adon’s more modern incarnations would want to wear to her birthday party, except all of the fabrics on this one were real rather than imitations. Instead of being a sort of parody of royal fashions, it was the real thing.
A blue silk gown with long draping sleeves and gold and silver threads woven into it in delicate patterns all over it, including an illustration of a butterfly over her bosom. An ermine stole that protected her shoulders from any possibility of chill. A slender silver circlet on her head, a silver necklace around her neck, and a decorative belt set with gems at her waist.
It struck Adon, though not for the first time, that if he was still human, he probably would never have spoken to her. The deterrent factor was not primarily her attractiveness but her aura of untouchability. She was every inch a princess, and he had been not just a commoner in his last life, but a below average commoner.
Back then, I would have trouble approaching a pretty girl even if she was working the checkout counter at a donut place, Adon thought, remembering—but he stopped himself from getting lost in the memory. He needed to be here, in the present moment, right now. Those were the downsides of centuries worth of memories. Always something else to look at, to get lost in, and it was sometimes hard to find what he needed.
There was always somewhere else to turn when he was needed right here.
“You are as kind as I remember, William—and you live up to your reputation, Frederick,” Rosslyn said, smiling politely at the compliments. Adon could not tell if she had flushed slightly at their words or if the effect was produced by rouge. The Princess was wearing makeup now, which she seemed to normally keep to a minimum.
“We are pleased to be favored with a visit from both of you,” Alistair added. Adon noticed that the King’s grin was so large that it looked almost ready to break his face.
“It is a remarkable thing, as well, to learn that the rumors we heard once we entered the palace are true,” William said, turning to look in Adon’s direction. “The return of the mystic beasts was no exaggeration.”
The King nodded and inclined his head for Adon to speak.
All right, just like I rehearsed in my head, the butterfly thought.
He held himself very still and sent, It is a pleasure to make both of your acquaintances. If it pleases my lords to interact on the basis of our given names, it would please me as well. I am called Adon.
He deactivated Telepathy immediately after finishing. There would be no accidental transmissions today—though it was possible, and perhaps even likely, that his control over that aspect of Telepathy had improved now as well.
The King gave Adon a subtle nod.
Stolen novel; please report.
It is likewise a pleasure for myself and my son to meet the two of you, sent Goldie. My name is Goldie.
It is good to meet you both, sent Samson. We have heard nothing but positive reports. My name is Samson, and I hope we will get along well.
Alistair shot Samson a bit of side-eye, probably for going on a little too long or meandering from the formal semi-scripted dialogue, but Adon thought his brother seemed not to see it.
I’m still jealous that you could somehow not notice that, Adon thought.
“The pleasure is ours,” said William, dipping his head again, though less deeply than when he bowed to the King and Princess.
Frederick simply nodded in response to the mystic beasts’ introductions. The young lord’s eyes flitted over each creature’s form in turn, and Adon could not help but notice that the younger son of Dessia looked less than impressed.
It was the expression of mild disdain on Frederick’s face that got Adon interested enough in knowing what he was thinking to break his own internally imposed rule.
He activated Telepathy again and focused his power exclusively on the young lord.
These are mystic beasts? Frederick was thinking. It is still hard to believe that our line descends from these strange monsters. Why do the Claustrians parade these embarrassing reminders of our primitive past around, as if they were something to be proud—
Adon switched Telepathy back off.
Well, don’t eavesdrop if you don’t want to hear something you won’t like, he told himself, trying to laugh it off.
But it was a reminder that he had been lucky to hatch in Claustria—or perhaps it was not luck, but the planning of his never-encountered mother and the Goddess. Either way, Dessia clearly was not the place for Adon, if this was a common attitude there.
He wondered if the older brother felt the same way but decided not to push it any further before he discussed the mind-reading situation with Rosslyn.
Luckily, the pleasantries of the first meeting were quickly concluded.
“As my young lords have come a long way, you must be weary and hungry from your journey,” the King said. “Our household staff will show you to your rooms so that you can change out of those wet clothes, and then we can share our evening meal.”
“We thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty,” said William formally. He bowed his head again.
“We look forward to spending this time with your family,” Frederick added, copying his brother’s bow.
Adon could not help thinking that there was something ironic to Frederick’s tone and bow, as if he perhaps thought the nobles’ theatrical displays of courtesy were a bit silly. But the butterfly resisted the urge to try reading the lord’s thoughts again. He had learned his lesson already.
The sons of the Duke were escorted from the room by a group of four servants, and the royal party all held their positions until the doors were closed behind them. It felt stilted and theatrical to Adon. Was this what royal life was like all the time? Staged?
The King visibly let out a long breath once he heard the sound of the door fitting itself neatly back into the jamb.
“All right, then,” he said softly, turning to look at Adon, Goldie, and Samson. “Your usual meals will be prepared for this group dinner, honored guests. I hope you will continue to honor the group by your presence at the table. If you choose to absent yourself from subsequent dinners, we will understand, but the welcome and farewell meals for foreign leaders are traditionally affairs that all important personages staying in the palace attend.”
Adon stiffened slightly. He did not mind having dinner with the lords—he hoped he would not be expected to talk much, but he would have no trouble eating in front of the guests, even Frederick—but he needed to have a word with the King about his food.
Pardon me, Your Majesty, Adon began.
“You can just call me Alistair when there are no outsiders around,” he gently replied.
Yes, thank you, Alistair, Adon sent. I had a small request related to the meal. Several of my drinks—everything except the sugar water and the flower nectar, actually—is rather strongly alcoholic. I don’t mean to say that I don’t like alcohol, but the tolerance in this body is very low. I would hate the thought of embarrassing myself and the table by becoming drunk.
“Oh! I see.” The King looked like he was trying not to smile at that thought.
Adon deactivated Telepathy so that he would not hear any thoughts that might cause him to start to dislike the nice King.
And he received a telepathic message from Goldie, very quiet and clearly aimed only at him.
Well done in speaking up for yourself, she transmitted. You cannot let this place intimidate you!
Adon wished he could smile at that. Goldie understood his struggles better than anyone else.
“I will have the fermented fruit beverages diluted, then, Adon, if that suits your needs,” Alistair continued, oblivious to the spider's communication to Adon.
Adon reactivated Telepathy and sent a quick, Yes, thank you, that sounds perfect.
“Excellent,” the King said. He nodded to a gray-haired servant who Adon only noticed when the King gestured to him. The man must have some serious stealth talents! The servant bowed and left, presumably to make Adon’s request a reality.
“I will go and change for dinner,” Rosslyn said.
Another outfit change? Adon thought. But he supposed that different costumes for every occasion were par for the course for royalty.
The King was nodding and saying something about changing himself.
Royals certainly loved their costumes.
I had something I wanted to ask you about, Rosslyn, Adon transmitted quickly. Is it all right if I accompany you—um, part of the way?
He sent that last part of the message as he saw how the King and Princess’s faces were changing.
No, he did not want to follow the Princess into her room and watch her change. Adon’s social skills were not so weak that he would think that was an appropriate request.
Rosslyn’s lips curled slightly in a small smile.
“That would be fine, Adon,” she said.
She walked through the doors in the direction of her room, and Adon flew through the air alongside her.
Now he could finally ask what Rosslyn thought about him using Telepathy, given that he could now inadvertently—or purposely—overhear other people’s private thoughts.