Adon looked around for a moment and then thanked the Goddess that only those immediately near him were in the circle of his telepathic conversation.

He was terribly embarrassed at the way he’d just blurted out that Samson and Goldie were promising magic users. Setting aside the question of whether it was true or not, the words did not sound true coming out of his head. At least not to Adon. He thought he sounded as if he was desperate to convince them—which would have been an accurate reading of his intentions at that moment.

If the Duke’s sons were looking for signs of deception, he would seem like the most obvious liar or exaggerator in the world.

But the young lords nodded in response to what Adon had said, as if they didn’t think it was particularly strange at all—as if he didn’t even sound particularly off to them.

“That is good to hear,” said William, his eyes twinkling.

I wonder how promising, he thought.

If mystic beasts are a real phenomenon I have to adjust myself to, they had better at least be as strong as the legends, thought Frederick.

Well, they did not know him well yet…

Or perhaps he wasn’t as socially maladroit as he thought he was. Maybe it was still possible that he might become a social butterfly in this life—instead of the awkward creature he felt he was in that moment.

Alternatively, maybe Lord William had some reason for wanting to believe the mystic beasts were strong—or would become strong. It might be a factor in favor of his country’s alliance with Claustria.

Putting aside his doubts about his own believability, Adon took a sip of his wine and prepared a message to send to Goldie and Samson.

The young lords are trying to gauge our strength as a proxy for the Kingdom’s strength, he quickly transmitted to the two of them only.

Oh, man! thought Samson. Then they just tricked me. I really let my guard down. But I should have known…

I thought they were friendly, too, sent Goldie. Are they planning on starting a war? Otherwise, why…?

Adon agreed with her. These probing questions did not seem to him exactly the kind that you asked friends, especially not in what he considered a relatively sneaky way.

But the rules for royals and high nobility were probably different. Harsher.

I don’t know, Adon replied. Rosslyn suggested it to me a few minutes ago, when they started asking questions about us. At first, I didn’t think it made sense, but now I’m pretty convinced.

It’s easy to believe they would want to figure out the relative power of their ally, Samson sent. Realpolitik. Even if they might theoretically like the idea of honor, they won’t behave honorably if they don’t think it fits with their interests. If Claustria seems too weak, they won’t fight for the Kingdom despite being allies. Because they don’t want to be on the losing side.

Adon had nothing to say to that. It sounded distressingly accurate to him.

We can talk about this later, he told them finally.

He turned and tried to tune back in to the main conversation.

Goldie and Samson chattered worriedly back and forth as they ate their food, keeping their dialogue contained to the two of them—Adon was only looped in because of his powerful Telepathy—so that the Duke’s sons did not hear them.

Most of the remainder of the dinner, thankfully, was consumed with smalltalk. This started with William shifting the conversation to the general subject of combat training, a topic on which Rosslyn seemed able to talk fluently and for as long as necessary with great enthusiasm.

Adon felt a little less pressure from the social situation with the brothers physically turned away from him for a certain segment of the conversation—in part, he suspected, because the spiders were tearing into their food next to Adon, and the way Goldie and Samson ate was not pretty.

Now that they were looking away from him and that he could—and frequently would, whether he wanted to or not—read minds, Adon found himself emboldened to participate in the conversation a bit more.

The big social advantage of mind-reading was that he could tell instantly whether people thought the things he was saying were strange or dumb or—as was surprisingly often the case—when he seemed to be winning some amount of the other person’s confidence and respect.

It was a major booster to his confidence.

Rosslyn has been a lot of help to us in our training, Adon mentioned, inserting himself into the conversation about training.

“Would you participate in the fighting if the Kingdom went to war, Adon?” William asked quietly. “Given that the Princess is training you all and that you originate from here, is that a possibility you have contemplated?”

The words felt almost as if William had been listening to Adon’s exchanges with Samson and Goldie of a few minutes before, but Adon knew that was impossible. He would definitely have heard William thinking about it.

Rosslyn looked like she wanted to interject, but Adon replied instantly.

Of course I would, he sent in an earnest tone. Perhaps that is the reason I was placed in this Kingdom by the Goddess. I understand that these things are not down to random chance. Would your country go to war? I’m a bit naive about politics, but you are allies, right?

Rosslyn’s face lit up, and Adon caught a single, undisciplined fragment of a concept from her head space before she restrained herself from pursuing her train of thought.

… hero…

The little scrap of thought drove Adon’s mind into wild speculation.

Did Rosslyn think Adon was a potential hero for Claustria? She had repeatedly alluded to believing he was important. Was there something to the history of butterflies in this Kingdom that made her believe he would save them? Or maybe he was reading too much into the one word he’d caught before she controlled her thoughts. Maybe she thought what he had said was dumb and was resisting the urge to say something like, Don’t be a hero, dummy!

Before he could dwell too much on those questions, William’s quick, efficient inner monologue distracted Adon.

Good question, William thought. Of course we would defend Claustria unless something drastic changes, but it is prudent of him to ask it and make us declare it openly—assuming this is not simply him artlessly blurting out exactly what he thought.

“We are honor bound to stand by our dear neighbors,” William replied aloud, puffing himself up. Adon noted that more than just the Royal Family and the arthropods had turned and heard the lord’s loud pronouncement. “Long tradition and bonds that run deeper than blood connect us.”

“None dare question the courage of the Dessian military,” Frederick added, with a slight edge of affront.

Well played, little bug, he thought. Now my brother is honor bound. Even if he does not come away from this place with anything he wanted, he has given his personal commitment. Adon guessed from the tone of Frederick’s thought that the air of mild offense in his spoken words was affected.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“We are, of course, pleased to have Dessia’s commitment to fight alongside us in this time when the Empire threatens to begin another wave of aggression,” said the King loudly. “I never doubted you, given your father’s and my long years of friendship.”

Well done, Adon, he thought, clearly suppressing the urge to smile broadly. I never would have doubted their father, but I do not know the sons as I know the Duke. They have given their word in front of dozens of nobles who will spread the news of it.

The butterfly felt, after how these interactions had gone, that he had performed much better at dinner than he had expected—despite the fact that he knew that if he was a human, he would be soaked in sweat by now.

At a table where people lied and flattered each other, it seemed sincerity could become a weapon.

For the most part, though, Adon did not inject himself into the conversation unless he was brought in by being addressed directly. It was exhausting to try and consider what each person wanted to hear and might appreciate him saying at each moment, and he kept imagining that he would make a mistake and humiliate both himself and the Royal Family, or throw away whatever progress he might have made.

But he kept being pulled back into the discussion.

“So, you communicate telepathically, Adon?” Frederick asked at one point. “I mean, this whole time, I have assumed the mechanism of your communication is a Telepathy Adaptation rather than something else.”

We all do, replied Goldie, who seemed comfortable enough with dinner table conversation and very aware that Adon was still finding his conversational legs, despite relative success.

Spiders and butterflies lack vocal cords, Samson helpfully added.

“At least you do in your natural forms,” William said quietly, almost under his breath.

“Does that mean that you can read our minds?” asked Frederick. “Hear what we think?” He tapped his temple with his index finger.

I can hear what you want me to hear, Adon replied instantly. If you bring a thought up to the surface of your mind, any of us would be able to pick it up as if you were speaking.

Well done, Rosslyn thought. You are not even lying. Simply omitting.

He did not actually say what the limits are, William noted. He only implied them. Considering the way the butterfly handled my other questions… I am beginning to think that this mystic beast is not as naive as I might have imagined. Rosslyn must have coached him for this dinner, she would know how—or perhaps he has some other experience? Answering politely without giving any actual information away is a critical skill for those born into our life, but I have never met a peasant who could do it effectively who was not a criminal—someone accustomed to lying regularly.

What you described is a little disturbing, Frederick thought. Are you poking around inside my mind right now, butterfly? Have you been listening all evening?

Adon carefully avoided reacting to anything they articulated, and thankfully the conversation drifted back to safer topics shortly after that.

Much of the change in conversational direction was thanks to Rosslyn guiding the brothers away from subjects that she did not want the arthropods to discuss—or that she herself did not want discussed.

As the dinner wound down, Adon was pleased to note that despite freely consuming his beverages, he did not feel drunk—if anything, he might have been slightly buzzed—indicating that the palace cooks had listened to the King’s orders and weakened the alcoholic content of his drinks.

This meant he was able to continue participating in the conversation, as well as reading minds, until the last moments of the meal.

“Would the two young lords like to join me for a private drink?” the King asked as the servants began removing some dishes from the table.

I need to lay down some ground rules before they have their first full day here tomorrow, Alistair was thinking. They were here to court his daughter, and he wanted them to go about it in a dignified and respectful way, remaining in the presence of chaperones at all times.

William’s face and thoughts betrayed slight impatience—Is this truly necessary? I wanted to take Rosslyn for a walk before bed—but only for a moment. He had remarkable control over his facial expressions.

A natural politician, Adon thought.

Then William bowed his head as if grateful for the King’s attention. “It would be our pleasure, sir.”

Frederick likewise bowed his head in agreement.

But Alistair had noticed the quick flicker of displeasure in the young lord’s expression, too.

It will not be too long, the King thought. The impatience of the younger generation…

“Then I will escort our resident mystic beasts back to their chamber,” Rosslyn said.

The King announced the end of dinner to the rest of the guests, who were by then simply conversing, having eaten their fill over the course of the long evening. Adon could not tell quite how late it was, since the room was lit by many candles, but he guessed that it was fully dark outside judging by how the light had diminished.

As the King rose, everyone else around the table began pushing their chairs back and getting up.

When Rosslyn got up, she extended her hand for a moment to her left side—it looked to Adon like she was simply steadying herself. Like him, she might have been slightly buzzed, since she had consumed some wine with her meal.

Lord William took that moment as an opportunity to kiss the back of the Princess’s outstretched hand. It was an old, traditionally chivalrous gesture that Adon recognized from many other incarnations, but it seemed to him to last just a second too long.

The King noticed it, too. A vein lightly throbbed at the side of his forehead.

You just arrived, Alistair thought. Control yourself, Lord William…

For her part, the Princess did not seem to know what she felt—or more accurately, she gave ambivalent signs.

She smiled as she pulled her hand away, but she also thought, I did not offer my hand, did I? Based on that thought, Adon imagined the smile might have been merely polite—but if so, the Princess was good at hiding her true feelings. It looked real enough to him.

“Good evening, William,” she said. She turned to Frederick. “Good evening, Frederick.”

“Good evening, Rosslyn,” said William, looking her confidently in the eyes.

“May the Goddess give you pleasant rest, Rosslyn,” said Frederick, smiling affectionately.

Adon sensed genuinely warm feelings from both brothers toward the Princess—though William’s feelings seemed more passionate, while he read Frederick’s as the fondness of a childhood friend who still held some tender—but clearly platonic—feelings toward Rosslyn despite years apart.

The situation was slightly confusing for Adon. After that high pressure evening, there were such warm feelings from the young lords’ side? Perhaps the Princess and the mystic beasts she kept around her had passed the Dessians’ tests—the evening seemed to Adon to have featured a series of tests—and now they were finally relaxing. Opening their hearts and allowing their true feelings to breathe. Or perhaps to them, the combination of intense scrutiny and tender feeling was normal and not contradictory.

What in the world is Dessia like? Adon wondered. What is the Duke like? To raise two young adults who think like these two…

On the other hand, he could not read Rosslyn’s feelings toward them at all—or at least they were not as apparent on the surface as the brothers’ feelings, and Adon did not try to dig deeper and explore her inner secrets.

Even if Rosslyn had implied that she would not blame him for reading other people’s thoughts, including her secret thoughts, trying to dig beneath the surface of her mind would feel like a violation of her privacy. Though she might never find out, he would know, and he would feel like a traitor. He couldn’t do something like that to Rosslyn or Goldie, though anyone else might be fair game.

Adon was surprised when his train of thought was interrupted—by Rosslyn picking him up on his pillow.

“You are ready to leave the table, right?” she confirmed.

I am, Adon sent, making sure he was only communicating to her. You’re carrying me yourself?

The servants from earlier had taken the two spiders, but Rosslyn politely shook her head at the one who wanted to carry Adon.

I said I would escort you, she thought. I had also imagined you might want to talk about the dinner table conversation. I hope you enjoyed the meal. I know our guests were not entirely friendly. When people visit each other’s countries, unfortunately, this is sometimes part of the trip. Testing each other, in ways subtle or overt. Looking for weaknesses—and strengths.

I was wondering about that, Adon replied.

As they had their internal back and forth, Rosslyn had stepped out of the dining room and into a hall, lit by fewer candles than the dinner table had featured. The flickering glow made it harder to see her expressions. The servants carrying Samson and Goldie followed along behind her.

Yes? Rosslyn asked. Adon was again impressed at how well she restrained her thoughts, so that nothing leaked out but what she had intended.

Specifically, I was wondering what the other problem was with the brothers asking me about Transformation, Adon sent. You mentioned there was another reason it was bad or inappropriate, besides what you mentioned at the table. So… what was it?

It might have been a trick of the light, but Adon thought Rosslyn looked surprised and embarrassed as she received his transmission.