The air hung with a pregnant pause for a moment as Adon waited for Rosslyn to respond to what he had said.
Oh, Goddess, was her first thought.
Her inner voice sounded perceptibly exasperated—or was it embarrassed? It was hard to tell. Adon had only rarely heard the Princess disturbed from a state of emotional equilibrium.
He might have imagined it, but he thought that Rosslyn’s face had acquired a slightly pink hue as she reacted to his question. Maybe it was just the candlelight flickering across her features, or maybe she now flushed more easily because of the alcohol that she, like everyone else, had been imbibing. In any case, it was gone after she shook her head and took control of her countenance again.
You were still wondering about that, she thought, still noticeably thrown off. Of course you were. Um, yes, Adon, I will explain the other reason why I did not want you to discuss the Transformation Adaptation with the brothers. Let us just walk Goldie and Samson back to your shared quarters, and you and I will go outside and discuss this matter privately.
I understand, replied Adon. But he didn’t really.
This was a conversation they needed to have outside? To get away from Goldie and Samson—who would both undoubtedly unlock the same ability if Goldie did not have it already? This was starting to feel like a bigger deal than Adon had imagined.
He almost wanted to tell her to forget about it. Almost.
Now that I know it’s something so difficult to discuss, my curiosity is kind of piqued, he admitted to himself. If it made Rosslyn more uncomfortable than he had seen, he told himself that he would break off the conversation and drop the subject. Maybe someone else could tell him what was so special about the Transformation Adaptation. The King seemed to be an expert in all butterfly-related things.
He allowed Rosslyn to carry him the rest of the way to the arthropods’ room in silence.
“Adon and I are going to go discuss some mystic butterfly-specific magical history in the library for a while,” the Princess said once they had arrived and the servants had placed the spiders on the bed.
He thought she lied remarkably smoothly—unless the Transformation Adaptation really had a history that was specific to butterflies rather than mystic beasts in general, which did not make much sense to him.
Please tell your father and his cooks that we thank them for a lovely meal, Samson replied.
We will train for a little while, I think, Goldie transmitted. We do not want to embarrass you in front of the future Duke of Dessia with our magic. Thank you for the food.
“I cannot imagine either of you embarrassing us,” Rosslyn replied. “Please put Frederick and William’s opinions out of your minds and move at your own pace.”
They were behaving a bit badly in bothering the three of you about that, she thought loudly enough for Adon to guess that it was meant for all three of them—rather than something that leaked out to just him.
We can hardly blame them, Samson sent. It’s our task to appear as strong as possible so that they understand that you are a formidable enemy—and a valuable ally. I’m sure Adon agrees. That’s why he covered for my remark by mentioning how promising we were. In a way, it’s good to have something to focus on for motivation. I was beginning to feel a bit useless, trying to master mana but making progress so slowly. I think I’ll grow faster now.
It certainly can’t hurt, Adon agreed. I’ll do whatever I can to help you train now that I’m back.
He felt much less insecurity about his place in the world after his hunting trip. It was as if being back outside, killing enemies—prey—reminded him of what really counted. His place in the food chain might have some correlation to his sense of self-esteem and self-efficacy in this body. And Samson had been his brother. Even if Adon helped Samson, and the spider surpassed Adon’s magical ability, that would not mean the butterfly had no place in the world.
Adon still wanted to be the best, but that should not mean holding Samson back or refusing to help him advance.
Rosslyn set down the pillow Adon stood on and tapped her bare left shoulder. Reading her body language, Adon fluttered lightly up to settle there. Because his feet were sensory organs, he instantly absorbed the mingled taste of jasmine mixed with oil and Rosslyn’s sweat—a heady brew of scents.
For far from the first time, Adon felt that being a butterfly was very strange compared with both being human and his other experiences as various random species. Dragons tasted with their tongues. He had been a snake once, and they also had taste receptors inside their mouths—not their tongue, exactly, but where taste receptors ought to be. He had been a fly before, though, and they also tasted with their feet.
Maybe it felt particularly strange to him because his last life, the one he recalled most vividly, had been a human one.
In the present, he thought that it would only increase Rosslyn’s discomfort level to start commenting on how she smelled—or, technically tasted—so he kept silent about the fact that his position gave him a strong awareness of it.
Fortunately, it was pleasant. Almost too pleasant.
Rosslyn stepped away from the bed, and the two of them left the arthropods’ chamber and moved through the halls for a while. She seemed to be collecting her thoughts on some level below the surface of her mind, where Adon could not read them unless he really tried to—which he wasn’t. The butterfly was simply trying not to fall off her shoulder and getting used to the slightly intoxicating odor around him.
The Princess opened an exterior-facing door, and they finally emerged into the garden—the relative darkness of the outer world. There was enough light from the full moon that Adon could still see Rosslyn’s face quite well, though.
She reached her hands up to Adon, picked him up from her shoulder in two cupped palms, and gently placed him on top of a bush beside a bench. She sat down on the bench a moment later and looked up at him as if thinking about how to begin—or hoping that he would say something first.
But since he did not know what they were really there to discuss, he kept his thoughts to himself for the moment. His head was finally clearing from the perfume-sweat buzz that had layered itself on top of his slight alcohol-related buzz.
“So, Adon,” the Princess began in a low voice, looking uncomfortable—or embarrassed. “I will be brief. Undoubtedly we both need rest after that long dinner. The short explanation of why the topic was inappropriate for dinner conversation is that when a human and a mystic beast become very close, well, there are, um… romantic possibilities stemming from the mystic beasts having the capacity to transform.”
Oh! Adon’s mind flashed over a hundred versions of “the talk” that he had received across nearly every life in which he’d had present parents. The “birds and the bees” was only one version. There was also a variation about fish and rabbits multiplying, and in a couple of incarnations, his parents had instructed him to observe animals mating to understand the process. Those memories in particular stood out for how bizarre they were.
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“I think you understand?” the Princess asked hopefully, turning her face away from Adon as she spoke.
Humans and mystic beasts can, um… He searched for a good word. Most of the phrases he knew, even the euphemisms, felt vulgar and inappropriate to use with the Princess—or clinical and scientific, which might be even worse. He finally settled on one that, while still vaguely naughty, was at least not vulgar. They can make love.
Rosslyn nodded, head still turned looking away, off toward the horizon. Her face was so red that the color had gone to her neck. But now that they were actually having this conversation, Adon’s mind raced with possibilities. He wanted to ask questions—and then perhaps never discuss this topic again, depending on how uncomfortable the conversation became.
At least one question.
Do they ever actually do that in this world? he sent.
Rosslyn nodded again and began to speak. She remained turned away, and her voice had lowered almost to a whisper.
“Some of my own ancestors,” she said. “At least a few of them were butterflies.”
It helped Adon’s hearing that her surface-level thoughts echoed with the same words, and Adon was receiving those too—though he was not trying to read her mind, some of her thoughts were still carried passively to him as long as he had Telepathy active. Fortunately, she seemed to be restricting her brain to only formulate thoughts into words for the purpose of speaking to him. At least the level of her brain that he accessed easily.
Whoa. Then they can do more than make love. They can actually reproduce… Adon thought the words loudly and only realized as Rosslyn put a hand to her face to cover her expression that he had transmitted them to her in the same loud, direct voice with which they had occurred to him. He hoped he had not offended her.
It was just a shock to have every world’s understanding of science and biology seemingly overturned, as mystic beasts apparently had the ability to reproduce sexually with a different species.
This world is magic, he reminded himself silently. Control what you transmit. Don’t be a jerk. Don’t make her uncomfortable with your weird thoughts. Be cool.
“Yes,” Rosslyn said, in answer to the comment about reproduction. “That is the size of it. So, now you know.” Her tone sounded as if she wished to physically run from the garden as she spoke, but she forced herself to continue. “And undoubtedly you understand why such allusions were inappropriate dinner table conversation—though the brothers would undoubtedly deny any such subtext.”
I understand, Adon replied. Thank you for telling me. I will be careful in talking to the brothers. Just what he should be careful about, he wasn’t certain of even as he sent the words, but it felt like a correct thing to say, and Rosslyn nodded as if it made sense to her.
“I should have told you as soon as I knew,” she said, her tone apologetic. “My father explained our family history to me just after you emerged from the chrysalis.” She finally looked back at him, and Adon wished he could show her a human face, so that she would see he did not feel unhappy or betrayed in the least.
You don’t have anything to feel bad about, Adon transmitted.
What the Princess had said had been shocking for him, and he could tell it had been uncomfortable for her to discuss. He wasn’t entitled to be told that information—or at least he did not feel as if he had been entitled to it, which perhaps amounted to the same thing.
“If you say so,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck a little awkwardly.
So that is what the Transformation Adaptation can really do… Adon thought aloud.
“Oh, I should have asked before I dumped all this information on you,” Rosslyn said. “Did you still want to try it out?”
To try… Adon almost misunderstood what she had said, then quickly corrected his understanding.
Oh, to try and turn into a human form, he sent.
She nodded.
Maybe I should, Adon replied.
“All right. I can let you know if your proportions are right.”
Hm. Adon thought about this. He realized that he did not want to show his previous incarnation’s body to Rosslyn—or to anyone, for that matter—but then what would his frame of reference be if he turned into a human right now? He had lived plenty of other human lives, so at least he had a fair number of models.
“Oh, wait, before you do!” Rosslyn spoke up, raising her hand as if to tell him to stop.
Before I do? Adon sent.
She turned around to face in the opposite direction from him.
Um, why did you turn around? he asked.
“If you transform into a human, that will not create clothes, will it? I imagine that it will take all your concentration just to replicate the human form… Or were you planning to flash me?” Rosslyn spoke those last words with a slight teasing edge to her voice.
Adon nevertheless hastened to reassure her, No, I definitely did not intend that.
“If you complete your transformation, I suppose we will need to make certain in future that you have clothes nearby whenever you might do it. You could still try it this time. Just, um, stand behind a bush.”
Maybe we should do this another time, Adon transmitted. No, we should definitely do this another time.
Rosslyn chuckled.
“All right,” she said. “Probably good thinking. It is late to conduct experiments. And I should go train and work off some of that food.” She placed a hand over her silk-covered abdomen as she spoke. Adon did not see any sign that she had eaten in her figure, and he guessed that she just wanted an excuse to spend some time not vaguely talking about sex or nudity with him—which he fully supported. He could only imagine how embarrassed she must feel, considering his own awkward mix of feelings.
I’ll go fly around for a bit, Adon replied quickly. I might be a little tipsy from dinner. If I said anything embarrassing…
Rosslyn shook her head and gave him one of her winning smiles.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about,” she said. “This was always going to be a bit of an odd conversation for both of us. If I said anything embarrassing, please likewise assume it was the wine.”
She rose and turned her back again as she moved to open the door and let them back into the palace.
Adon was impressed by the way she had managed to keep her mind empty so that he did not catch any random thoughts while they had engaged in this potentially fraught conversation.
I guess that’s the poise of royalty, he thought.
He also found his eyes noticing the way her dress clung to her athletic figure now—and realized a moment later that he had started to see her with his human eyes on. Sort of sexually. It must have started as soon as she had gotten into the birds and the bees stuff.
Or maybe even earlier.
He had been thinking about training and getting stronger in part to protect Rosslyn’s country. Was that just because he wanted to safeguard the place where all his friends lived—or had he also formed an attachment to the Princess that went beyond mere friendship? He knew he had at least wanted to impress her.
And had his eyes dwelled a little too long on the neckline of her dress that evening? He had definitely noticed how it looked on her. How long had he spent on noticing that? Was it longer than it should have been, from a friend?
At least his gaze would not have made her uncomfortable. One of the positive qualities of insect eyes was that no one could tell what his mind was focused on within his large field of vision.
Don’t get your wires crossed, he told himself as she turned back to face him, holding the door open, still smiling—surely with no idea in her mind of what he was thinking about. She just told you that stuff so that you would understand the context when the brothers bring it up in the future. Don’t start thinking about Rosslyn that way. You’ve been doing well at making friends in this life. Don’t go and try to make things complicated and embarrass yourself.