Welcome back, Adon, Goldie sent drowsily as the butterfly settled on the bed covers beside her.

She looked up and to the right of where Adon had landed. There was a candle up there that the servant who had carried Samson back had lit—to make it easier for the butterfly to find his way back to the room later, the man had quietly explained.

It seemed the candle had succeeded in its mission.

Thank you, Goldie, Adon sent, clearly trying to use his inside voice. Please don’t let me keep you from resting.

You know how little rest we need, Goldie replied.

Where is Samson? Adon asked.

Unlike Goldie and the younger spiders, her firstborn was not sitting on a pillow in the bed.

He wanted to try his hand at creating his own web, Goldie sent. I think he went down into the room where we waited for you to emerge from your chrysalis. Or he might have decided to move in the opposite direction, up towards the top of the building. Perhaps whatever he thought would be most challenging… Just like you, he is never happy except when he is doing something productive. Usually trying to teach himself to do something that he does not know how to do yet.

I’m sure he only wants to make you proud, Adon replied—very diplomatically, in Goldie’s mind.

The spider had only realized after she had sent her message that there was a way Adon might have interpreted it as a kind of criticism of his and Samson’s inability to ever simply relax and be, which was not her intention.

She decided to change the subject.

Thank you for bringing—she looked at the tightly wrapped bundle of something that was almost as large as her body—food?

They’re a bunch of big bats, Adon replied energetically. The species are called Greater Claustrian Flying Foxes.

Such an effective hunter, Goldie praised. I will never be able to emulate your skills.

Her friend responded with his usual self-effacing denials and return compliments, and Goldie tried to convey how sincere she had been in what she had said in her message.

She was impressed—and grateful—two effects Adon had often had on the spider.

She’d had some time to digest her dinner and build up a little appetite again. More importantly, she was pleased that her children would have the chance to feed on Adon’s catch. From the size of the bundle, this would be a species far above the baby spiders on the System’s hierarchy. The little ones, even Samson, still had a lot of growing to do before Goldie would feel they were truly large and strong enough to be safe without her constant watchful eye.

She would probably consume one of the bats herself, since she was the largest spider and needed far more regular nutrition than the others. But she intended to leave the rest for her young.

As Goldie was thinking about how nutritious the bats would be for the hatchlings, she picked up on something odd in the way Adon was moving his body. She shifted her focus from the silken package to the butterfly again.

Adon was still fluttering his wings in a herky-jerky way, stutter-style, though he was clearly not trying to fly anywhere, just sitting on the bed. It was as if he could not hold still.

Adon, are you all right? Goldie asked.

I’m fine, Adon replied. I just spent some time, um, exercising, and I’m still winding down.

You mean the hunting? she sent.

Her friend paused for a moment, and the spider recognized that he was hesitating as he thought about what to say. She wondered if Adon had a secret of some sort. It would be a little surprising from him. Ever since they were the only fellow sentient life forms in the garden, she remembered how they had shared virtually everything with each other.

But things have changed since we moved into the palace, Goldie thought.

No, I don’t mean the hunting, Adon finally sent. Have you acquired the Transformation Adaptation yet?

No, I was planning to buy it, but I only just saved up the points, Goldie sent. I have been thinking I would ask you if it was a good idea first, or if there was something else I should acquire that would be more useful. What about it?

Adon paused for a long moment again.

I can tell you, because I trust you, he replied. The Transformation Adaptation is something kind of special about mystic beasts…

He spent the next couple of minutes awkwardly explaining why Transformation was so special.

So, humans and mystic beasts? Goldie asked.

It was hard for her to picture, but she thought it provided a lot of context for the noble brothers’ dinner conversation.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

And Adon had just spent the last quarter of an hour or so trying to use Transformation to shift into a human form himself? What did that mean? What were his intentions if he succeeded?

It’s such a weird idea, right? Adon asked. There was an awkward, slightly forced laugh in his telepathic message, and Goldie wondered at the meaning of that.

It makes sense, given how interested in us the young lords have been, Goldie sent, thinking carefully. And maybe the Princess and the King have been thinking about us from that angle too.

Anything is possible, Adon transmitted in a skeptical tone. I guess we’ll never know.

You could know anytime you wanted, Goldie thought but did not send. You can listen to all our thoughts now, even when we do not try to make them easily readable for you. All you would have to do is bring up the idea in front of the Princess or the King, and you would know the answer instantly, as soon as they reacted.

The spider refrained from transmitting that thought and tried to keep it contained as well as she could, because she thought it was possible that there were some things that the butterfly simply did not want to know—or would at least feel uncomfortable prying into. She could respect that.

If the, um, mystic beast to human Transformation subject happens to come up with Rosslyn, please feel free to let her know I told you, Adon added.

The spider could not imagine a situation in which the topic could simply happen to be raised if Rosslyn did not think that the arachnids already knew about it, but she didn’t bother to point that out. Adon probably already knew it, and this was his subtle way of saying that he did not mind if Goldie discussed the topic and told the Princess what she knew and how she had learned it.

I wonder why she did not include us in the conversation in the first place, Goldie sent. It seems like something important for all of us to know, me and Samson as much as you…

She did not resent the Princess for playing favorites a little, but it was confusing in this case. Goldie could not see how it was in Rosslyn’s interests to tell Adon and not the spiders about this critical piece of information, especially when the brothers had been willing to make insinuations on the subject at the dinner table that evening.

I think she probably would have told you guys, too, when she had to, Adon replied. You weren’t there, so I get why you don’t understand her decision. My guess is, it was very embarrassing for her just to have the conversation with me. Her face was burning up. It would have been worse if she had to do it with all of us. I had actually asked a question about why the brothers wanted to know certain things, so she kind of had to tell me in order to answer my question without lying.

If it was so embarrassing, why didn’t she lie? Goldie wondered but did not transmit.

Instead, she sent, Will she be unhappy that you told us? Was it a secret?

Adon replied instantly, I don’t think she’ll be unhappy, but it is a secret for her family. The other humans might not like it if they know, I think. But I figure if we can keep it to the arthropods, she won’t mind that I passed it on. Like I said, I really think she was going to tell you and Samson, but she didn’t want to embarrass herself any more than she had to tonight.

Goldie wondered, very quietly, if there was some more personal reason why Rosslyn had only told Adon, even knowing that the information would likely be passed on to the spiders later—as she must have. The Princess was a clever young woman with a good ability to read people. She had seen through all of the young lords’ veiled comments and questions easily enough, at least. And she had spent more time around Adon, Goldie, and the spiders recently than she had around William and Frederick.

Is Rosslyn looking here for a mate? Goldie thought. She again tried to keep her musings contained far below the surface of her mind, where Adon might accidentally receive them.

Well, I am glad you did it for her, Goldie sent, responding to Adon’s message after a small delay. I know you are not inclined to keep us in the dark about anything.

Right, Adon transmitted. There was an uncomfortable note, as if he was holding something back. Then he added, I should tell you that I passed the brothers’ room when I was coming back from the conversation. They were talking about us too. Of course, they know about Transformation. And William is trying to get Frederick to pursue you while he pursues Rosslyn.

You had a very complicated evening, Goldie sent. So many secrets, from dinner to your garden conversation, to things the young lords were saying in their space. How will you keep them all straight? There was a slight teasing edge to her voice, but it covered for her own feelings, which were a complicated and contradictory mixture.

She was pleased for Adon—and the Princess—if she was reading their situation correctly. Goldie thought that there was no more considerate person the Princess could choose for her mate than the butterfly. He was brave, kind, loyal, and strong. There was an intensity to Adon, and a need to prove himself, that Goldie had never been able to soothe herself.

But maybe Rosslyn was the person who could do that.

Goldie had seen the way the Princess’s validation of his magic skills or combat prowess would leave Adon floating through the rest of an afternoon.

At the same time, Goldie was not certain she could welcome any romantic attention herself. At least not right now. Perhaps not at any time in the near future.

No, the more she ruminated on the idea, the more certain she was that the idea was quite impossible.

She had her children to think of, before anything else, and Red, her mate, had been dead and buried for only a matter of weeks.

A widow required a decent amount of time to grieve.

It was impossible for her to think of mating or even opening her heart up to another potential loss before she could think of Red without becoming too emotional.

Even as she remembered him in this context, thinking about romance, her body felt heavy and hot, full of indescribable tension. Weighted down by grief.

Not loneliness, exactly. She had never been lonely since her spiderlings had hatched. Samson and his siblings would keep her company, probably for the remainder of her life. Just as Adon—the other member of her family—would.

Goldie did not know when she transmitted any of those thoughts and feelings to Adon. She did not even know if she transmitted them, or if Adon’s increased Telepathy powers simply meant that he intercepted some of them inadvertently, soaking up her feelings like a tragic perfume in the air.

She knew he must have understood something of how she felt, because Adon flapped his wings, fluttered across the bed, and then embraced her with his thin, spindly limbs.

After a surprised moment, Goldie hugged him back with her much longer, thicker spider legs.

The two invertebrates, both cold-blooded, could not share any meaningful body heat between them, but there was a kind of warmth in the embrace nevertheless.

Perhaps it was simply that they had a shared loss, and they each cared for the other deeply.

Regardless of the motivations, Adon and Goldie held each other for a long time. As they remained wrapped up together, the candle that the servant had left burning extinguished itself in a pool of hot wax.