Adon clung to the wall, lurking in the shadows, for what felt like a long time, during which period his brain recovered.

The mild headache that he was developing dulled and then disappeared completely.

Just as Adon was starting to feel bored, Rosslyn returned to the servants’ hallway and rejoined the knights.

“Let us resume,” she said, looking at and projecting her voice toward the knights but clearly intending them for Adon also.

He turned his body invisible, quickly fluttered down to where she stood, and landed in the same place on the back of her hair from before.

The Princess reached back and placed a hand gently over his wings, providing him cover while he shifted back to his visible appearance, emulating the look of a glossy hair pin in the shape of a butterfly. This form was easier to maintain, he had noticed, than invisibility or enlargement, because the Transformation kept him very close to his original shape and size.

He reactivated Telepathy in time to catch her in mid-thought.

—thing happen while I was gone?

Adon could guess what the first two words of that sentence probably were.

Nothing of interest happened in front of me, he sent back.

Did you have enough rest to continue? Rosslyn replied.

I did, Adon transmitted.

Rosslyn nodded to herself and to the knights, and then the process resumed.

Adon could not help noticing that the continued activity had shifted its tempo. Where before, Rosslyn had moved as if there was a fire under her, now she and her helpers advanced through the halls in the rhythm of a funeral march. The questions she was asking to elicit incriminating mental statements remained essentially the same as they had been before, but her tone was different.

The butterfly hardly had room to focus on it at first, attentive as he was to the responses themselves, but soon it set in for him.

Rosslyn seemed terribly dispirited.

As she spoke—“What do you know about poisoning?”—her voice came out flat, resigned.

When they identified the next traitor among the staff, she hardly reacted. It was as if she was already jaded and imagined that anyone else she spoke to could be one of the enemies—and perhaps that was not far from her actual feelings.

Between the unmasking of the traitor and the next room, Adon took the chance to try talking to her.

Are you all right, Rosslyn? he transmitted tentatively.

She hesitated for a few seconds before formulating her response.

Oh, fine, Rosslyn thought. A little troubled about the way the night has gone—but fine, I think. Thank you for asking. Are you tired at all? Do you need another break?

No, I’m fine, Adon sent. He did not believe Rosslyn was “fine” at all, and he decided to push a little bit, like he would with Goldie. Um, do you want to talk about it?

The Princess was silent for a little while—for so long that they had to move on to the next door, just to keep pace with the knights’ expectations. They did not know that their leader was talking to a mystic beast as they followed her.

Rosslyn and Adon tackled a few more examinations before they moved on to another space.

Then they finally had enough of a gap to properly communicate with each other again.

Honestly, I have never felt so unsettled in my life, Rosslyn thought, the words coming out in a rush. There are so many traitors around us. People who lied to us for years. It is painful to think about. I look around me and wonder who can be trusted. She paused. Not you, of course. I know I can trust you.

Yes, Adon replied immediately. You have me, Goldie, Samson, and your family at least. And all the people we’re clearing tonight are probably trustworthy.

They are at least not involved in the plot to assassinate my father, Rosslyn thought. If I started asking some more general questions to stimulate their thought processes about treachery more broadly, I would only end up looking suspicious. I think it would give away that I, or someone around me, had Telepathy.

Adon could only agree.

Then the two proceeded to clear another section of the palace. All the groundskeepers and gardeners showed no signs of knowing anything about a plot to kill the King.

That is a relief, Rosslyn thought as they moved out. If one of them was working for the Empire, I would expect the Emperor to already know about you and the spiders. Hopefully you are still a secret.

A part of Adon wanted to ask what the Empire did to mystic beasts, but he thought it might be better not knowing. His imagination had other subjects to occupy itself, so his brain would not invent torments out of whole cloth for him. But if he actually knew how the Empire treated captured enemy creatures, he imagined he would not be able to avoid picturing it happening to himself and Goldie.

No one else knows about me? Adon transmitted. I know you’ve tried to keep the information tight within your family, but there are people preparing our meals every day.

That is true, Rosslyn thought. Celeste certainly knew that you were more than meets the eye. But she never saw or heard of you actually performing any magic. Whatever she might have passed on to the Empire will be limited. They will have no idea of your capabilities and your maturity. Whereas the gardeners have almost certainly seen some of your handiwork, whether they recognized it or not.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Adon remembered all the holes he had burned in plants—and even damage that he had done to the palace roof—from using his Mana ball over and over through his days in the garden.

If they’re not blind, they know, he sent.

Rosslyn suppressed a little snort of laughter—she covered it by covering her mouth and pretending to cough—and shook her head.

Adon thought of someone else who might know about what he could do, though he had little concrete reason to think so.

You never told that enslaved woman who was staying in the servants’ quarters about me, right? he asked. It’s just that she hates you and your father so much, I can easily imagine her telling the Empire anything she learned about me out of spite. She wants to kill the King herself, but I’m guessing that the Empire getting anyone else you care about would be a victory in her eyes. For that matter, I think she would consider it a victory even if she died to accomplish her goal. Do you know why she hates the two of you to such an insane degree?

Rosslyn stopped, stiffened slightly, and then continued walking. Adon could not imagine what the knights looking at her must think—not without delving into their minds, which he was not trying to do at the moment. Their dull, sleep-deprived minds did not present their thoughts as forcefully on the surface as they might otherwise have done. The knights had been working hard all night, and it was now into early morning.

Maybe they did not notice the Princess’s slightly odd behavior as she engaged in the telepathic dialogue. After all, she was going through a difficult night. It would be stranger if it had not affected her, arresting members of her household staff and knights sworn into her father’s service.

Rosslyn continued walking along in silence for a while, and Adon did not say anything to follow up on his question. He was starting to know her mind well by then, and he thought he could tell when the surface of her mind was placid because she was thinking thoughts deep below, versus when she was simply at peace. This was not one of the latter times.

I never told her anything about you, Adon, Rosslyn thought smoothly. I have hardly had any dialogue with her except when we were fighting, and those were mostly words exchanged in anger. Matilda and I are not so terribly different in that regard. I think a temper runs in the royal bloodline—she is distantly related—but I think I have always been careful to avoid telling her anything that could be damaging.

Is that what’s wrong with her? Adon responded. She just has the royal temper in spades?

Rosslyn shook her head. It is hard to be certain exactly what is wrong with Matilda. She has her reasons for her grievance against my father, but her feelings exceed all rational proportion. She believed that she should be Queen of Claustria, you see…

Wait, was she in line for the throne? Adon sent. Isn’t there some kind of order of succession?

The Princess quickly explained the families’ respective backgrounds, how certain royals had died in the past and left competing viable claims—and that Matilda was the reincarnation of someone called Warrior Queen Maud, who was apparently very important in Claustrian history.

Was the reincarnation thing important? Adon asked.

She thought so, at least, Rosslyn replied. It does not give her a legally recognizable claim to the throne. It may be relevant to understanding her reactions, though.

Adon simply waited for her to elaborate.

There is a theory, though some consider it an old wives’ tale, that figures of the past can be affected by how they are perceived today, Rosslyn thought. The idea is that the soul of a dead person, or a group of people, might be diminished and influenced by how they are perceived today. And Warrior Queen Maud has not been given all of the credit that she deserves for her accomplishments by mainstream historians within the country.

So, that led to this new incarnation being ambitious and wanting to attain the glory that was denied her previous self in history? Adon transmitted.

It is hard to say for certain, Adon, Rosslyn thought. As I said, it is an old wives’ tale—an idea that no one has ever proven or even set out to prove. The people of our society are very in touch with their past lives, attuned to issues related to them, and curious about how the reincarnation system works. Another interpretation could be that the public idea of the Warrior Queen has soured, and she has been remembered as cruel and bloodthirsty—and so the incarnation of her who returned actually became that way. And still a third possibility is that because Matilda remembers the harsh way her previous self was remembered, she decided not to care about how people view her in this life. Injustice can happen even to a person who tried her best to live a good and moral life, so why bother trying to be good?

That’s pretty grim as an outlook, Adon sent. Are you sure it’s her past life influencing her like that?

After a moment, the Princess shook her head.

I have no way of knowing, she thought. I have little connection to my past lives. Rosslyn sounded slightly regretful. You remember much of your past lives, do you not? How do you think those experiences have affected you in this one?

Adon thought about his past lives, and the aggregate impression of his experience that hit him as he considered it was the same as ever—he had consistently been a loser. He had consistently failed at life in every incarnation. There was no concept in his mind of how any of those versions of himself would be viewed by other people looking backward; in fact, it seemed distinctly probable that none of those incarnations would be remembered by anyone at all.

It’s too depressing to think about, Adon thought, very carefully not sending the words as a message to Rosslyn.

After a moment, he sent, I think past lives can definitely influence your priorities in the present.

He sensed that Rosslyn wanted him to elaborate further, but the feelings that filled his mind now were not ones that he wanted to share with anyone.

I’m not going to be forgettable this time, Adon thought, keeping the sentiment very quiet. In this life, I’ll leave my mark, for better or worse.

The Princess and the butterfly continued in their mission of purging the palace, united by their common purpose but alone with their thoughts.

They did not find any other spies that night, to their shared surprise. Rosslyn had resigned herself to the idea that one in every fifty people in the palace would turn out to be an imperial agent, and Adon had assumed that her estimate could not be far wrong.

By the end, though there were no more arrests, Adon was pleased with the progress he had made in the time they had continued the hunt. He thought his Telepathy had grown smoother and was less taxing to his brain. The thoughts of the people around him presented themselves with less effort and organized themselves for him. He guessed that he had improved the Adaptation through practice again, perhaps more quickly than the last time because he was now using it constantly.

Sustained effort is the key, he told himself, thinking about the other Adaptation that he badly wanted to advance.

Rosslyn was dismissing the knights as the sun rose through the distant window, sending them back to their barracks with her thanks, when Adon noticed this subtle shift in the efficacy of Telepathy.

Thank you for all the help, Adon, Rosslyn thought.

I’m glad I could earn my keep, Adon replied modestly. I hope Goldie and Samson are still all right.