He screwed up his face. "Chicken!"

"If you say so, hero. Dismissed!" I turned to the chief guard. "Sergeant? I need to see Princess Ruata of the House of Night. It's pretty urgent."

Hearing the name, the guard jumped to attention and all but saluted me, "One moment!"

He produced a crystal artifact and spoke into it, swallowing the words. It looked as if NPCs didn't have built-in communication channels the way players did.

After a brief wait, a teleport popped open nearby, letting out a Drow mage. He nodded to the guards, then turned to me. "Our Lady will see you. Are you ready?"

Not bothering to wait for a reply, he laid his hand on my shoulder and opened a new portal.

Teleport spell alert! Destination: the House of Night, Small Castle. Accept: Yes/No.

I accepted.

A sonic boom hit my eardrums. I found myself in the portal hall of the Small Palace. Nice digs. Frescoed ceilings, stucco moldings, carved wood and gold everywhere—and lots of it. I dreaded the thought of what the Big Palace might be like.

We hurried along mosaic corridors, the palace guards saluting as we approached. Finally, we stopped by the highest carved doors I'd seen in my life. The mage froze, expectant, then stepped aside, having received a silent command that only he could hear. He motioned me to enter. I stared at the enormous doors, not really knowing how to push or pull them.

I didn't have time to lose face. Noiselessly, the doors swung open, revealing a huge throne room. Massive columns lined the central passage which was tiled with opaque stone speckled with gems and gold dust. It led to a pedestal with two thrones upon it. The bigger and heavier one stood empty. Princess Ruata sat on the smaller one.

I approached, lowering my head. My heart was jumping out of my chest just like it had been when we'd first kissed. I'd already forgotten the effect she produced in me: a mind-blowing cocktail of pheromones and non-verbal messages. The aroma of wild strawberries enveloped me; I swallowed and, unconsciously, made an extra step forward wishing to bury my face in her hair. This wasn't right, surely! I pulled myself together, put on my best friendly face and looked up at her.

Bang. My heart sank to my stomach. Bang. Ecstatic, my inner greedy pig fell flat on his back. She was something, really.

The Princess' eyes were upon me, moist and glowing. An understanding smile fluttered across her lips. She spoke first.

"Be welcome, my savior. It has taken you a while to visit the poor prisoner."

How's that for pure sarcasm!

She rose and descended a couple of steps to my own level, showing the ultimate respect reserved for the most welcome guests. I heaved a sigh and surrendered to her charms. Resisting them was beyond me.

She gave me a studying look. "You haven't wasted your time. You're stronger now. Even here, we have heard about your exploits..."

Fame level 3, I thought.

Her eyes widened. "You bear the Mark of the Fallen One! Have you met him? Did he grace you with his touch?"

At that point, I finally awoke from my stupor. I flexed my neck which still ached, for some unknown reason, where it had met with the sword of Darkness. "If you count a sword stroke as a touch—well, you could say he did indeed."

She shook her head in disbelief, then clapped her hands. In a blink of an eye, a dozen servants had laid a table for two. She motioned me to a high-backed chair.

"Be my guest. Do partake from these fine viands and tell me where you met the Fallen One. I have the right to be curious: I am the priestess of the Dark Temple, the only one in our town. Any manifestation of the Fallen One is sacred to me."

I filled our wine glasses and took a swig, both to show my respect and to wet my throat. "Actually, it was one of the reasons why I'm here."

I didn't want to dwell too much on it. Still, she used all her vast arsenal of persuasion to drag the story out of me. She'd utter little shrieks of horror in all the right places, covering her mouth with her perfectly manicured little hand; then she'd lean against me, as if unwilling to miss some detail, accidentally revealing her already-bulging cleavage. Her mind, though, seemed to work like clockwork as she directed the conversation with well-pointed questions.

"Ruata, please!" I finally begged. "No need to massage my libido. I'm going to tell you everything, anyway. Besides, I have a Paladin girlfriend. You saw us together, didn't you?"

With a chuckle, she shrugged my question off. "A man can have as many women as he wants as long as he can protect them, provide for them and make them happy."

I zoned out, contemplating her words. I wasn't really ready for any kind of relationship. I wasn't even capable of protecting myself, considering I'd only been extricated from the torturer's hook less than three hours ago.

Having said that, where was the Prince of the House, their true protector and provider?

She caught me glancing at the empty throne. Grief clouded her face. "The Prince is dead. He died defending the Second Temple against the Undead of the clans of Light. They'd cut deep into our lands then. But we failed to keep the Temple..."

I couldn't believe my ears. "Pardon me? What do you mean, he's dead? Don't your warriors respawn after battle?"

She gave me an unhurried nod. "The Fallen One is kind to his children. He nearly always grants us the chance to resurrect. But he gets weaker with every perished temple or priest. Recently, he's often left the dead warriors in his palace halls. Four of them didn't come back from the Second Temple battle. For us, it's a lot. The House of Night has no ruler now. That, too, has weakened our position..."

I had no idea that NPCs could die for good. Wonder if it was the developers' smart idea or some software glitch? Otherwise, in another ten years there'd be none of them left. "Why won't you elect a new Prince?"

She tensed up like a puma about to strike. Locking my eyes with her mesmerizing stare, she barely leaned toward me, "Would you like to take his place?"

New Quest alert! The Prince of the House of Night.

The great Prince had been slain in battle defending the Temple. Are you ready to accept the burden of power and the responsibility for the lives of thousands? Prove you're worthy of taking the Prince's throne!

Execution conditions:

Clan leader (met)

Castle owner (not met)

Priest of the Fallen One (not met)

Fame Level 5 (not met)

Level above that of Princess Ruata (current level: 171) (not met)

Be in favor with the Princess (met)

Wow. That was serious. I looked up at the girl. She was greedily waiting for the answer. I swallowed, trying to concentrate. "Ruata, you... I mean, all of you... do you need a proper Prince or just someone to look good on the throne? If I become your Prince—will it give me control over your clan? Will I have access to the treasury? Will I be able to give orders to the cutthroats? Will I have the right to make my own decisions?"

She closed her eyes, pleased with my reply. "You're asking the right things. No, we're not looking for a lapdog to sit on an embroidered cushion. Our clan is desperate for a ruler to control it. With full access to the army, the treasury and full control over the clan members' lives. Including that of one particular Princess."

She looked up at me, defiant. Her nostrils quivered, her chest rising with excitement. Holy mama mia! So many goodies with one free offer! What was the catch?