After fifteen more minutes of marching through a series of opulent halls I was already almost sure they'd been walking me in circles. Then the majordomo finally swung open another pair of doors and stepped aside, allowing me to enter.

Yet another luxurious hall, its thirty-foot ceilings heavy with stucco and frescoes depicting the Drow's exploits. A soft 'the Princess will see you shortly' followed by the inconspicuous sound of the closing doors made me swing round. He'd legged it, the bastard. Very well, I could wait. Ignoring the soft couch and the side table laden with delicacies, I began pacing the hall making the guards of honor by the doors jump to attention every time I went past them.

The hall was sixty paces long and forty wide. Just when I started thinking I'd already worn a groove in the marble floors, the world shuddered again.

Boom! The guards bowed deep as the inner interface flooded me with messages,

Quest completion alert: The Prince of the House of Night. Quest completed!

Reward: a new social status, The Prince of the House of Night.

Congratulations! You've received Achievement: you've become the third person in AlterWorld to occupy a Prince's throne.

Reward: +10,000 to Fame

Congratulations! Your family status has been updated! Princess Ruata has become your wife!

Holy cow. That wasn't the agreement! What was that about the Prince? And his spouse? Didn't I have to make another 100 levels for a successful completion?

I opened my quest logs and looked for the record I needed,

Level above that of Princess Ruata (current level: 71) (met)

Gosh. How had she managed to drop a hundred levels? Taali would kill me and she'd be right. Why would I need this stupid princedom, what for? To be perfectly honest, I'd already bitten way more than I could chew. I was looking at at least another couple of years of simply gaining experience in running my own clan and the castle. All I needed now was a couple of thousand Drow and all the problems they could bring.

Having said that... I cast a patronly glance over the surrounding splendor and the guards with their doglike expression. What was it Ruata had said? A hundred fifty cutthroats and three hundred guards? Yeah, right—I gently shut my inner greedy pig's dropped jaw—plus a whole shedload of other people's problems. Including a marriage I couldn't care less about. Sure, Ruata was fire and ice incarnate, the peak of passion and beauty, totally mind-blowing, forcing you to think with completely different body parts. Still, finding myself licking someone's feet, looking up in devotion waiting for their command to fetch their slippers—that was something I really didn't look forward to.

I shook my head and pursed my lips, thus hitting the right note for my upcoming exchange with the Princess. With a decisive step I approached the bowing guard. "Take me to the Princess, now!"

"Yes, Sir!"

That's better. For the next five minutes we kept winding and unwinding down the stairs, descending deeper and deeper into the bowels of the residence's dungeons. The number of guards at intersections grew, pointing at our approaching an especially guarded object. Finally we arrived at an old archway of black marble intricately carved with archaic pictograms of a long forgotten tongue.

The guard pointedly stepped aside and saluted, making clear his mission was completed. Very well. I could manage on my own now.

In centuries past, countless feet had trodden a groove in the eighty-eight ancient stone steps that led me to an enormous hall, its size concealed by the True Darkness. A barely noticeable walkway was marked by braziers filled with smoldering embers and crimson sparks. It led to the iridescent soap bubble of a magic dome.

I stepped onto the walkway. It crunched and rattled underfoot. This wasn't the right time to enjoy the divine Darkness, so I rummaged through my bag in search of the Torch of True Flame. Yanking it out, I activated a third of its power and recoiled. The entire floor was littered with bones and ancient weapons. Crossbow bolts that sat deep in crumbling skulls, chestplates that spilled loose ribs, helmets crushed by powerful blows and shields smashed into pulp. It appeared to be the remains of a great battle that had once raged under the Temple's walls. The defenders and attackers lay randomly on top of each other, their bodies piled high in some places. The flesh had long been reduced to ashes and the smell had worn off; there was nothing left but bones and steel.

And artifact jewelry, my inner greedy pig pointed out, spying the glimmer of bejeweled rings on a skeleton's fingers that were still clutching an expensive-looking sword. The ruby in its hilt was enormous. True, there was plenty of loot here but we weren't grave robbers, were we? Still I crouched over the body and lowered the torch wishing to read the stats. I didn't want to miss something epic, something lost in the dust of time, capable of moving mountains and shaking the earth.

I brought my face closer, then recoiled. The skull stirred and swayed. A huge hairy spider forced its fat belly out through an eye socket. His beady lavender eyes stared at me with hatred as he waggled his mandibles, a little drop of cloudy yellow venom forming on them. No, thank you very much. Could never stand those eight-legged creepies. I spat in his direction and barely dodged when he spat back, the venom missing me and landing on a massive siege shield that almost covered a dwarf's skeleton. The metal spumed and smoked with corrosion. Ignoring my pride—no one could see me, anyway—I darted out of the creature's range.

Finally, the dome. I probed it with my finger, afraid of poking through the fragile bubble. As if! Not a trace to be seen on the surface as strong as concrete. My attempt to punch it equally failed as the weird material was absorbing my blows without as much as a vibration or sound. I looked around for something more effective and found it: a mace with a top of meteoritic iron.

I'll teach you to have doorbells! I took a swing and bashed at the dome, falling through it, weapon and all. The mace clattered over the floor while I found myself in a position unworthy of a warrior, standing on all fours with my hands flat on the flagstones. You didn't expect me to break my fall with my nose, did you? Grunting, I scrambled to my feet and looked back. The opening had already sealed as instantly as it had opened.

"Liquid steel, UFO technologies," I commented under my breath as I studied the Llos altar unit in the braziers' uneven light.

"The Impregnable Dome Shield," Ruata corrected me, emerging from the shadows. "The Great Goddess can learn from her mistakes. She'll never allow for another eventuality to submit her to oblivion. Hundreds of years ago a group of warriors of Light forced their way into the Temple through deceit and treachery, conducting the Banishing Rite. None of them lived to see the sun again but as the First Temple had already been destroyed, we couldn't summon the Great Mother back."

Ruata's voice changed. She lowered her head, sinking on one knee in front of me. "Greetings, my lord and my husband."

A shiver ran along my spine, my head foggy, my mind ringing with desire. I gulped, taking in the aroma of wild strawberries, unable to force my eyes away from the velvet of her bare neck.

Mental attack!

You've been exposed to some dangerous frequencies!

Pheromone attack!

We are taking measures to block and purge your organism of them.

A wave of freshness ran over my body, washing out any unnecessary hormones and giving my mind a jolt. "Stop it, Ruata. You don't need magic crutches: you're beautiful in your perfection as you are."