“I’ve been living with you for nearly a year now,” I said with a sigh, feeling the paltry weight of a single silver coin on my palm. “I didn’t realize you took me for a five-year-old boy.”
“What’s the problem, Matthew?” asked Arwin, clearly somewhat irritated. Her red hair flowed down her back, and her jade-green eyes were piercing: our lovely princess. The femme fatale herself. She was also the leader of Aegis, one of the foremost adventuring parties in the city. “It’ll only be three days. That should be more than enough for you.”
She had given me three Alnor silvers at the door. Alnors, colloquially known as greatsilvers, were valuable enough to buy three meals and two cups of ale, so she wasn’t wrong, in a sense.
“I am not as naive as you might think,” said Arwin, whose full name was Arwin Mabel Primrose Mactarode. She had been the princess of the Mactarode Kingdom, which once existed in the northern region of the continent.
“I know that. Now you’re a full-fledged adventurer.”
Thanks to a profusion of monsters, the kingdom had been overrun, and the king and queen were dead. Their daughter had gone from relative to relative for help but received very little aid. It’s said there were millions of monsters in the land, even hundreds of millions. Some were creatures from legends and myths, like dragons and behemoths. All the other countries on the continent together did not have enough soldiers to eliminate a threat like that.
“Then don’t waste my time,” she snapped. “I’m not putting my life on the line to satisfy your selfish whims.”
Her only hope at that point was the Astral Crystal, a legendary treasure said to make any wish come true. So she gathered like-minded companions to tackle the great dungeon known as the Millennium of Midnight Sun.
“Of course not. I’m aware of your noble goals. Ordinarily, I would wish to be right there, fighting at your side. I can only curse my own lamentable lack of strength.”
In keeping with its reputation, the Millennium of Midnight Sun was a treacherous place. It was not just a collection of basement rooms or caves. The place was swarming with monsters, and traps were hidden around every corner. The dungeon itself was like one titanic monster. And if those things weren’t bad enough, your fellow adventurers were also your competitors. Danger awaited at every step.
“So have some patience. If the quest drags on, it will only delay the reclamation of my kingdom. And I do not have time to waste.”
The beautiful princess could not pause in her quest. She was determined to rebuild her kingdom for the sake of her beloved people—a crusade that earned her the epithet of the Crimson Princess Knight. The survivors of Mactarode called her a goddess or a valkyrie. And now the faithful companion at the princess’s side was none other than me.
“I know well your aspirations,” I said, “and it is with them in mind that I ask you. Money comes before all else. You can’t buy food without money, and you won’t earn any treasure without it, either. Besides, you know this dungeon isn’t going to be conquered in the next day or two.”
She was delving to the seventeenth floor today, but no one knew how many floors were in the dungeon. Not a single soul had reached the bottom of the Millennium of Midnight Sun since it was discovered.
To conquer the dungeon, one would have to reach the core on the lowest floor and then destroy or remove it. That core was none other than the Astral Crystal. According to legend, it had instantly turned deserts into greenery in the past, and it brought the dead back to life.
“Most importantly, you are laboring under a mistaken assumption.”
“What is that?” she asked.
“You have misjudged a man’s pride. If it were only me who needed money, this would do. But that is not the case. I have an agreement to share drinks tonight.”
“So? Go and enjoy your night,” she said, her expression making her disdain more than apparent.
“The problem is, when a man spends time with someone, he has to really participate. He can’t be sipping his lonely little cup of ale just to save money.”
“Then I ask you,” Arwin said, eyes flashing, “why I should be giving you money you’ll use to slip into some other woman’s bed.”
My occupation, according to the rest of the world, is kept man. They call me other things, too: male prostitute, gigolo, boy toy, philanderer, lady-killer, playboy, man-whore, scum. While the nuances are many, the main implication is easy to understand. I let the woman do the work and spend my days idly, battling boredom and free time rather than monsters and traps. Occasionally, I enjoy a drink or a roll of dice. Some of these men make passes at other women. It’s an occupation viewed with equal parts disdain and jealousy.
“I’ll be doing no such thing. I’m only having drinks,” I said placatingly. If I do say so myself, I’m a good-looking man, with neatly cut dark brown hair and brown eyes that make the ladies swoon. For now, however, my many gifts are reserved for Her Highness the princess knight.
Even the navy-blue tunic and baggy black pants I wear now had been paid for with Arwin’s money.
“Don’t lie to me. If you think I’m ignorant, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Now, don’t be cross—”
“And don’t think you can sweet-talk your way out of this,” she said, slapping my hand as I reached for her shoulder. I wasn’t going to give up so easily, of course. I reached out again, but she brushed me off a second time.
“Really?” I asked, stroking her hair with the other hand—gently, of course, so as not to snag or harm it. The sensation was like touching the finest silk. And despite the daily battles and toil, the color was rich and lustrous. Was that thanks to her noble birth or her upbringing? I’d heard that the rich and mighty bathed in water infused with honey and herbs. Perhaps Arwin had used even finer materials. She was a princess, after all.
“Ah! Hey,” she protested weakly. I ignored that, brushing past her reddened earlobe to the nape of her neck and trailing down her back with my fingers. Once they’d passed the end of her hair near her butt, I reversed the process and combed my fingers up her back from there. With my other hand, I pressed my fingertips to the whorl of hair on her head and massaged outward. It was a gentle, reassuring gesture, done in recognition of her hard work. Good girl.
“Stop that.”
“You like it, don’t you?” I whispered into her ear.
“Mm!” she whimpered, cheeks flushing. She tried so hard to pretend she was above this.
Of course, a kept man cannot get by on good looks alone. He must know the tricks of the trade, too. And he won’t last on bodily gifts alone, either. He’d bore his woman and be thrown out with the trash unless he had a charming tongue and a knack for tender care. Sometimes he soothed and coaxed her, and sometimes he would fawn and beg for her attention. Men on the seedier side might use violence to extract their money from the woman by force, but that’s not my style. For one thing, I couldn’t beat Arwin in a fight.
“S-stop.” She grabbed my wrists and pushed them away from her. “You won’t fool me with your transparent ruse,” she said, panting and glaring as she fixed her hair.
So much for that. I should’ve known the same trick wouldn’t work every time. I was just wondering what to try next when there was a knock at the door.
“Your Highness? The sun will be up if we don’t leave soon, Your Highness.”
That was Ralph the warrior. He was a member of Aegis, a strapping lad of twenty or so, and completely besotted with Arwin. Listen to the way he wheedled her.
“There, you see? Your pointless resistance has caused your escort to show up for you.”
“You’re right. I don’t have time for this,” she said.
I decided on my course of action and clasped her hand. “The time has come for a decision, then. Will you pay me a gold piece, or will I be a miserable cheapskate who can’t buy his friend a single drink?”
“Your Highness!” The door opened, and when he saw us, the blond boy promptly turned beet red. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
He grabbed my shirt. Ordinarily, I might find this gesture quite terrifying, but owing to my full head’s worth of height advantage over Ralphie, all he could do was bare his teeth like a monkey grabbing for a snack.
“I haven’t done a thing,” I said, shaking my head. “We were a little rougher than usual yesterday, that’s all. I was checking that I didn’t leave a hickey.”
There was a whistle from the doorway; a group of four people were entering the room, all members of Arwin’s party. The six of them, including Ralphie, had a daily routine of delving into the dungeon.
“Enough of your jokes, you wretch.”
“Oh, I’m not joking. Both you and I are doing what we can for our fair princess knight. You swing your sword in the dungeon during the day, and I swing my hips in bed at night. They’re equally valuable services.”
In an instant, his fist was buried in my cheek. My head rattled as I collapsed to the floor. Before I could get up, Ralphie was stomping on my stomach and side.
“A knave like you deserves nothing better! Take that! And that!”
“That’s enough,” said his fellow Aegis member Lutwidge, a white-haired and wrinkled man wearing platinum-and-silver-plate mail. He looked like a chamberlain now, but in the past, he had served Mactarode as a knight. “Don’t waste your strength before heading into the dungeon. And keep your jests to a minimum, Matthew.”
“Fine, fine, consider me chastised,” I said, patting the dusty footprints off my clothes. Ralphie’s punches and kicks weren’t that painful. General physical sturdiness was one of my few positive qualities. Most blows felt like caresses to me.
“Sorry for teasing you. Want a piece of candy? Made it myself.”
“No!”
Too bad. They were pretty tasty.
“Matthew,” Arwin said, extending a hand to me, “I must be off now. Don’t be greedy.”
“All right.” I took her hand and pulled myself up, taking advantage of the momentum to lean close to her ear. “And are you…satisfied? Will you be able to bear it?”
“…It won’t be an issue.”
“If you need more, you can come back whenever you’re ready. You don’t want to hold off for so long that you start losing concentration.”
“Not to worry. I’ll be fine,” she said, turning her head away in a huff and pushing past the others to leave the room. Such a stubborn girl.
“Best of luck,” I said, waving a handkerchief. Ralph gave me an openly derisive click of the tongue and closed the door. I counted to fifty before opening my palm.