Satisfied

In any case, as long as Alleria was satisfied, it was all gravy. Gazing at those emerald green eyes, now curled into mischievous crescents, Duke knew he'd hit a grand slam. Without thinking, Duke's hand drifted to where he'd been kissed. The lingering ghost of that touch, softer than a rose petal, seemed to cling to his forehead, a phantom fragrance tickling his senses.

Alleria, sensing she and Duke had stolen the spotlight and were about to be caught with their hands in the cookie jar, snapped back to her game face.

"Captain Lothar, my folks are the cat's pajamas when it comes to scouting and sentinels. If the enemy's on land, I can promise you, the troops will have the intel before they're within two days' march."

Lothar cracked a grin and nodded. "Thanks for the heads-up. Sadly, our enemies are currently swimming with the fishes. We're leaning on Admiral Daelin's recon fleet and Deputy Commander Edmund's Naga for intel. So, for this upcoming shindig, you and your people might be stuck playing archers for a bit. But hey, we'll keep you out of harm's way, mostly."

"No patch of dirt on a battlefield is safe," Alleria retorted, dead serious.

"I know. You'll figure that out when you and your crew get there." Lothar shot Duke a look, a twinkle in his eye. "Before that, just chill out and wait for the intel to roll in."

Alleria caught Lothar's drift faster than a goblin on a rocket.

First, the combat digs.

It was the second-highest spot on the two hills hugging Southshore Port. The firing positions, built like a brick outhouse from solid stone and mortar, were tougher than old boots. Even a human artillery shell, if it wasn't packing the biggest punch, wouldn't punch through in one go. Crossbows, bows, and arrows? Forget about it.

This position was so perfectly dialed in, it was like it had a bullseye on the elven ranger's bow range. Almost the entire 300 meters from the port docks to the base of the mountain was practically spitting distance for an elf arrow.

And the security? Tighter than a drum. The highest perch was naturally reserved for ballistas, catapults, and cannons. Elven archers formed the second layer, with human javelin soldiers stacked below them as the third, and two layers of spearmen bringing up the rear. This three-tiered defense meant that unless the bottom three layers got completely hosed, the elven archers were safe as houses.

Even if things went sideways, a specially carved-out retreat path along the mountain and a cavern big enough to drive a wagon train through, running from the front of the hill to the back, meant the elven rangers could bail out faster than a greased pig.

Then there was the camp.

It was like Duke had a crystal ball and knew the elves were coming. He'd snagged them a valley so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not only was it crammed with towering trees, but a crystal-clear mountain spring gurgled through it.

Oh, and fruit trees? Like, a gazillion of 'em. It was harvest season, and the valley was practically dripping with fruit, teasing the elves with their juicy bounty.

This was a ranger's dream come true, pure and simple.

Alleria was floored.

"Sis, you told me this guy was just a fifteen-year-old punk, but I don't see anything green about him. He even knows your deepest desires! Heh! You pulled out all the stops this time, practically the entire Windrunner family. It was all for your little Romeo, wasn't it? Nobody's gonna give you grief about this, so why play coy? Just spill the beans!" Sylvanas razzed her elder sister, sharp as a tack.

"Sister, we're family, and I'm pushing a thousand myself. I'm not some little kid. I don't think there's anything to be ashamed of. Humans are here for a blink and gone, so if you like someone, you oughta seize the day. But seriously, next time you have something to say, just say it. No need to trot out some grand world crisis or high-minded righteousness or whatever." Lirath gave her elder sister a respectful bow, but her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Alleria felt like she'd been hit by a runaway cart!

If she and Duke were actually getting it on, that would be one thing. Among the high elves, such dalliances were as common as dirt, and a fair few high elf nobles lived a life of pure decadence.

But she wasn't like that!

She'd always been as pure as the driven snow, but after this whole mess, even her own sisters were looking at her like she was selling snake oil. But Alleria was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

The result… the result…

"You're really twisting the knife now!" Alleria burst into tears, hot and furious.

Now it was Sylvanas and Lirath's turn to be blindsided.

Could it be? Was there really nothing brewing between their elder sister and that human boy?

Meanwhile, Duke was in a complete pickle.

While he was busy playing the big shot for Alleria, High Lord Mograine came knocking before the sun even thought about setting.

Duke was actually looking forward to chewing the fat with Mograine; after all, the guy was a big wig in the history books and a hero who left his mark on Azeroth. Since Duke was all about making friends, they were on a first-name basis faster than you could say "lich."

Who would've thunk it? After Mograine spent a hot minute pretending to talk shop about the war, he totally changed gears and started rambling about visiting Lordaeron more often.

Finally, the cat was out of the bag.

"Ah, Duke, honestly, if you play your cards right as Deputy Commander of the Alliance of Lordaeron this time around, you could marry any beautiful princess you want. Why bother with a high elf whose living habits are like chalk and cheese compared to yours? A true noble needs noble blood to be recognized by other nobles. Elves aren't bad for a good time, though. Oh, and get this, Princess Calia absolutely adored your rose. She told me to tell you she's looking forward to your next masterpiece."

Hold the phone! Is this guy telling me the Princess of Lordaeron is waiting for me to pull a rabbit out of my hat?

Does this mean I have to put on an even more dazzling display for the princess than I did for Alleria today? Oh no, a more perfect gift?

At this moment, Duke's heart was bleeding. He kept kicking himself: Why did I have to play Mr. Cool in front of Princess Calia that night?!

Not wanting to utter another word, Duke decided that the second the Second Dark Gate War was over, he was packing his bags and heading back to his hidey-hole – no, back to Karazhan – to lock himself away and practice magic, seeing absolutely no one!

Duke had originally laid down the law: no visitors.

But as evening crept in, Duke's System AI and his two guards simultaneously went on high alert.

"Who goes there?!" Two voices, a man's and a woman's, cut through the air in perfect unison.

The woman was, naturally, Duke's maid, Vanessa. In a flash, she hiked up the right side of her maid skirt, revealing a pair of pale thighs and a row of neatly tucked throwing knives. If she didn't like what she saw, she'd probably go full rogue, unleashing a fan of blades on any suspicious target.

The man was Duke's new guard, Gavinrad, one of the original five paladins. History took a sharp left turn here. Gavinrad, a paladin from Stormwind and a warrior under Lothar, was originally slated to join the Knights of the Silver Hand. But Llane and Lothar, pulling strings like it was their job, assigned him to Duke.

At that moment, he hefted his hammer, ready to bring the thunder.

Just then, two long, perfectly sculpted legs swung down from the eaves, and Sylvanas' voice, smooth as silk, purred, "Hey, Duke, did you know my elder sister was cooling her heels in jail for three months not long ago?"