Day 2: Early Morning

Greg's season comes from the wonderful XarHD ( https://chyoa.com/user/XarHD ), specifically his first season of Harem Hotel, linked here: https://chyoa.com/chapter/Andy-Cooper%2C-a-29-year-old-app-developer-and-entrepreneur.1741953 . No real spoilers for his actual season are used. I have referenced his season with his permission.

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Caelan woke up at dawn as he had learned long ago, the rhythms of his body unchanged by his strange and dangerous new circumstances. Circumstances that he realized were not some horrible dream when he felt the very real presence beside him in his new and luxurious bed, that he was clinging onto for dear life.

He realized he’d awakened before Ionanthe, and he took a moment to admire the slumbering beauty in his arms. For a moment, he considered stroking her hair or even kissing her cheek, but thought better of it. He would let her sleep while he prayed, and she deserved it more than he did. As gently and carefully as he could, he extricated himself from Ionanthe’s embrace and got out of bed. Or rather, he attempted to get out of bed after letting go of Ionanthe, but stopped when she opened her eyes. He realized, meeting her draconic gaze, that she’d likely been awake for far longer than he had.

“And ‘good morning’ to you,” said Ionanthe, when he stared at her.

Reflexively, Caelan returned the greeting, more out of shock than anything else. “I thought that yesterday was all a…” was it truly bad, he wondered, if he had dreamt of being surrounded by six beautiful women he l--cared for dearly, it was safer that way-- in the lap of luxury, even in the circumstances of Harem Hotel? Things could be much worse. “A dream.”

“You did not say it was a nightmare,” teased Ionanthe.

Caelan ignored the comment, instead gathering his thoughts. “I said yesterday, to you and Ginelia, that I agreed to be the Master and play the game, and save all of us. You said you’d help me with that, and I need it. I don’t know where to begin. Could you please help me?”

Ionanthe rolled onto her side and rested her head on her hand, using her elbow to prop herself up to look Caelan in the eye while still lying on her side. Even though she was clad in only her thong, she may as well have worn a queen’s crown and mantle, with how regally she carried herself in the role of advisor. All traces of teasing were gone from her solemn face. “I always will, Caelan. This morning, I have advice and a warning for you. Which would you like to hear first?”

“The warning, please,” said Caelan quickly.

“Very decisive. You will need that,” said Ionanthe. She took a deep breath, then another. “There was a master I saw a lot of, on Faradis’s favorite season of Harem Hotel, who started off like we did. His name was Griff? Greg? Greg. He started as a good man, at the very least good enough, brought here by the host with the women he cared for and even loved.”

Caelan felt a pit form in his stomach as he realized what it meant for a season to be one of Faradis’s favorites. He wanted to say something, but caught himself, letting Ionanthe tell the story.

“He and his harem attempted to escape the show, and they failed. And then he decided that they were solely to blame for it, as though he didn’t lead them,” Ionanthe all but spat out the last part of the sentence, and her draconic eyes flashed, a hint of lightning in an electric blue sky. Her tail whipped menacingly, but even so she was still careful not to hit Caelan.

She then took another breath to calm herself, and continued, although her voice had a faint but present draconic undertone. “Of course, being the Master, he received transformations of his own, which gave him more power over his harem. Power, of course, that he abused, because the women he once loved were no longer people in his mind.”

“What did he do?” Caelan’s voice was quiet. He was not sure which was stronger: his fury at Greg or sorrow at the fates of the women in his harem.

“He had the ability to suggest eliminations to the host. He could have used it to save them the worst fates that awaited the loser of a challenge. But not only did he set them up for elimination,” she paused at Caelan’s gasp, then kept going, “he broke them. One poor woman, I remember, was turned into a dog. I remember how she begged and pleaded for him to stop, reconsider, remember who he was before.”

“And he didn’t even care?” Caelan’s horror was clear on his face.

“Of course, he didn’t fully transform her. She still had to satisfy his needs,” continued Ionanthe, as though Caelan had never spoken. “But in the eyes of the world she was an animal. She could not even hold her own child, such was the sorry state he left her in.”

There was much more, Ionanthe remembered. But if she told Caelan that now, it would be too much. He would turn from righteously angry and determined to save everyone, to hesitant and afraid to even talk to her and the others, even though he needed to do so to save them all. She would only put out the fire she had just lit in him.

Caelan shuddered, and took several moments to string together his thoughts after the horror he had just been told. “I will not become another Greg,” he swore. The conviction in his words was as much as he felt in his paladin oaths to Aldir.

“I’ll take responsibility for all of you,” he continued. “And even though I’m the Master, I won’t **** my power. And I can ask you for help. I don’t need to do it alone.”

He meant his words, genuinely, and he would strive to fulfill his oath. But he was scared, and even more scared and a bit guilty to admit his fear to Ionanthe. What right did he have to be scared of turning into a monster like Greg, when she feared being at the mercy of such a creature?

“Very good,” said Ionanthe. The story of Greg was indeed both sound advice and stern warning, and she was glad Caelan had gotten her meaning. “I will endeavor to advise you like Ernestine von Wedell did King Erhardt.”

“Wasn’t she also his sister?” replied Caelan quizzically, the non sequitur startling him. “And you’re part of my harem.”

“That did not stop the gossip about them.”

Caelan let out an amused huff, and then another when he saw Ionanthe’s grin. While Ionanthe’s quip was not enough to completely break the tension, it did ease it. “Today, I’m going to check in on everyone, after breakfast. They all need it.”

“A sound idea. I think all of them will need it because they’ve woken up and discovered that the Harem Hotel is not just a dream. I think you should also focus on Galatea today because it’s her date tonight, and Emilie because she seemed terrified last night.”

Caelan then threw off the bedsheets that still covered him, and sat up, but did not rise. Instead, he studied Ionanthe. “I’ll start with checking up on you. How are you holding up?”

Ionanthe let out a soft breath. “I’m trying to hold it all together, for your sake, for Emilie’s, hells, for all of us. If I knew as much as I do about Harem Hotel, but I was a mortal woman instead of a dragon, I would be terrified of what awaits me. I’ve seen…” She shut her eyes, and then opened them again.

Caelan waited for her to continue. While a part of him was saddened that she would be afraid of him if she was a mortal, he was more concerned about her than anything, and it seemed that there was more she wanted to say.

Ionanthe’s eyes snapped open, and she finished her thought. She looked at Caelan, infernal red eyes meeting electric blue ones. “I know that there are nicer seasons, wherein everyone remains mostly intact by the end.”

She squeezed Caelan’s hand in both of her own. “I hope you’ll make sure this is one of them.”

“I will.” Caelan’s sincerity almost calmed the dragoness’s fears. And it almost calmed Caelan’s too.

Before either Caelan or Ionanthe could say anything else, they heard a knock at the door. Caelan got up and quickly pulled on his shirt and trousers from the night before while Ionanthe drew the covers over herself to preserve her modesty. He then opened the door, making sure to shield Ionanthe from view with his body. On the other side of the door was Sassafras.

The maid dipped a curtsy to Caelan upon seeing him. “Good morning, Caelan. I see you’re already awake. I hope you and Ionanthe slept well.”

“We did,” said Caelan, not as shocked by Sassafras’s morning greeting as he thought he would be.

“I’m glad to hear that. At Harem Hotel, we strive to provide our Masters the finest comforts we can. I came to fetch Ionanthe, and lead her back to her room. Her right to your room will expire in two minutes, and each contestant, after spending her night with the Master, returns to her room a half hour before breakfast.”

“I’ll let her know,” said Caelan.

He shut the door as politely as he could, and turned around to find Ionanthe pulling her dress back over her head, and trying to get as presentable as she could make herself in less than two minutes.

“So I need to head back to the shared bedroom soon instead of coming to breakfast with you? Okay.” Evidently, Ionanthe had been listening in on the conversation.

“I think so. Do you need any help?” replied Caelan.

“No, but thank you.”

Ionanthe and Caelan shared a goodbye kiss, more than a peck but definitely more chaste than what she had given him last night, before she stepped out to follow Sassafras back to her and Emilie’s room. According to Sassafras, breakfast would be served in half an hour, time Caelan needed alone to collect himself and prepare for the day ahead.

After Ionanthe left, Caelan prayed to Aldir for guidance, unsure if the god could hear him in this strange new demiplane. He also thought about Ginelia. So far, the goddess of lust had seemed polite and nice, both to him and to the others. She’d also claimed that this was a reward for him, so surely she knew he would never want his lo--friends to be hurt? He wondered if she would answer his questions, if he got the opportunity to ask them. But it needed to wait, since checking on everyone was more important.

With that, Caelan stripped off his hastily-donned clothes so he could bathe, using a device called a shower that he had only seen before in his guest rooms in Askania Castle, although this one did not appear to run on a complex runic array. Even though the reality of the situation had set in, he could still notice and appreciate the efforts Ginelia and Sassafras had made for his comfort. After that, he dressed himself in a crisp linen shirt and brown trousers, the clothes feeling much more comfortable than he’d ever thought possible, even though they looked exactly like the ones he had back home.

At least breakfast should be alright, he thought, as he cautiously tapped the dining room on the map on the wall. What could possibly have happened between last night and now?