"Yes, Your Highness. Did you discover anything of importance in the man's room?" "No. Draw me a bath, Mellie. He--he caught me--and kissed me!" The maid, with flasks of perfume and aromatic oils in her hand, paused, discreetly impudent. "You seem not displeased, Your Highness." "But of that he had no inkling." And Princess Sira laughed. "I left him standing, utterly at a loss. He took me for a common assassin, and yet he wanted to kiss me. That pleased me. But if he had valuable information he kept it. And I promised him death for his kiss." * * * * * As Princess Sira, claimant to the throne of a planet, slipped into the tepid waters of her bath, Mellie stood by, her smooth little Martian's face disturbed. For she loved her mistress, and could not comprehend the things she did under ambition's sway. "Your Highness, couldn't you let your royal friends do these dangerous things for you?" "For what? For fear? And how could a Martian princess who knows fear lay claim to a throne? No, Mellie, one gets used to it. The enemies of the house of Sira are ever alert. Didn't they murder my father and my mother, and my only brother? My peril in this palace is as great as in the room of a terrestrial detective. Only their fear of the people--" She was interrupted by the tinkling of a bell. The maid left the alcove, and returned a moment later with the news that Joro, Prince of Hanlon, awaited the princess's pleasure in the ante-room. "At this hour!" exclaimed the princess. "Did he say what brought him here?" "Something about a new plot." "Plots! They fall thicker than rain on Venus. Bid him wait." Fifteen minutes later, swathed in a trailing orange silk robe that made her look like a Venus orchid, she greeted the prince. "Greetings, Joro. We seem to have the unusual this night." The prince, a thin, elderly man of medium stature, smiled admiringly. His sharp features and bright little button eyes gave some hint of the energy which suffused him. Here was a man both ruthless and loyal to his royal house. He addressed her by her given name. "The hour seems to make no difference with you; Phobos has set, but as long as you are awake there is loveliness enough. I have come, dear one, to tell you that success is ours at last!" * * * * * Sira smiled. "I will restrain my joy, my good Joro, until I hear the price." "Always the same!" Joro chuckled. "A price, 'tis true, but not too heavy, since you are, in a manner, fond of him." "I've had vague promises from Wilcox," Sira said, with a wry smile. "I would rather trade places with Mellie than be espoused by that madman."