The nobleman knelt in the smoking chamber and made his petition clearly, without hedging or pretense. He wanted his rival stripped of title. He wanted his wife to conceive the heir she had been denied for fifteen years. He wanted his enemies broken and his wealth to multiply sevenfold. The thing that sat across from him, radiating heat and barely contained hunger, smiled. 'These things can be arranged,' it said. 'Here is the cost.' It listed the terms, and they were severe. The nobleman's first son would die in infancy. He would be able to speak no prayer his entire life. And every seventh year, he would dream of drowning. The nobleman considered this with the same calculation he brought to his ledgers. A son? He could have another. No prayer? He had never particularly enjoyed piety. Dreams? He did not sleep much anyway. 'Agreed,' he said. The thing leaned forward and touched his forehead with something hot enough to burn, and when the nobleman rose, he understood that the bargain was already executing. His rival was probably having a carriage accident in some other part of the city right now. His wife would quicken with child within the moon. He walked out of the temple knowing exactly what he had surrendered and exactly what he had gained, and Asmodeus, watching from the shadows, approved. The Lord of Nessus did not reward those who deceived themselves. He rewarded those hard-eyed enough to see the full cost and pay it anyway...