The first floor of the Drunken Night had been closed off last night for simple renovations. After all, this was Sedona City's first-ever auction. If it was handled poorly, it would reflect badly on the city's reputation, and Lucas would be mocked.
Clop clop clop...
The moment Lucas walked through the main doors, he heard Annie's bright voice. "Master, you're here."
"Good evening, Your Excellency Lucas (My Lord)," Dahlia, Elisa, and Freya greeted him. The others had stayed back at the castle.
"How are the preparations?" Lucas scanned the first-floor hall. It looked passable—not great, but not too bad, either.
"We're all set. We can begin at any time," Dahlia said earnestly. She was a bit nervous; after all, this was her first time acting as an auctioneer.
"Don't be nervous. Just follow the script I gave you," Lucas said gently. He had given her a script in advance, which even included how to handle unexpected incidents.
"Okay." Dahlia looked at Lucas's handsome face and felt inexplicably at ease. Perhaps... she just wanted to do well in front of him.
"Chris, take over security," Lucas instructed, turning to the man behind him.
"Yes, my lord." Chris gave a few hand signals to the War Wolf Squad, and his men immediately dispersed to line the sides of the hall.
"Let's go. The show is about to begin." Lucas strode toward the single table at the very front of the hall, right before the auction stage. It was reserved for his own people.
Behind it were more tables, reserved for those with gold-threaded invitations—the VIP tables. Further back were rows of densely packed chairs for the ordinary invitation holders, who would be seated according to the number on their invitation.
Lucas sat at the very front table with Elisa, Annie, and Mina. He glanced at the stage, where Dahlia stood next to Freya. The wolf-eared girl was serving as security tonight, protecting both Dahlia and the auction items.
Clop clop clop...
Just then, the nobles and merchants outside, having had their invitations verified, began to file in. Following the staff's directions, they found their seats according to their invitation numbers.
"What? Why am I so far back? Who... who wants to switch seats with me? I'll pay one gold coin!"
"I'll switch with you."
"Get lost! Your seat is even further back than mine! Scram!"
"..."
Everyone filing in realized that the further back their seat, the lower their perceived status. This was not a welcome realization for any of them.
"Number 350? Ferguson, don't tell me we're at the last table?" Rossa peered at the number, her expression souring. Sitting this far back, how are we supposed to see the pink pearl?
"Er... that's... probably the case," Ferguson laughed sheepishly. He couldn't believe that the fat merchant he'd pickpocketed had such a low-number invitation.
"It's fine. We're in, that's what matters," Hound said, trying to smooth things over.
"Hmph!" Rossa snorted, walking off toward the last table with an angry sway of her hips.
"Whew..." Ferguson sighed, exchanging a bitter smile with Hound. Women... not easy to deal with.
...
"Damn it, why are we so far back?!" Kevin's expression was ugly as he stared at his invitation. "Number 32?" This was a long way from the three exclusive tables at the front.
"Calm down. We'll use our gold to win back our dignity later," Scott said coldly. He shot a glance at the smug-looking Patrick, that arrogant bastard, at one of the VIP tables. They couldn't lose face for the Fourth Prince.
Just as vexed as Scott and Kevin was Raymond. He also held an ordinary invitation, number 45, which seated him some distance from the other two, and worlds away from the front. It was deeply embarrassing.
Patrick wasn't about to pass up such a perfect opportunity to humiliate him. He sauntered over to Raymond and said with a sneer, "Comfortable back here? Why don't you come join me at the front?"
Before Raymond could even reply, Patrick let out an exaggerated "Ah!"
"Oh, look at my memory," He said, his voice dripping with disdain. "I almost forgot. You can't afford a gold-threaded invitation, can you?"
"You... Don't get too arrogant!" Raymond seethed, grinding his teeth so hard they audibly clicked. He was being humiliated... and what made it worse was seeing several merchants sitting at the front VIP tables. He was biting his gums so hard he tasted blood.
"Alas, it seems the First Prince is quite poor. He can't even buy his envoy a decent invitation." Patrick left this parting shot and sauntered away.
As he passed Scott and Kevin, he sneered, "Shabby."
"Damn it! That bastard!" Kevin was furious. He desperately wanted to punch that smug look right off Patrick's face.
...
"Heehee... Master, the plan is a success!" Annie giggled like a little fox that had just stolen a treat. This plan to sow discord was her idea, and the Master had helped her perfect it.
"It's good that they're angry," Lucas said calmly. They had investigated Patrick's personality. His intelligence was decent, but he had two fatal flaws: he was hot-tempered, and he loved to show off.
Elisa snuck a peek at Lucas's profile, and her heart gave an odd leap. She quickly turned away. She hadn't felt this way yesterday, but Dahlia's words from the morning made her feel inexplicably flustered.
...
Mina's eyes continued to scan the room. She noticed Elisa's blush but didn't dwell on it.
Creeak~
The clock struck eight. The main doors of the Drunken Night swung shut. Fifty soldiers were posted outside; the doors would not open again until the auction was finished.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please quiet down. I am Dahlia, and I will be your auctioneer for this evening," Dahlia's clear voice rang out.
The murmuring crowd fell silent. Dahlia was, after all, one of the "Five Marvelous Women" of the capital. She had a reputation, and many people were willing to show her respect. Who knew which powerful noble scion she might marry one day? It was best not to get on her bad side.
But what most people thought, not everyone did.
"Hey! How much for the beastkin next to her? I'll buy her!" A boisterous voice suddenly shouted, jarringly loud in the silenced hall.
"It's him?" Scott turned his head. He recognized the man who had spoken. He was a Viscount, same as himself, and had once bid against him for a female slave at another auction.
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