The Auction House (2)
Luid called Irene Windsor a lunatic for one simple reason: her actions were impossible to predict.
Case in point—right now.
The reason Irene had suddenly attacked him was…
"I was worried."
Worried, apparently. Whether his barrier was sturdy enough. Whether it actually worked. So she'd put it to the test.
"Being this weak, how do you expect to survive in the Imperial Capital?"
"…I'd be living just fine if it weren't for you."
Irene responded with a deep, radiant smile.
"Sassing me, are we?"
"That's not what I meant."
Luid shot back instantly. Then, with a dissatisfied expression, he crossed his arms and asked, "So. Why are you here?"
Irene strode over and ruffled his hair. She cupped his cheek, tilted his chin up with her thumb, and forced their eyes to meet.
"I missed you."
But Luid knew better. This lunatic never moved without a pretext. He stared at her hard, and only after a slow beat did she answer.
"Father wants the recording crystal you're in. And while I was at it, I thought I'd come see my little brother too."
So that was the real reason.
Luid let out a faint sigh.
Irene's gaze slid to Hershey, who was trembling like a leaf beside him.
"A new friend?"
"Yeah."
"How cute. She reminds me of your childhood friend back in the North. My little brother's tastes never change, do they."
Honestly, Hershey was terrified of Irene.
It was her presence that was frightening. Her voice was soft and gentle, her face wore a warm smile—and yet.
…Merely being looked at sent a chill crawling up her throat.
But letting fear excuse a lapse in etiquette was grounds for disqualification as a noble. Hershey answered with as much courtesy as she could muster.
"Thank… you. It's an honor to meet you. My name is Hershey Minerva. I-I'd love to meet Luid's childhood friend in the North sometime, if the chance ever arises."
Irene nodded.
"You're both white and fluffy, so I'm sure you'll get along wonderfully."
"…Sis."
Luid glared at her.
"Not the arctic-fox kind of friend. A girl. A human one. Does Hershey look like an arctic fox to you?"
Irene slowly turned her head toward him. Something new flickered in her flat, expressionless eyes.
"Oh. So she wasn't a pet."
Irene realized her misunderstanding.
Only Windsor could stand equal to Windsor. The sole exception was, perhaps, the Emperor himself. That was why the very notion of a friend—in the sense of an equal—had never crossed her mind. Luid, after all, called even monsters his friends.
There had been no malice in it.
"My apologies. My brother's friend. Your name was…"
She'd heard it moments ago, but it hadn't stuck. Luid helped her out.
"Hershey."
"Hershey."
Irene beamed and patted Hershey's head as well.
"Be good to each other."
"Hik—"
Hershey hiccupped. Irene paid it no mind and turned her attention back to Luid.
"Where is Amelia?"
"No idea. Probably wherever the Swordsmanship Club people are."
"And where's that?"
"…You went to the Academy too, Sis. You know exactly where."
Irene slowly shook her head.
"I was expelled on my first day, remember."
"…Expelled?"
That was news even to Luid. Irene blinked, still smiling. For a long while she simply looked at him without a word.
Luid waited in silence. Only then did she speak.
"Do you really want to know?"
"…No."
Luid shook his head, turning pale.
"Good. Then I'll see you later, Lui."
Irene walked away at a leisurely pace.
Hershey, frozen stiff, turned around belatedly to offer a bow—
But by then, she was already gone.
"Huaah."
Hershey collapsed onto the floor, cold sweat soaking through her clothes.
So that… is the heir of Windsor.
Hershey swallowed dryly.
If I marry Luid someday… I'll have to follow after someone as terrifying as her, won't I.
She was worrying about things that hadn't even happened yet.
The Imperial Capital's auction house, Mediabali, operated under unusual rules.
It only opened once at least five items of sufficient value had been gathered—and anyone who wasn't nobility couldn't set foot inside to begin with.
Even among nobles, however, not everyone could enter Mediabali. Each visitor had to prove they possessed the means to actually purchase what was on offer.
Luid headed for the counter with Hershey in tow.
"Oh my."
The clerk assisting with identity verification covered her mouth at the sight of the two figures in Academy uniforms.
One was an adorable little boy; the other was a young lady slightly older, but every bit as adorable. Both radiated the unmistakable bearing of high nobility's children—anyone could tell at a single glance.
She greeted them with a bright, crinkled-eyed smile and a respectful bow.
"Welcome to Mediabali, fine sir and lovely madam. Is your party just the two of you?"
"Yes!"
Hershey answered brightly.
"Our sincerest apologies, but Mediabali admits only those carefully vetted for entry. Would you have something that can verify your identity?"
Hershey drew the crest of House Minerva from her coat.
"I am Hershey Minerva, eldest daughter of Minerva."
Luid said just one word.
"Windsor."
For Luid, that was proof enough. No fool alive would dare impersonate Windsor—and his brilliant golden hair and vivid azure eyes said the rest.
The clerk bowed deeply in respect, then handed over two silver bracelets.
"These bracelets are enchanted with recognition-obfuscation magic. They are also the token of a Mediabali guest. Should you lose one, you will find yourself in a very difficult position—so please, do take care!"
Luid gave a small nod and slipped the bracelet on.
…His wrist was so thin that it hung loose. Narrowing his eyes, he used magic to shrink it down to size.
Then again, these nobles really do love their gold.
Entering the auction hall with Hershey, Luid glanced around. Red and gold clung to every surface, as if they were the official colors of the aristocracy.
"Is this your first time at Mediabali, Luid?"
"Yeah."
The reason he'd come today was the Headmaster's suggestion. If Rach's Orb changed hands carelessly, it would stir up scandal—so he'd been told to win it through auction instead. Cleaner that way, supposedly. The Headmaster had promised to cover the winning bid, whatever the amount. Surely even a money-grubbing Headmaster wouldn't fleece a student of his own Academy.
"Since we're here, maybe I'll buy something."
"Ah, then you can grab a catalog over there."
"Nope. If I look at that first, it's boring."
"Is it?"
"Half the fun is wondering what's coming up next. Without that anticipation, it's dull."
Luid plopped down in a random general-admission seat.
The bracelet on his wrist pointed toward the VIP section, but he wanted no chance of running into Irene. She was far stricter than she looked—if etiquette slipped even a little, she'd chew you out.
Amelia, for all her strict posturing, was a clumsy fool by comparison. Irene would actually scold you.
"So what is it you want, Luid?"
"…Hmm. If bedding material comes up, maybe I'll grab some."
"B-bedding?"
"Phoenix feathers glow, so they're a bit much to use as bedding."
Truthfully, Luid felt no real need for a blanket. He could simply exude a thick layer of mana and drape it softly over himself—cozy as anything.
Half-slouching into his chair, he asked, "Anything you want, Hershey?"
"…Well. Your lecture recording, Luid. I'm going to try for it."
"Why? You've already seen it in person."
Hershey subtly averted her eyes.
"I just… want to have it."
"With our deepest gratitude to all who have graced Mediabali with your presence today, we shall now begin the auction."
A woman's voice filled the hall. It was the same woman who'd checked their identities earlier.
Diligent, isn't she.
The auctioneer is the host, after all. She must have been Countess Carolina Vali, owner of Mediabali. A woman of her station handling even the grunt work herself…
Rich people are rich for a reason.
He could respect someone who worked that hard.
"Our first item is the Heart of Rene, an artifact. It can form protective barriers against hostile magic, or amplify a mage's mana output to allow the casting of immensely powerful spells…"
One of Luid's eyes tinted with blue light. He wanted to gauge the artifact's true magical worth.
"What, it's nothing special."
"Whatever the auctioneer says, it's mostly worn as a necklace. The Heart of Rene is worth more as a jewel than as an artifact."
"Lot 124, one thousand gold. Three thousand gold!"
"Ah—the gentleman over there bids fifty thousand gold! Whoever his fiancée is, I'm sure she'll be delighted!"
Fifty thousand gold is roughly half a billion in my old money… burning half a billion on a necklace?
Luid shook his head slowly.
"No matter how rich you are, spending fifty thousand gold on a luxury item is absurd."
"I was thinking exactly the same thing! If I were the fiancée, I'd think a man who wasted fifty thousand gold on an artifact like that was pathetic."
Hershey chimed in with a bright laugh.
"I've always thought so, but you and I really are on the same wavelength, Luid!"
In truth, Hershey believed that what mattered was the person, not the gift.
If Luid ever gave her a present, she'd be happy whether it was cheap—he's so frugal—or expensive—he put this much thought into me. Either way.
"Spending money on useless things. I'll never understand it. Money only ever runs out if you keep spending it."
With that thought, Luid watched the auction calmly.
It was the largest auction house in the Imperial Capital, and the sums reflected it. Pricey lots regularly went for a hundred thousand gold or more.
If the goods were worth those prices, fair enough—but from Luid's perspective, most of it was utterly worthless junk.
"Next up—not an item, but a pet! Think of it as a pleasant interlude! These little ones dwell only in small pockets of the North, and acquiring one took considerable effort. An utterly adorable arctic fox!"
Luid's eyes went wide.
A plump, snow-white fox waddled in, wiggling its rump.
Compact build. By the standards of Luid, arctic fox enthusiast, it looked to be about a year old.
Its face was immaculate—especially that glossy black nose, twitching this way and that. That was the highlight.
Hershey echoed him, as she always did.
"It's adorable. But paying a fortune for a pet like that is, no matter how you look at it, a wasteful—"
"We shall open the bidding at one hundred gold—"
Luid hammered the red button on his armrest with mindless abandon.
"One hun— a hundred thousand gold…! Sold, to Lot 34!"
"Should've just brought one from home."
Irene watched Luid delight over his newly won arctic fox and smiled quietly.
When it came to things like this, he was a child through and through.
"Missing the North, are we?"
She tilted her head.
Amelia being the eccentric one was understandable, but why was Luid—who hated nothing more than bothersome tasks—still clinging to the Academy? She couldn't wrap her mind around it.
Why not cause one catastrophic incident, like she had, and get expelled in one clean stroke?
Hm. Perhaps I should just take Luid himself, recording crystal and all.
A fleeting, dangerous thought.
Just then, a figure in a white robe took the seat beside her.
Without so much as a glance to the side, Irene spoke in a low voice.
"I'll assume you're here in some capacity of surveillance, so I'll dispense with formalities."
The robed man gave a soft chuckle and pulled back his hood.
It was Lucius, the young Emperor of the Empire.
"No deceiving you, it seems. Or is it that this robe's power to fool even a Great Magician has gone faulty?"
"Few people could sit beside me and remain standing, Your Majesty."
Irene smiled serenely.
The entire front row around her sat empty—emptied by the sheer pressure she exuded. Only someone of a certain caliber, or an absolute ruler, could endure her aura.
"Must you sit there so murderously?"
Irene turned her head to meet the Emperor's gaze head-on.
"If it is discourtesy, I shall retract it."
The Emperor waved a hand.
"Enough. I care little for crowds myself."
Irene was always smiling. But her eyes betrayed no emotion whatsoever, and her speech was bone-dry.
Yet even facing the Emperor himself, her bearing was proud—audacious, almost, without ever truly crossing the line, and her language remained impeccably courteous.
She observed etiquette as a rule, but at unpredictable moments she would pluck the line out of the ground and skip over it like a rope.
In a word: no one had the faintest idea what went on inside her head.
Which was why the Emperor, whenever describing Irene Windsor, always said the same thing.
A madwoman.
When she eventually inherits the title… she will be a headache.
Truth be told, the Emperor had always hoped Amelia would inherit the Duchy rather than Irene.
Irene was simply a person one preferred not to face.
But even an Emperor could not force his way into the Windsor succession.
I hold no great hopes from this. Still, it should be enough to earn a flicker of disappointment from the Duchess of Windsor.
Luid's recording crystal.
He had come in person to obtain it—partly out of greed, yes, but more importantly…
Because he knew that the Duchess of Windsor, as he knew her, would inevitably send Irene to acquire it.
The Duchess of Windsor was, after all, a prodigiously devoted fool of a mother to her son.
Attempting to sound out Irene's thoughts, the Emperor asked:
"You have come for that as well, haven't you."
"If you mean my brother's recording crystal—yes. I have."
The Emperor narrowed his eyes slyly and spoke without much hope.
"…Hand it over. That is an imperial command."
Irene Windsor beamed, and answered on the instant, as if the words held not one shred of worth.
"No."
The Emperor sighed.