Stolen by the Rebel King
Chapter 44: The Gibbous Auction House

Chapter 44: The Gibbous Auction House

Viscount Attonson ― no, Eugene ― had led Daphne to a bustling street in town.

They had left the palace shortly after their conversation, with Daphne sneaking back into her room to change into something simpler first. She wasn’t going to risk getting robbed outside just because she was naive enough to wear all her glittering jewelry out with her.

The only accessory she kept on were the dangling earrings that Atticus had given her.

She was utterly furious at that idiotic man but there was just something about the garnet earrings that made her feel safe. Daphne was careful enough to style her hair in a way so that the earrings were hidden by her hair and could only be seen if she swung her head around hard enough.

On the other hand, there was no need for Eugene to change. He was already dressed a little more casual than the last time Daphne had seen him at the ball. While he was a handsome man, there was just something about Eugene Attonson that seemed so... normal.

It wasn’t a bad thing per se but for all her life, Daphne had associated the nobility with all the glitz and glamor of the world. The people of the noble circle were like untouchable stars in the sky, brilliant and bright in their own ― occasionally destructive ― ways.

However, Eugene Attonson was the only deviation from the norm.

Now that they were walking among the crowd of common folk in town, Daphne would lose sight of Eugene if she even lost focus for a second. He walked very quickly too, his long legs creating strides that would take Daphne two steps just to keep up with his one.

"We’re here," Eugene finally said, stopping short in front of a seemingly ordinary theater house.

Only, sneaked glances left and right could tell Daphne enough that this building was anything other than ordinary. Even though it was smack dab in the center of a lively avenue catered to the peasants, the people that entered the theater were anything but that. For one thing, they were dressed like commoners but the materials that were used to make their clothing were expensive.

"Put this on, My Lady," Eugene instructed, holding out a simple black mask.

"What is this for?" Daphne asked. Though, she did as told, taking the mask and immediately securing it to her face. Eugene did the same.

"They are charmed to hide your identity," he explained. "They only cover half your face, not quite effective in completely hiding your appearance among a pool of people that are of your usual social circle. Add on the fact that you’re the queen, it would be better not to be recognized."

When Daphne had the mask secured, she looked at Eugene.

It was quite peculiar how magic worked. She could see him and knew from his clothing that he was who she arrived at the theater with, but even though nothing about his appearance had changed, Daphne wouldn’t be able to confidently declare that he was Viscount Attonson if she hadn’t already known beforehand.

If they had gone their separate ways right this instant, Daphne wasn’t sure if she would be able to find him again.

"Quite wonderful, isn’t it?" Eugene commented with a smile. He held out a hand, waiting for Daphne to take. Then, as if he had read her mind, he said, "Better hold on if you don’t wish to get lost in the crowd."

Daphne didn’t need to be told twice. She looped her arm with Eugene’s, allowing him to lead her further into the theater. When they finally reached the end of the dark corridor and into the main theater space, Daphne gasped.

The entire room was dimly lit, with spotlights gathered at the stage. There were seats right at the very first floor of the theater, rows upon rows that were filled with people wearing similar masks. Yet, there were a couple of booths further up on the higher levels, looking down at the stage in a more private space, allowing only two to sit and maybe two more to stand behind for security.

If Daphne had to guess, it seemed like at least a fifth of Vramid’s upper echelon were gathered here for today’s auction.

"I’ve prepared a booth upstairs," Eugene whispered. "We’ll have a better view from there."

Daphne nodded, following in quiet awe as they reached an empty booth that was shielded from prying eyes by a set of curtains. She sat down on the plush velvet armchair, admiring the view from up above right as the lights dimmed even further.

It was about to begin.

In no time at all, a man wearing a mask similar to Daphne’s own walked up to the podium.

The air seemed to thicken with anticipation.

"A warm welcome to our guests. I sense a few unfamiliar faces in our audience!" The crowd tittered at the joke. With their masks on, everyone was an unfamiliar face.

Daphne felt her lips curving into a smile.

"To our frequent patrons, welcome back! It is with your support that Gibbous Auction House continues to thrive." The announcer cleared his throat. "Once again I must repeat the rules to ensure fairness in the auction process.

"Firstly, if an item has been claimed by someone else, you can only hope to outbid them. If you fail, there’s no second chance.

"Secondly, if you fail to pay your winning bid for an item within 3 days, you will be blacklisted in all of our auction houses. Gibbous Auction House also has the right to seize whatever property you might have to pay.

"Lastly, all items on auction are non-refundable after the final payment.

"With that, I declare the auction open!"

There was thunderous clapping from the audience. The lights seemed to brighten even more, almost blinding her as the first item was wheeled out to multiple gasps from the audience.

It was a sword with multiple rubies encrusted on the hilt.

"Ladies and gentlemen, feast your eyes on this heirloom from the lost kingdom of Azter! Said to banish misfortune, this sword was a favorite of their nobility. Fashioned by the renowned swordsmiths, their swords were tempered with magic so they remained sharp even without maintenance. No armor could withstand a cut from them."

There was widespread whispering as everyone stared at the sword. Daphne was puzzled.

"How did they get this sword then, if it was from a lost kingdom?" she asked Eugene, who only snorted.

"Pirates, smugglers, merchant guilds... If one has the money and the right connections, anything is possible. Or it could simply be a fake. Who’s to know?"

"Starting the bid at 1000 gold pieces!"

Daphne choked at the price. "That is too expensive!"

"Remember," the auctioneer continued, "bids are only allowed in increments of two hundred of the same coin."

Who would even spend so much money on a fancy sword? To her surprise, multiple hands went up, and a furious bidding war started.

"1000 gold!"

"1200 gold!"

"1400 gold!"

When it was sold at last to a willowy woman, Daphne wondered how someone could stomach spending 2000 gold on a sword they most likely weren’t going to use. Did Vramid’s nobles have so much gold to spare they could spend it so frivolously? Were they stealing from the crown, from Atticus?

The thought of Atticus made her frown. She shook her head; she refused to think of him now. To think there was something this exciting right in his kingdom, yet he never bothered to tell her! What a fantastic husband he was.

"Such a lovely sword. Bet she’s going to use it to open letters," Eugene commented mischievously, disrupting her train of thought.

"If I spent 2000 gold on this, I would even use it to slice butter," Daphne replied, and they both started snickering like children.

The rest of the auction proceeded in a similar fashion, with increasingly rare and exotic items wheeled out. Daphne’s eyes sparkled in joy; she was enraptured with the items and the stories.

Eugene was also proving himself to be a great companion on this outing, he offered historical tidbits and witty comments that made her giggle like a schoolgirl.

Daphne wondered why she was even afraid of him to begin with. Eugene was clearly a cultured scholar. He read widely and had a keen interest in artifacts.

Together, they marveled at the auction items.

A gilded golden skull from Crosest, created when a younger sister drowned her abusive older brother in a vat of molten gold.

A giant jade lion statue from Santok, carved by 30 skilled craftsmen under the night of the full moon to redirect misfortune.

A bedroom outfit made out of pearls and silver, all the way from Nedour, claiming to give the wearer children.

Daphne snorted. If this was what Nedour’s women were wearing, no wonder Cordelia was so comfortable flaunting her chest in front of Atticus. She clearly wanted a child from Atticus during that night!

Just the very thought made her blood boil.

Then Daphne remembered, once again, that she wasn’t supposed to be thinking of Atticus. How was it that he could creep into her thoughts so easily, unbidden, even when she was out having fun with someone else?

"Your Highness?" Eugene whispered, sensing Daphne’s wandering attention. "Are you getting tired? Do you want to leave?"

"No, no, I’m fine," Daphne said, determined to sit through and pay attention to the auction.

And it was a good thing she did, for the next item had her at the edge of her seat.