The VIP section had quietly split itself into factions.

  Closest to Rias sat a small circle of noble ladies, smiling politely, voices light and measured as they chatted with her as if this were an afternoon tea party rather than a grand auction. They laughed at the right moments, nodded at the right pauses, and treated Rias as a host worth engaging.

  A little farther away was another group. These women kept their distance, their gazes sharp and assessing. To them, Rias was still a commoner who had risen too quickly, and Helena was a noble with no sense of decorum. They spoke among themselves, never directly addressing either of them, their disapproval carried in posture and silence rather than words.

  Then there was Helena’s faction.

  Which consisted of Helena and Laysandra.

  She had claimed an entire sofa for herself, stretched out without the slightest hint of guilt, her head resting comfortably on Laysandra’s lap. Laysandra sat rigid, afraid to move even an inch, as if the wrong motion might shatter the seat beneath her. Helena, meanwhile, was perfectly content, lazily twisting a colorful cube in her hands, turning it this way and that with quiet focus.

  The largest group, however, belonged to the children.

  They ranged from toddlers barely able to sit still to preteens already wearing the stiff expressions of young nobility. Unlike their parents, they felt no need to maintain distance or judgment. They whispered, stared, shuffled closer, curiosity burning openly in their eyes.

  Finally, one of them spoke up.

  A young noble girl, perhaps ten years old, stepped forward, hands clenched at her sides. Her voice rang out, sharp and indignant.

  “Hey! Don’t you have any manners?” she shouted at Helena. “How can a noblewoman lie around like that in public? Aren’t you embarrassed?”

  Laysandra stiffened, her hands tightening instinctively in her lap. She looked at the girl with visible distress, already imagining several social disasters unfolding at once.

  Helena stopped turning the cube.

  Slowly, she lifted her gaze.

  Her eyes met the girl’s, flat, sharp, and distinctly annoyed.

  For a brief moment, the two stared at each other.

  Then Helena looked away and resumed twisting the cube, as if the interruption had not been worth acknowledging.

  The girl’s face flushed red.

  “Don’t just ignore me!” she shouted.

  Before things could escalate further, one of the noble ladies near Rias spoke up.

  “Stella,” she said, her tone firm but controlled. “Don’t disturb other guests.”

  She rose slightly from her seat. This was Marchioness Venenya, her expression caught somewhere between embarrassment and restraint. She clearly disapproved of Helena’s posture herself, but unlike her daughter, she knew better than to voice it openly.

  Stella spun toward her mother. “But Mom! She’s a bad influence on the other kids!”

  Marchioness Venenya followed her daughter’s gaze. Several children had indeed been staring at Helena, wide-eyed and fascinated.

  She sighed and rested a hand on Stella’s shoulder. “Even so,” she said quietly, “shouting like that is unbecoming of a noble lady. Your behavior is no better.”

  By then, Helena had listened long enough.

  With a soft grunt, she pushed herself upright, stretching slightly as if her back had gone stiff. Laysandra let out a silent sigh of relief as the weight lifted from her lap.

  Helena stepped forward and looked down at the girl.

  “Hey,” she said casually. “Little girl.”

  “I’m not a little girl!” Stella snapped immediately.

  “Stella,” her mother warned sharply.

  Stella flinched, realizing she had raised her voice again. She shot Helena a grumpy look, lips pressed into a thin line.

  Helena tilted her head, studying her. Then she smiled.

  “What a nice glare,” she said lightly. “You’ve got spirit.”

  She leaned forward a little. “I’m Helena. And what’s the name of this young lady?”

  Stella hesitated. She glanced at her mother.

  Marchioness Venenya smiled encouragingly.

  Stella straightened, swallowed her irritation, and bowed her head just slightly, proper and practiced.

  “I am Stella Venenya, of House Venenya,” she said. “Lady Helena.”

  “Just Helen is fine,” Helena replied easily. “Let’s be friends. And don’t worry, I won’t lie down anymore.”

  Stella eyed her suspiciously, clearly unconvinced.

  Helena gestured lightly. “And this is Laysandra. My friend.”

  Stella glanced at the masked woman beside Helena and gave a small, polite greeting in return.

  Marchioness Venenya rested her hand gently atop Stella’s head. Stella blushed faintly at the gesture.

  “Please be kind to my daughter,” the marchioness said to Helena. “As her mother, Marchioness of House Venenya, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Helen.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “The pleasure’s mine,” Helena replied.

  As they exchanged greetings, the children gathered behind Stella continued staring unabashedly at Helena and Laysandra.

  Helena noticed and frowned slightly. “Why are they all still looking at us like that?”

  Marchioness Venenya chuckled softly. “It’s probably the masks.”

  Helena and Laysandra both reached up, touching their masks.

  “Oh,” Helena said. “Because of the masks.”

  “Yes,” the marchioness said. “Children love things like that.”

  Helena nodded slowly. It reminded her of Hana when she was little, always wanting to wear masks, pretending to be heroes, monsters, anything but herself.

  Understanding softened her expression.

  She turned to the children and smiled brightly. “Hey. You all come here.”

  The children looked at one another, uncertain.

  “Come on,” Helena said again, her smile widening. “I’ve got gifts for everyone.”

  She added cheerfully, “You too, Stella.”

  Stella narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  And then Helena giggled.

  It was not a reassuring giggle.

  The children leaned in anyway.

  ---

  The auction was about to begin.

  The auctioneer stepped onto the stage, finishing his final preparations with practiced efficiency. He was difficult to place by age. Not young, not old. He had the unmistakable look of a man who smiled easily and charged dearly for it.

  In his hand was a small magic amplification tool. When he raised it, his voice rolled through the entire auction hall, clear and resonant, pulling every stray conversation to a halt.

  He smiled broadly and spoke in an unsettlingly cheerful tone.

  “Honored nobles, esteemed patrons, and those brave enough to test the weight of their coin, welcome.”

  A ripple of attention settled over the hall.

  “Tonight’s auction is reserved for those who believe their wealth speaks louder than their pride.”

  “Every item presented has been verified, sealed, and priced well beyond comfort.”

  A few soft chuckles sounded from the crowd.

  “If that makes you uneasy,” the auctioneer added lightly, “please feel free to enjoy the refreshments instead.”

  He lifted the magic tool slightly.

  “Raise your bids boldly. Hesitation is understandable.”

  A pause. A grin.

  “Now then, let us discover who truly came prepared.”

  That was enough.

  All across the hall, bidding paddles were readied.

  Helena glanced down at her own.

  Simple. Clean. Unassuming.

  She was no longer sitting alone with just Laysandra beside her.

  Somehow, without planning it, she had acquired a faction.

  Children surrounded her on all sides, small bodies packed into the seats with restless excitement. On her right sat Laysandra, stiff but resigned to her fate. On her left sat Stella, also masked now, trying very hard to look dignified and failing spectacularly.

  The Masked Faction had been born.

  Earlier, when Helena had called the children over, she had not simply teased them. She had made masks for them on the spot. Light, feathery things crafted with care, soft plastic composites shaped by her ability. No sharp edges. No heavy materials. Nothing that could hurt them by accident.

  The smaller children had accepted them immediately, delighted.

  The older ones had hesitated.

  Helena had not allowed refusal.

  Stella least of all.

  Now every child wore a mask, colors and shapes varying wildly, turning their section into a chaotic little masquerade.

  From the outside, it looked ridiculous.

  From the inside, it felt oddly unified.

  Helena leaned back, completely at ease.

  She was, somehow, the big sister of the group.

  Which was absurd, considering she was over a century old while looking firmly in her prime.

  Stella leaned closer, hissing in embarrassment. “Sheesh! This is mortifying. Everyone is staring at us!”

  Helena laughed softly. “Of course they are.”

  She tilted her head, examining Stella’s mask. “But I think you look extra cute like this.”

  Stella froze.

  Something warm slipped into Helena’s tone. Familiar. Comforting. The same quiet reassurance she felt when her mother brushed her hair before bed.

  She did not know what to do with that feeling.

  So she looked away. Then glanced back at Helena again.

  Her eyes met Laysandra’s.

  Laysandra said nothing, but the look she gave Stella was clear.

  Just endure it.

  Helena was busy shepherding her little masked army when she felt it.

  A gaze.

  Not hostile. Not threatening.

  Greedy, perhaps. Curious.

  She followed it back toward the stage.

  The auctioneer was looking directly at her.

  His smile widened when their eyes met.

  Helena did not return it.

  She understood immediately why he was watching her so closely.

  It was not because of the masks.

  It was because, before entering the main auction hall, Helena had had a very brief, very memorable conversation with the auction clerks.

  And it seemed word had already traveled.

  ----

  An hour earlier.

  Helena walked alongside Rias and Laysandra through one of the quieter inner corridors of the auction complex, away from the noise and gathering guests. The atmosphere here was calmer, more procedural, the kind of place meant for paperwork rather than spectacle.

  Rias slowed her steps slightly and glanced toward Helena, concern flickering across her face.

  “Do you really want to do this?” she asked.

  Helena looked at her. “Do what?”

  “Pre-register your funds,” Rias replied. “You don’t have to. You know that, right?”

  Helena did know. Rias had already explained it to her.

  The auction house offered something called Guild Escrow Registration. It was a system designed primarily for unreliable bidders or people entering the auction suddenly without established trust. Those who used it were required to register money or assets in advance so the guild could be certain they could pay for whatever they bid on.

  Most nobles never bothered with it.

  Helena least of all.

  “She’s a Winterwell,” Rias continued, lowering her voice. “The guild would trust you even if you only stated your name. You don’t need escrow.”

  That was the part Rias couldn’t understand.

  Helena had avoided using her family name at every opportunity. The only time she had acknowledged it was during noble confirmation, and even then only because it was required to access noble-restricted items.

  Rias frowned. “Why are you so set on this?”

  Laysandra hesitated before speaking up. “Is… is there any problem if Helena registers her money in escrow?”

  Rias shook her head. “No. Not exactly.”

  She sighed. “But this system exists for people the guild doesn’t trust. People who might bid recklessly and fail to pay later. Some even register land deeds or important family treasures.”

  Helena listened calmly.

  “I don’t see it that way,” she said. “Registering my money won’t make me look down on anyone. Or be looked down upon.”

  Rias opened her mouth. “But—”

  Helena cut her off gently, but firmly.

  “I’ve already decided,” she said. “So show me where I do it. What was it called again?”

  “Guild Escrow Registration,” Laysandra supplied.

  “Yes. That,” Helena said, nodding. “Take me there.”

  Rias let out a long sigh.

  She knew that tone. Once Helena decided something, there was no point arguing further.

  “…Alright,” Rias said. “Come with me.”

  They turned down another corridor. It took only a few minutes before they reached a plain-looking door guarded by a guild enforcer.

  The man straightened immediately upon seeing Rias and bowed.

  “Are they still accepting escrow registrations?” Rias asked.

  “Yes, my lady,” the guard replied. “It’s still available.”

  Rias nodded and gestured to Helena and Laysandra. “Let’s go in.”

  She opened the door.

  Inside was a simple office. Several guild clerks were seated at their desks, their posture relaxed in the way of people who had just finished a long shift.

  The moment they saw Rias, that relaxation vanished.

  One of them muttered under his breath, “Oh shit…”

  Rias shot him a glare.

  He immediately looked down, mortified.

  Rias exchanged a few words with the clerk who seemed to be in charge, then turned to Helena.

  “We’ll wait outside.”

  Helena blinked. “Huh? You don’t want to see how much I’m registering?”

  Rias shook her head. “It’s against guild rules. The amount is confidential. Only you and the escrow clerks are allowed to know.”

  She reached out, grabbed Laysandra by the wrist, and started pulling her toward the door.

  “Come on,” Rias said. “We’ll wait.”

  Before Laysandra could protest, she was dragged outside.

  The door closed.

  Helena was left alone with the clerks.

  They stared at her.

  This was the first time they had met a referenced guest of Lady Rias. Given Rias’s status, expectations were already high. None of them understood why such a person would be here, of all places.

  Helena broke the silence.

  “So,” she said casually, “hello, gentlemen. I’d like to register my money.”

  The clerks snapped into work mode instantly.

  One man, clearly the head clerk, offered a polite smile despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

  “Of course, my lady. How much would you like to register?”

  Helena answered without hesitation.

  “One million gold coins.”

  The clerk blinked.

  “…Pardon?”

  “How much would you like to register, my lady?” he repeated, still smiling.

  Helena frowned slightly.

  “One million gold coins.”

  Silence.

  Then—

  “One… one million?!” someone blurted out.

  The room erupted.

  “She must be joking!” “That’s impossible!” “Did we hear that right?”

  Several clerks stared at Helena, waiting for her to laugh.

  She didn’t.

  Her gaze made it painfully clear that they were wasting her time.

  Helena’s voice dropped, calm but sharp.

  “Will you register my funds or not?”

  The head clerk swallowed hard. His hands trembled slightly.

  One million gold coins.

  That amount could buy the entire auction multiple times over, including the building they were standing in.

  He wanted to ask if she truly had it.

  He didn’t dare.

  Helena sighed.

  She reached toward her storage rings.

  The air shimmered.

  A moment later, four heavy crates slammed onto the desk.

  Gold coins. Platinum gold coins.

  Then two solid stacks of pure gold bars appeared beside them.

  The room went dead silent.

  Sweat broke out across every face.

  Someone gulped audibly.

  The head clerk stared, eyes wide. Years of experience screamed at him that it was all real. Every coin. Every bar.

  He looked up at Helena through her mask.

  She looked utterly unconcerned, as if she had just set down spare change.

  No hesitation. No pride.

  Like pulling candy from a pocket.

  The head clerk snapped back into motion.

  “What are you standing around for?!” he barked at his subordinates. “Start measuring! Verify values! Now!”

  The clerks scrambled.

  Scales were dragged out. Ledgers opened. Magic verification tools activated.

  The auction was about to begin. There was no time to be stunned.

  As they worked, the head clerk’s thoughts raced.

  The auctioneer had to be informed. Immediately.

  If this woman was bidding tonight, no misunderstanding could be allowed. If the auctioneer even suspected she couldn’t pay, it could ruin everything.

  And yet—

  As the head clerk worked, a grin slowly crept onto his face.

  Who the hell did Lady Rias bring this time?

  A walking gold mine?

  No.

  Something far more dangerous than that.

  One thing was certain.

  This would be the greatest auction the Merchant Guild had ever held.

  And it hadn’t even started yet.