Okay.
I believe I am prepared to continue.
The food helped.
Not with understanding.
Merely with survival.
After taking my seat beside the Caravan Master, the auction continued normally.
Or at least what passes for normal among people willing to spend fortunes on objects they have never touched.
Old Shard stood upon the stage.
Looking exactly like Old Shard.
The same patched clothing.
The same travel-worn appearance.
The same energy of a highly experienced vagrant.
Only now everyone was calling him Artifact Master Eldrin Shardvein.
I am still adjusting.
The first several artifacts sold successfully.
Extremely successfully.
More successfully than seemed reasonable.
Old Shard's sales technique remained completely incomprehensible.
For example, when presenting the Silent Step Boots, he openly informed the audience that only thieves and stalkers would require such an item.
Several people laughed.
Old Shard sighed.
Then the boots sold for nearly four times the target price.
I distinctly remembered seeing the number in Ryn's notes.
Seven hundred and fifty Gold Crowns.
The final bid exceeded three thousand.
This pattern repeated itself repeatedly.
Old Shard would explain why an artifact was ridiculous.
The audience would laugh.
The bidding would escalate.
And another artifact would disappear.
By the tenth item, I had accepted that I understood nothing about wealthy people.
Meanwhile the Caravan Master appeared entirely uninterested.
He spoke with me quietly in Quenya.
Asked about my travels.
Asked what I had been eating recently.
At one point he spent several minutes explaining that certain fried desert rats were surprisingly delicious.
This conversation occurred entirely in Quenya.
Inside one of the largest auctions on the continent.
While fortunes changed hands around us.
The Caravan Master even yawned occasionally.
He looked tired.
Almost bored.
More importantly—
he did not bid on anything.
Not once.
By that point I genuinely had no idea why we were there.
Then the eleventh artifact appeared.
The Golden Whisper Orb.
One of the items Ryn had shown me earlier.
One of the items Old Shard had repeatedly described as trash.
He apparently intended to continue defending that position.
The moment the orb appeared, Old Shard sighed dramatically.
Then announced:
"For the sake of my reputation as an appraiser, I must state clearly that this artifact is complete rubbish."
The audience laughed.
Old Shard looked offended.
Then a voice shouted from somewhere near the back.
"Old Shard! We've known you for years! You just don't want to sell it!"
The voice felt familiar.
Very familiar.
A moment later I recognized it.
Master Ironbeard.
One of the Caravan's core crew.
The audience laughed harder.
Old Shard immediately pointed into the crowd.
"I am not lying!"
Nobody believed him.
Then another voice appeared.
"Your favorite niece forced you to sell another treasured collection, didn't she?"
This time I recognized the speaker immediately.
Master Grim.
Another member of the core crew.
At this point the entire room was laughing.
Old Shard looked genuinely furious.
Not theatrical.
Not performative.
Actually furious.
Which somehow made everything funnier.
I felt slightly sorry for him.
Then something changed.
I glanced toward the Caravan Master.
Only moments earlier he had been discussing food.
Now he sat perfectly upright.
Focused.
Alert.
Interested.
The transformation was immediate.
The auctioneer opened bidding at five hundred Gold Crowns.
The Caravan Master looked at me.
A subtle gesture.
I remembered my instructions.
So I nodded.
Immediately, he raised his hand.
"Lady Artemisia Reine DeLuna of the Moon Kingdom bids five thousand Gold Crowns."
My soul briefly left my body.
Five thousand.
Five thousand.
That sounded like an unreasonable number.
Several people turned toward us.
Whispers spread immediately.
I remembered my assignment.
Then attempted to look calm.
I am uncertain whether I succeeded.
The bidding continued.
Five thousand five hundred.
Six thousand.
Ten thousand.
Fifteen thousand.
Twenty thousand.
Eventually only a few competitors remained.
The final bid reached twenty-two thousand Gold Crowns.
A noble-looking man secured the victory.
The Caravan Master looked toward me again.
I nodded.
He slowly shook his head.
Then released a long disappointed sigh.
The auction ended.
The orb was lost.
I did, however, think I noticed the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.
Perhaps.
I am not entirely certain.
Then came the final artifact.
The Eternal Mirror.
Old Shard stared at the audience for several moments.
Then raised one hand.
And swore upon his mother's memory.
"My mother is watching from heaven."
"This artifact is trash."
The audience erupted.
Laughter everywhere.
Someone applauded.
Old Shard looked as though he wished to physically fight everyone present.
The auctioneer opened bidding.
"Five hundred Gold Crowns."
The Caravan Master looked at me.
I nodded.
Immediately he stood.
"Fifty thousand Gold Crowns."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then chaos.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
People sat straighter.
Voices rose.
Several merchants began arguing.
The auction had transformed.
The game was finally visible.
The bidding climbed rapidly.
Sixty thousand.
Seventy thousand.
Eighty thousand.
Ninety thousand.
One hundred thousand.
Then something even stranger happened.
Ryn entered the bidding.
Representing House Roderick.
I blinked.
Confused.
Weren't we on the same side?
Before I could answer that question—
Spathian entered the bidding as well.
This was somehow more concerning.
Why was Spathian participating?
Where did Spathian even obtain that much money?
The situation became increasingly absurd.
Every time the Caravan Master glanced toward me—
I nodded.
Every time I nodded—
the price increased.
Eventually only two competitors remained.
The Caravan Master.
And a powerful ruler accompanied by enough attendants to populate a small town.
The final bid reached one hundred and fourteen thousand Gold Crowns.
The ruler held the lead.
The Caravan Master lowered his head.
Silent.
Still.
Then the auctioneer approached me directly.
The entire hall seemed to vanish.
Only his voice remained.
"Princess DeLuna of the Moon Kingdom."
"Would you like to increase the bid?"
My brain stopped functioning.
Princess.
Moon Kingdom.
Bid.
One hundred and fourteen thousand Gold Crowns.
The words collided.
Failed to cooperate.
Then the Caravan Master leaned closer.
In Quenya.
One word.
"Áva."
No.
Or more accurately—
don't.
I immediately shook my head.
The auctioneer nodded.
The hammer fell.
The ruler won.
The Eternal Mirror was gone.
The auction ended.
And somehow—
none of us had won anything.
Not the Caravan Master.
Not Ryn.
Not Spathian.
Nobody.
I still do not understand why they wanted that mirror so badly.
If Ryn sorted the artifacts herself, couldn't she have simply purchased it from Old Shard beforehand?
The question remains unanswered.
What I do remember clearly is Old Shard.
After the sale concluded, he stood silently for several moments.
Then left the stage.
No jokes.
No complaints.
No dramatic speeches.
Just quiet disappointment.
The expression felt strangely painful to watch.
Like someone losing something important.
I was still thinking about that when Ryn arrived later.
The Caravan Master accompanied her.
Both appeared satisfied.
Which seemed inappropriate considering recent events.
Then the Caravan Master handed me a pouch.
A heavy pouch.
Very heavy.
I opened it.
Gold.
Lots of gold.
"Five percent," the Caravan Master said.
Five percent of what?
I still do not know.
Ryn smiled.
Then added:
"I look forward to working with you again, Miss DeLuna."
I stared.
Then stared at the gold.
Then back at Ryn.
Then back at the gold.
The pouch contained six thousand eight hundred Gold Crowns.
At some point, confusion becomes less important than money.
So I accepted it.
Politely.
Naturally.
The Caravan Master appeared pleased.
Ryn appeared pleased.
Everyone seemed pleased.
I remain the only person who does not understand why.
Still.
Six thousand eight hundred Gold Crowns is six thousand eight hundred Gold Crowns.
Understanding can wait until tomorrow.
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