CHAPTER 5: The Auction Trap

The Winter Auction had always been one of Damien’s favorite battlegrounds.

To him, it was more than an evening of expensive acquisitions it was a performance. A chance to parade his wealth before the city’s elite, to demonstrate that anything worth owning would eventually end up in his possession.

Tonight, I intended to make him choke on that pride.

The grand hall of the Royal Auction House glittered under hundreds of candles, their light refracting off gold leaf walls and the polished mahogany stage. Tall windows looked out over the frost-coated city, and the air hummed with conversation, the clink of glasses, and the shuffle of silk skirts.

I arrived in a gown of black satin, cut close to my body and edged with midnight lace. It was a deliberate insult black was a color of mourning, not celebration. Whispers followed me like a shadow.

“Is she in mourning already?”

“Her wedding is in two months”

“Maybe she’s making a statement.”

Let them wonder. The less they could predict me, the more they’d watch.

Damien, dressed in a perfectly tailored navy coat, stood near the front with Aria on his arm. They were a study in contrast he, cold and precise; she, delicate and glowing in pale blue chiffon. They looked every bit the charming couple the city adored.

His gaze found me across the crowd. He didn’t smile.

“Lady Serina,” the auctioneer greeted, bowing slightly as I approached my reserved seat near the front. “Will you be bidding this evening?”

“Perhaps,” I said. “If something worth my attention appears.”

Cassian slid into the seat beside mine without asking. His presence radiated lazy confidence, but his eyes held a spark of anticipation.

“You look ready for war,” he murmured.

“I am.”

The bidding began with small treasures a collection of rare books, a set of ivory combs before the attendants brought out the piece I’d been waiting for: a ruby-encrusted sword, said to have belonged to one of the founding generals of the kingdom.

In my first life, Damien had coveted this sword for years and had finally claimed it at this very auction, using it to curry favor with a noble house whose loyalty later destroyed Cassian.

Not this time.

Damien raised his hand at the first bid, voice calm. “One thousand crowns.”

“Two thousand,” I said immediately.

His gaze flicked to me, surprise hidden behind a practiced mask. “Three.”

Cassian leaned back, amused. “Five.”

Murmurs rippled through the hall.

Damien’s jaw tightened. “Six.”

“Eight,” I countered.

“Ten,” Cassian drawled, glancing sideways at me as if we were playing a game no one else understood.

The price climbed, and with each rise, Damien’s posture stiffened. At last, at more than triple the sword’s estimated value, he snapped his bid “Twenty-five thousand.”

The hall went still.

I let the silence stretch, then smiled faintly and folded my hands. “I withdraw.”

The auctioneer turned to Cassian.

“Sold,” Cassian said lazily, “to Lord Veyra.” He leaned forward as the attendants carried the sword away. “And deliver it to Lady Serina.”

Gasps swept the room. Damien’s expression didn’t change, but the muscle in his jaw jumped.

When the break came, he crossed the floor to me with the slow, deliberate stride of a man trying to keep from raising his voice in public.

“That was reckless,” he said.

“That was entertaining,” I corrected.

“Cassian bought that sword for you.”

“Yes. Generosity is such a rare quality these days.”

His hand closed around my wrist, the pressure controlled but unyielding. “Do not embarrass me again.”

I met his gaze without flinching. “Then do not give me reason to.”

He released me, but the weight of his stare lingered as I walked back to my seat.

Cassian was waiting, amusement dancing in his eyes. “He’s furious.”

“Good.”

He tilted his head. “You enjoy this too much.”

“I’m just getting started.”

The auction continued, but I barely registered the next few lots. The night’s real victory had already been claimed. Not the sword I didn’t care about the sword but the fact that Damien had been maneuvered into overspending in public, his pride forced to swallow Cassian’s generosity toward me.

The story would spread before dawn. And once it did, the first cracks in his perfect image would begin to widen.

When the final gavel fell and the crowd began to disperse, Cassian offered me his arm. “Allow me to escort you to your carriage, Lady Serina.”

I accepted. We moved through the murmuring nobles, their eyes tracking us with a mixture of curiosity and speculation.

At the door, Cassian leaned closer. “Next time, I’ll let you make the killing blow.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it will be far more satisfying to watch.”

And then he was gone into the night, leaving me to climb into my carriage under the weight of Damien’s burning gaze.