A contention between two wealthy individuals ensued, and Silvie favored the mature-looking woman, who was the answer to her deep-rooted forlornness.
But a sinister turmoil cloaked the hall, the suffocation of who would end up being her master/mistress left the girl in disquiet.
"That woman... a mystery I might dare to trust..." Still, she seethes at the unpredictability of her own life, tossed about by the whims of strangers.
"Two thousand five hundred crowns," Karlen Magnus said with a smirk, placing a fortune on the line.
Silvie's face contorted with annoyance, and she looked at the lady in velvet, her irises filled with languid pleading, begging for her to outbid the man.
The lady saw her silent plea, though it was odd how well prepared she seemed for the occasion. She smiled and then declared:
"Three thousand crowns~"
Silvie felt relieved, but she knew it wasn't over. Her ears braced themselves for the foul mouth that would come from Karlen Magnus.
"Three thousand five hundred crowns!" Magnus looked at Silvie with a covetous gaze.
To him, she was just one of many flowers to be plucked. But the man didn't know Silvie was imagining using a champagne bottle to bash his head in.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we've got ourselves a rivalry! May the lady in a velvet dress match the fortune of Lord Magnus?!"
Out of all the aristocrats in the venue, only the two of them would dare to lavish in this trade; the other nobles find themselves entertained by their opposition. All the while, they anticipate the decision of the lady in a velvet dress.
Will she match the decadence of Karlen Magnus? Or would she forfeit?
"Do I hear more? Will she place a bid?!" But for a moment, not a single decision was made.
"Going once!" the auctioneer called, starting the countdown.
Silvie felt a wretched feeling; she wouldn't blame the lady in the velvet dress for forfeiting this trade, for it was becoming far too expensive.
"Going twice!"
Until... Silvie couldn't hold back her tears. The auctioneer paused as the entire room took in her reddening eyes. Out of desperation, she covered her face with pale, trembling hands.
"She's adorable!"
"What a little darling!"
"How innocent!"
Silvie's heart sank; her dread had been reduced to a simple subject of allure, and their dehumanizing remarks left a bitter taste in her mouth.
A single tear slipped down her cheek, quickly masked as she cast a sidelong glance, unwilling to let it be seen.
The entire hall was left in awe at her predicament; to some, it only fueled their desire to possess her.
To them, sorrow was a charm. The offers went higher and higher, each bid eclipsing the last.
"Three thousand six hundred!"
"Three thousand seven hundred!"
"Three thousand eight hundred!"
"Three thousand nine hundred!"
And the loudest, the one with the bruised ego, stood abruptly from his seat, scaring his slaves, and he shouted with a desperate voice.
"FOUR THOUSAND CROWNS!"
The auctioneer couldn't believe what he was witnessing. He wore the brightest, biggest smile on his face, and even the entire hall was amazed. Karlen's adamancy was something to behold.
Without anyone offering a higher bid, the auctioneer raised his gavel, counting down toward the inevitable.
"Going once!" The gavel tapped.
Silvie's sorrow blurred the countdown; she didn't wish to hear it. Perhaps opening her eyes had been a mistake.
"Maybe in another life... I was free..." Silvie closed her eyes and waited, though the melodic voice she longed for might never return.
"Sold! to Karlen Magnus!"
But reality was full of twists and turns. As soon as the auctioneer declared her finality, a laugh echoed from above, where the Lady in Velvet stood.
She was a blinding presence; her laughter rang out boldly like a witch with her evil scheme, yet she never lost an ounce of elegance.
"Little girl! Do not be afraid!" She spoke aloud, her voice was a spark of hope.
Then she declared: "Five thousand crowns!"
The auctioneer's jaw... dropped. A faint smile tugged at Silvie's lips. She refused to succumb to resignation. With a sharp swipe at her tears, she leveled Karlen Magnus a look of pure revulsion.
"I DESPISE YOU!" she screamed while ominously pointing a finger at him.
Karlen Magnus was infuriated as he slammed his desk, shattering it. A glass of red wine toppled, intimidating the audience and the nearby slaves, but the Crimson vial was still held firmly, preventing it from breaking.
"Who do you think you are?!" he yelled, his angry gaze locking onto the maiden of velvet.
"It's beneath me to engage with anyone inferior~" The lady wasn't the slightest bit bothered, her finger resting condescendingly on her jaw.
Everyone was in shock; this was perhaps a first in the history of a slave auction. With that amount of money, one could live comfortably for decades.
"I won't forget that face. I'll remember you," Karlen Magnus threatened, clutching his head in frustration. It didn't help that he was being mocked by another noble with blonde hair, spewing venomous words.
"You lost to that? Personally, I wouldn't let such a thing happen to me. That woman doesn't even seem like a noble. You lost in a battle of finances, that's embarrassing, Karlen," remarked the blonde man beside him. Karlen Magnus only cast his gaze downward, not daring to reply.
"Such a child," the Lady of Velvet murmured with a soft, pitying smile. "I doubt anyone could forget my face~"
Yet one man, the auctioneer, felt the most joyous. He even looked at Silvie with an obnoxious smile, conveying his gratitude for her existence, because of her, he had set a record.
"GOING ONCE!!" The auctioneer resumed the final countdown, even more enthusiastic than before.
"GOING TWICE!!" He bellowed, straining his lungs in hope of a higher bid.
Silvie's heart had never raced so fast, praying that Karlen Magnus would remain completely silent. But the man felt inferior, and the mocking of his peers only fueled the fire.
What he didn't realize was that there were those who always paid attention to his every action.
Silvie closed her eyes, waiting for her fate. Then she heard it.
"SOLD TO THE LADY IN VELVET CLOTHING!"
Karlen Magnus would remember this day, the day a rare slave slipped through his fingers. He blamed it all on the Lady of Velvet, with her immense self-confidence and ego.
But the auctioneer would remember this day as the day he made profit, when several men, seemingly in service to the maiden of velvet, approached with payment carried in multiple chests filled with gold Crowns.
Heavy was an understatement; even a single chest of 2,500 Crowns weighed nearly twenty kilograms! The auctioneer accepted it with greedy hands, his accountant at his side, and together they reveled in counting and confirming the pay.
But Silvie couldn't believe it. She felt tears of joy falling down her cheeks as relief washed over her like a tide.
"Who is this Lady, this extravagant benefactor? What could she possibly be, to afford such novelty?!" boomed the auctioneer, his smile shining all the brighter against Karlen Magnus's bitterness over his loss.
All attention turned to the lady, anticipating her answer.
"Who are you?" Silvie mused.
The Lady of Velvet stepped forward as one of the event organizers handed her a microphone.
"I am but a humble painter... Evelyn..."
Her voice resonated with captivating maturity, carrying the grace of an angel veiled in mystery.
The audience watched intently, as if they had recognize her, though they could not place exactly who she was, it didn't help that she didn't reveal her family name; some people were even confused, since in Umbridge it was customary to always state your given name, followed by the royal family you serve, and then your own family name that's superior in status.
In the Nocturne era of the fourth epoch, a true artist would surely have been well-known and celebrated, yet this lady carried the air of a mere hobbyist.
Silvie stood still, hearing a soft piano melody resonate in her mind. Lady Evelyn held a look of elegance that sent a warmth spreading through her delicate heart, but why did it feel so familiar, as if she had felt it before?
The servant held the strangest feeling, a lost maternal love that she had finally found. Whatever her past life had been, it now seemed folly in the fateful meeting with melancholy.
Chapter End.