The Merchant Guild Master sat comfortably in his private VIP section, surrounded by a small group of figures who all carried weight in the kingdom. Dukes, magnates, old-money nobles—people for whom auctions were not entertainment, but hunting grounds.
One of the men closest to him leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
“At least now we can properly enjoy the night,” he said.
The Guild Master chuckled softly.
“Haha. That sounds like a man who has finally escaped his household,” he replied, eyes glinting as he turned slightly. “I suspect married life is giving you trouble again, Lord Merlo.”
The man addressed was Duke Merlo.
Past middle age, his hair had begun to gray at the temples and faint lines marked his face—but his body was still solid, his posture steady. He was the current head of House Merlo, ruler of a vast dukedom, owner of some of the largest mines in the kingdom, and a man whose wealth came not only from land, but from instinct.
Merlo was not the wealthiest man in the kingdom.
But he was one of the most dangerous.
Because he could smell opportunity.
And at this very moment, his attention was elsewhere.
“…Is something wrong, Lord Merlo?” the Guild Master asked, noticing his silence. “You’ve been wandering inside your own head for a while now.”
In the background, the auctioneer’s voice rang out.
“Final call! Iron Wyvern Heart—last chance! You won’t see this again for several months!”
Merlo did not even glance at the stage.
He blinked, snapped out of his thoughts, and shook his head slightly.
“Nothing, Master Exis,” he said calmly. “It’s just…”
His eyes drifted briefly toward the crowd.
“I can’t seem to forget that young lady in the golden mask.”
Exis smiled knowingly.
“Oh?” he said lightly. “Does Lord Merlo plan to bring a new concubine into House Merlo?”
He leaned in with mock helpfulness.
“If you wish, I could ask Young Rias to look into her background.”
Merlo finally turned to him, his expression firm.
“I think you misunderstand me, Master Exis.”
He let out a quiet breath.
“These old bones can’t keep up with young blood anymore.”
Exis raised an eyebrow.
“What I mean,” Merlo continued, “is that there was something… particular about her.”
He frowned slightly, searching for the right words.
“I can’t point it out. And that unsettles me.”
For a fleeting moment, Merlo considered Exis’s suggestion.
Was it attraction?
The woman had a striking figure, even beneath her composed posture. Her presence carried an undeniable aura, one that suggested beauty hidden behind the mask.
But no.
He dismissed the thought almost immediately.
It isn’t desire, Merlo realized. It’s something else.
Something closer to instinct.
Profit.
Risk.
Opportunity.
That was what bothered him.
He turned back to Exis.
“Do you know anything about her?”
Exis thought for a moment, then shook his head.
“No. Rias hasn’t reported who she invited.”
He smirked faintly.
“With the mask on, it’s difficult to tell who she is. But if you wish, I can look into it. No one escapes our intelligence network for long.”
Merlo gave a short, thoughtful hum.
“No. Not yet.”
He shifted his gaze back toward the stage.
“That’s a matter for later. For now, we focus on what’s in front of us.”
Exis followed his line of sight.
Several items had already been sold, but none of them mattered to the people seated here. Trinkets. Ingredients. Curiosities.
The true prizes were still waiting.
The last two items.
Nothing else tonight would surpass them.
As if on cue, auction staff brought the next item onto the stage.
A murmur spread through the hall.
It was… a stuffed animal.
A black lion, its body plush and finely crafted, its mane a soft shade of gray. At first glance, it looked like nothing more than an expensive toy—something meant for children of absurdly wealthy households.
But then the light caught its eyes.
Two black gemstones were set where its eyes should be.
Perfectly cut.
Perfectly embedded.
Not decorative.
Functional.
The auctioneer laughed softly, enjoying the confusion.
“Take your time,” he said cheerfully. “This item has been waiting for months. It can wait a few more seconds.”
He gestured toward the lion.
“Or perhaps not.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
His smile widened.
“Presenting a one-of-a-kind piece, a deceptively cute stuffed animal embedded with rare black gems.”
He paused deliberately.
“You may not see this again.”
A low murmur rippled through the auction hall.
At first, it was confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then outrage.
“Are they insane?”
“Those are Black Hearts…”
“In a children’s toy?”
The black gemstones set into the stuffed lion’s eyes caught the light again, and the murmuring deepened.
Black Hearts.
That was what those diamonds were called.
One of the highest classes of gemstones known on the continent.
They were found almost exclusively in the North, buried deep beneath frozen land and brutal terrain. Even if one were to count every Black Heart ever unearthed, the number would not exceed a hundred across the entire continent.
They were that rare.
That valuable.
That revered.
And here they were.
Used as eyes.
In a stuffed toy.
To many nobles, it felt like sacrilege.
An insult to the gemstone itself.
“This is madness…”
“Those gems should be set into necklaces, not toys.”
“What kind of lunatic would allow this?”
But the Merchant Guild understood something very simple about human nature.
People liked to believe they were right.
They liked correcting others.
Fixing what they believed was being misused.
Taking control of something they deemed improper.
And the auctioneer could see it written plainly across the hall.
In narrowed eyes.
In clenched jaws.
In hands tightening around bidding paddles.
There were people here who wanted that toy—not because they cared about it, but because they wanted to rip the diamonds out.
To “use them properly.”
To restore order.
To feel justified.
And on the other side of the hall—
There were parents.
Nobles who adored their children.
Men and women for whom wealth meant nothing if it could not buy wonder.
To them, this was not an insult.
It was a miracle.
A one-of-a-kind gift that no other child in the world could ever receive.
A treasure that said: You are loved.
The Merchant Guild had baited both sides perfectly.
Correctors.
Collectors.
Parents.
No matter who won, the guild profited.
The bidding had already climbed past reason.
“Eighteen thousand gold!”
“Twenty thousand!”
“Twenty-two thousand gold coins!”
For a stuffed toy.
Those who did not understand the game watched in awe, enjoying the spectacle without realizing they were witnessing a masterfully engineered trap.
By price alone, the toy had already become the most expensive item sold so far tonight.
---
In the private VIP section, Guild Master Exis leaned back, thoroughly pleased.
He smiled and spoke casually, as if commenting on the weather.
“Humans are such simple creatures,” he said.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Merlo?”
Duke Merlo did not answer immediately.
His brow was furrowed.
His gaze remained fixed on the stage.
“…I always believed I understood the Merchant Guild,” he said slowly. “But sometimes, I think I still don’t know you well enough.”
He let out a short breath.
“Setting bait so that the fish swims happily toward its own death,” Merlo continued. “That is… impressive.”
Exis’s smile widened.
“And yet,” Merlo added, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “it seems I must become a fish myself tonight.”
Exis turned toward him, surprised.
“My lord?” he asked. “Surely you don’t intend to bid on that?”
Merlo chuckled softly.
“Oh, I do.”
He leaned back slightly.
“I’ve been feeling a gaze from across the hall ever since this item appeared,” he said. “I know exactly where it’s coming from.”
Exis blinked.
“…Your wife?”
“Precisely,” Merlo replied with a resigned smile. “She would absolutely want this as a gift.”
He lifted his bidding paddle.
“So yes,” he said calmly, “I will take the bait.”
Exis laughed.
“Well,” he said, raising his glass slightly, “who am I to stop you?”
“Bid to your heart’s content, Duke Merlo.”
And somewhere in the hall, the price climbed again.
On the other side of the auction hall, in Rias’s VIP section, emotions were boiling over.
Excitement.
Greed.
Thinly veiled outrage.
The controversy surrounding the stuffed toy had spread like fire. Most of the people seated there were noble ladies from wealthy houses, and while many wore expressions of refinement, their eyes betrayed them. Again and again, their gazes drifted back to the stage—to the black gemstones gleaming from the toy’s eyes.
Black Hearts.
Even knowing how rare and valuable those gems were made their throats dry.
Several women rose abruptly from their seats.
“I’ll be right back,” one said curtly, already moving.
Another followed.
Then another.
They hurried off toward their husbands’ sections, determination written plainly on their faces. Whatever persuasion, threats, or tears it took, they intended to secure that toy—only to tear it apart later and reclaim the gems for themselves.
Helena watched the scene with mild interest.
Her eyes returned to the stuffed lion on stage.
…She wanted it.
The thought was simple. Honest. Uncomplicated.
She didn’t care that she was far too old for toys. She didn’t care how absurd it would look. She wanted it because her heart wanted it, and Helena had never been the type to argue with herself.
She murmured softly, almost to herself, “Should I bid… or not?”
The auction was only halfway through.
Before she could think further, she felt something press lightly against her thigh.
Helena looked down.
A small hand rested there.
Stella.
The young noble girl’s eyes were locked on the stage, wide and unblinking, her fingers curled slightly as if resisting the urge to reach out.
Helena followed Stella’s gaze back to the toy, then looked at the girl again.
A smirk curved her lips.
“What’s wrong, Stella?” Helena asked lightly. “Do you want it?”
Stella startled, as if caught stealing.
She immediately looked away, cheeks faintly pink. “N-No,” she said too quickly. “I don’t want something so childish.”
Helena hummed, unconvinced.
She glanced toward Marchioness Venenya.
The marchioness hadn’t spoken, but her eyes were also fixed firmly on the stage.
That told Helena everything.
Around them, the masked children were scattering. One by one, they ran toward their parents, tugging at sleeves, whispering urgently, some already on the verge of tears.
Crying echoed faintly across the section.
Helena ignored it.
She had played with them earlier, yes—but that didn’t mean she was obligated to become some saint of benevolence, conjuring toys for everyone. She gave when she wanted. She took when she wanted.
That was all.
Stella, however, still held her attention.
Helena leaned slightly closer, her voice playful. “Hey. Be honest. Did you want it?”
Stella shook her head stubbornly. “I said I don’t.”
“Oh,” Helena said pleasantly. “Then that’s fine.”
She turned away without another word.
Stella blinked, confused.
Helena shifted her attention to her other side.
“Hey, Lyasi,” she said. “Do you like that toy?”
Laysandra didn’t answer immediately.
Her eyes were glued to the stage.
“…Yeah,” she admitted quietly. “I really like it.”
Helena smiled.
“Do you want me to buy it for you?”
“Eh?” Laysandra snapped out of it. “N-No! It’s too expensive—!”
The price had already reached the value of a mid-sized mansion in the Noble District.
Before Laysandra could finish, Helena casually raised her paddle.
“Thirty thousand gold coins.”
The auctioneer’s voice rang out immediately.
“What a lovely bid from the lady in the golden mask! Thirty thousand gold coins! Anyone more?”
Every head in the surrounding area turned toward Helena.
Some stared in disbelief.
Others in irritation.
A few in outright judgment.
Helena ignored them all.
The hall had gone quiet.
Once the price passed twenty thousand, most bidders had already dropped out. At thirty thousand, it had crossed from extravagant into foolish.
The hammer was already close to falling—
“Thirty-five thousand,” a voice called out calmly.
The auctioneer’s eyes lit up.
“Thirty-five thousand from our respected Duke Merlo!”
Rias swallowed hard.
She hadn’t expected this.
Her gaze snapped to Helena, panic flickering behind her composed expression.
Why are you bidding on this?
Don’t you need to save money for the property at the end?
Helena didn’t even look at her.
She raised her paddle again.
“Forty thousand.”
A ripple of shock passed through the hall.
The auctioneer’s excitement surged. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have an underdog tonight! Our golden-masked lady goes toe-to-toe with a duke!”
Helena finally looked across the hall.
The Guild Master’s VIP section wasn’t far.
She could see Duke Merlo clearly.
And he could see her.
Their eyes met.
Helena smirked.
Duke Merlo’s eye twitched.
Is she… challenging me?
A flicker of irritation crossed his face.
He had assumed her interest was stupidity. Recklessness. Nothing more.
But now—
He couldn’t back down.
Not with the entire hall watching.
Not with his name on the line.
The room fell completely silent.
Everyone understood what was happening.
Two people were burning absurd amounts of wealth—before the main items of the night even appeared.
Merlo cleared his throat and raised his paddle sharply.
“Fifty thousand,” he said firmly. “Final.”
A collective gasp swept through the hall.
“Fifty thousand… for a toy?”
“I could live comfortably for life on that amount!”
“Even with Black Hearts, this is insane…”
The auctioneer raised the hammer.
“Fifty thousand gold coins! Going once—”
In the Guild Master’s section, Exis let out a breathy laugh.
“I didn’t expect her to push this far,” he admitted, excitement dancing in his eyes. “I thought it would stop at twenty-five, maybe thirty.”
He glanced at Merlo, grinning. “Sorry, Lord Merlo. If you’d like, I can arrange a small… consideration later.”
Merlo shook his head calmly.
“No need,” he said. “I won’t treat this as a toy.”
His lips curved faintly.
“I’ll consider it a trophy. Proof that someone challenged me—and failed.”
He leaned back. “I’ll pay in full.”
Exis nodded, satisfied.
Yet the hammer didn’t fall.
The auctioneer hesitated.
Too long.
Exis frowned slightly.
What are you doing?
Even for guild standards, this was dragging it. Keeping Duke Merlo waiting would border on insult.
Exis looked more closely.
Then he saw it.
The auctioneer was smiling.
Not a merchant’s grin.
A knowing one.
And then
Another paddle rose.
The number was unmistakable.
The golden-masked lady.
A single voice cut through the silence.
“Sixty thousand.”
The hall erupted.
