An unpredictable turn of events

Auctions go back to the time when the three kingdoms on the continent were still one empire. Bloody territorial disputes were at their highest back then, but so was commerce that thrived between the twenty states that were located in different geographies and owned a variety of goods worthy of exchange.

Different states took turns holding a monthly auction for all twenty of them, and the event's popularity soared as it was protected by a special unit of the emperor's army, but that success was short-lived, for the shadow of the civil war loomed over the empire for three decades, subsiding only after splitting it into three kingdoms.

The middle states that descended from Emorian ethnicity formed the kingdom of Emoria. Adela's grandfather — the first coronated King — established commerce routes with the kingdom's eastern and western neighbors, becoming a vital medium between the two and earning money through customs.

It was only recently that King Emanuel brought back the concept of auctions, using the old term to lure merchants of nearby kingdoms with the idea of owning lands free of tax in Emoria, something the aristocrats secretly frowned upon at first then slowly became in favour of since rebels seemed to repeatedly lose interest in territories that were auctioned.

Four long days have passed since Adela heard her father and Gustav talking about the auction that was due today at Meyhan, a tavern chosen for the dreadful event taking place in Harrow Way.

Contrary to all expectations, she found herself out undercover again.

Instead of commoners' clothes, Adela wore an apprentice knight's armor that Arkin borrowed on her behalf. Lady de Lanark was tall enough to execute the transformation without raising suspicions, but it was still extremely large on her.

She worried little about standing out as she walked surrounded by the platoon patrolling Harrow Way. Every knight around Adela knew who she was, for they were the sons of Kaiser's most loyal vassals hand-picked by Arkin for the task.

Adela sent a prayer asking the heavens to protect them from the unfathomable consequences of exposure.

The young men risked their titles by putting together their families' resources and registering in the auction under a fake alias, a merchant of the Western Kingdom who offered a fortune to become the sole buyer of the Archduke's lands.

If discovered, an act that at best was considered a forgery, and at worst, treason against the royal family of King Emanuel de Lanark.

Her mind played her father's words in her ears at the worst time possible. Do not drag others with you on your quests for justice if you do not wish to see them suffer the consequences of your actions.

The shudder that went under her skin had nothing to do with the decreasing temperature.

"We are here," said a nearby knight, stealing her back from the unpleasant reveries.

Meyhan was no place for a Lady, and Adela had only seen it through the window of the Archduke's carriage. She flinched when the closest knight tapped her casually on the shoulder the minute the doors opened from the inside.

He cleared his throat, "…You…Go inside and make sure that Sir Arkin does not have new orders for us,"

She nodded beneath the helmet that covered her face and hair then gingerly went through the crowd, she dared not lift her head and search their faces, for her father or Baron Gustav had to be one of these men for sure.

"You there! Why are you walking idly like that? Come here at once and receive your new orders!"

Arkin's harsh words extracted Adela from a pit of misery. They were loud enough to get the attention of the merchants and nobles who cleared the way between her and her knight.

Arkin radiated aggression as he stood opening a red curtain with his forearm, it appeared to be separating the main auction room from a more private setting inside, she took many stiff steps focusing on Arkin's face alone until she was one step away from him.

She paused to salute the Leader awkwardly before passing by him and standing in the surprisingly narrow place behind the curtain. He dropped his arm to his side letting the curtain slide then looked down at Adela.

"Our cover has been blown,"

She removed her helmet and shook her head so fast that she almost lost her balance, "What do you mean our cover was blown!" She loudly whispered.

His hazel eyes blazed with anger, "A traitorous rat...Somebody must have told on us,"

"Impossible! The knights would never…"

"Of course not! It can't be the knights,"

The weight of the armor suddenly became almost unbearable, pressing further down on her already heavy heart.

"...Nobody knew other than you and I… When we talked in that room in the infirmary…"

They stared at each other for a long moment, realization striking both of them hard at the same time.

"We were not alone!" He snapped.

She shook her head in denial. Why would the young man whose life she saved stab her in the back like that?

"Take a look outside and see what's happening!" He removed the curtain once more and pointed at one of the corners. She peeked from beneath his arm, making sure she stayed inconspicuous.

A small gasp escaped her when she was greeted with the sight of Egon von Conradie, standing near her father, holding a quill with his always gloved hand, and signing one parchment after the other.

"No… This is not happening..."

"It is! He bought all of the auctioned properties!"

Her legs wobbled, and if it was not for Arkin's hand around her waist, she would not have found the strength necessary to stand anymore.

"Adela,"

She looked up at a pale-looking Arkin.

"Who are they? Why did they come now?"

She blinked many times, unable to provide him with an answer.

"… I heard my parents talking…" He let the curtain slip off his arm once again, "Something about an old grudge. Now you know that I am not one to judge a man by what I hear of him, but by what I see with my own two eyes,"

Adela braced herself for what he was about to announce.

"I have reasons to believe that the von Conradies are involved with the rebels,"

The accusation was not a baseless one. Only not the one she anticipated.

Is that all he is?

Images of how insanely fast his skin recovered from the claws of her falcon came back to her. The one word she tried her best not to associate with him back then was all she could think about now.

Shapeshifter.

But the scars on his body were palpable proof of Egon's humanity, and it was known that rare mana stones healed their carriers. His sword was adorned with so many. Couldn't one have that effect on him?

Arkin clicked his tone.

"Even if he was a rebel, that man is still a better option than the vassals buying out all the lands and shaming the Archduke... All we need to do now is gather incriminating evidence and confiscate the lands once more,"

She swallowed back a no. Confiscated lands go back to the King's treasury, they would never go back to house de Lanark.

Arkin arrived at that conclusion without her help.

"Your uncle wins no matter what, doesn't he..."

She closed her eyes, the painful reality of his words was inarguable, and then there was a pain of another sort torturing her to no end.

How much more indebted are we going to be to that person?