Auction

Zariel narrowed his eyes, walking out of the carriage, his once silvery hair and eyes replaced by the black of night. He wore a fur-lined cloak cut from a Direwolf and a black mask any could purchase from any vendor. He offered a chivalrous hand that Aurelia gladly accepted to step down, ordain in similar attire. Her silver-gold hair and eyes were now a mixture of black and amethyst. 

Nothing about them appeared out of the ordinary, appearing more like husband and wife, dressed in finery, as for a night around town rather than buyers at Salem's most prestigious auction held every decade. Men from all around the Three Kingdoms were said to travel oceans and great plains to attend. 

It was a grand sight to see, even from outside, filled with lights; Aurelia pivoted to take in the grandness of it all, nearly losing herself in the process. She might have if she hadn't been in Zariels arms.