It seemed to take forever for all the nobles to finally take their seats in both the boxes and what Count Kalisz called ‘the common seats’. Despite the announcement that the auction would be starting soon, the guests seemed more focused on posturing than actually sitting down. It was a painful reminder of her past. Winifred had always hated that aspect of her upbringing.

She’d lost count of the number of times that she’d been forced into some stupid frock made out of some even stupider slippery, floppy material and had to sit around while her father showed off about his latest property acquisition and her mother tried to hob-nob with the richest of the wives just to get that little bit higher on the social ladder. The whole show of it made her sick. She was beginning to think that even the copious amounts of free alcohol wasn’t worth having to hear some pompous idiot go on and on about his own superiority rather than planting his arse in a chair.

It was a relief when, a few minutes later, the curtains on stage finally swept aside to reveal twelve wooden plinths, each with a large number painted on the front in gold paint. It made the final few stragglers settle down and take their seats.

“Huh, twelve items? That’s nae much,” She muttered to herself.

“Ha! So blase!” The Count said, shaking his head as though she were a naughty child. “Still, I suppose this is your first time at such a prestigious auction,” He continued.

Strangely enough, now that they were alone together in the box, the Count had become decidedly less handsy with her. She’d been steeling herself for whatever pathetic moves she was certain he was going to make and wondering just how far she’d be able to let him get without bringing out the enchanted knuckledusters she’d stowed in her garter. But instead, the Count was keeping his distance as though she repelled him in some way. While she was grateful for no longer feeling his sweaty hands on her arm or around her waist, it was a bit of a worrying turn of events. If he didn’t want to have his way with her, what were her chances of being able to get into his chambers?

Zach said that he had it on good authority that the auction winners were handed their items at the end of the auction and those staying the night would be responsible for taking whatever they’d won back up to their chambers. Once the heaps of gold had changed hands, it would seem that Lord Casey’s orders were to absolve him for any potential issues. It was therefore pretty bloody important that she get up there so the plan could go ahead.

An excited chatter pulled her away from her thoughts about coming up with a quick Plan B. Winifred looked towards the stage and saw the auctioneer step onto the stage and begin preening in front of the crowd. Dressed in a burgundy tuxedo, the human male sported a thin mustache and a well-coiffed beard that complimented the wide grin on his face as he glanced over the crowd.

“My Lords, ladies, and gentleman!” He announced, spreading his arms wide as his voice boomed outwards. “It is my pleasure to welcome you all to the seventeenth Casey Auction!”

At this, the crowd below started to applaud fiercely. The Count scoffed at this display and shook his head, idly finishing off his glass of champagne.

“Thank you, thank you,” the auctioneer bowed bombastically to his audience. “As you can no doubt see, we have twelve, that’s right, twelve fine lots for you this evening! Each rarer and more marvelous than the last! Now without further ado, let us discover who our first lucky bidder of the evening shall be!”

He bounded over to the plinth that was labeled with a large number one. Out of the corner of her eye, Winifred saw the Count reach for one of the bottles of champagne. The ebony paddle with his silver bidding number on it lay untouched on the table. Clearly, the man thought the first lot wasn’t worth his time.

“And there we have it, folks!” The auctioneer continued, waving his hands and breaking the cloaking spell on the plinth. Where it had previously looked empty, the first plinth now had a large vial filled with a heady aquamarine liquid sitting atop it. The velvet curtains parted once more and a young woman in a tight black gown strutted towards the plinth. “And here she is! Let’s give a big hand to my beautiful assistant for the evening, she’s here for your viewing pleasure, it’s Lady Catalina!”

At this, Lady Catalina took her place beside the plinth and posed, hands outstretched, motioning to the vial with a theatrical look of awe on her face. The men in the crowd cheered uproariously.

Winifred studied the woman. There was something familiar about her but she couldn’t quite place what it was. She looked extraordinarily beautiful, her maroon red hair piled up on top of her head in a complicated style, her makeup perfect under the lights. The tight dress hugged her curvy figure. She was your typical auction house fluffer, designed to look good and little else. And Winifred had to admit, she excelled at the looking good part…

But still…where did Winifred know her from?

She tried to ignore the feeling and listened with interest as the man started his patter about how the liquid could be used to enchant a weapon or shield that would supply the user with extra Mana. None of the other bidders seemed particularly interested either.

“I would wager you haven’t seen something so impressive,” The Count nodded down at the stage as he poured himself a large glass of champagne. “But, as you can see, we don’t view it as such.”

“That much is obvious,” Winifred replied under her breath. It was really getting to be quite the uphill struggle to control her violent urges. Instead, she turned to the Count with a simpering smile, all wide-eyed innocence. “And why is that Count Kalisz?” She asked in a tone that matched her smile. At least pumping these idiots for information was easy. Just act as though the sun shines out of their arse and you were golden. “Is that particular item weak?”

“The vial is formidable enough,” The Count replied dismissively, taking a deep drink from his champagne flute. “But those of us who are, shall we say, more well off, know that the items are revealed by their worth. It would be quite gauche to appear too eager for the first couple of items,”

Winifred turned away from him and rolled her eyes. Of course, it was more stupid posturing. Although Count Kalisz did seem right. As the auctioneer finished his patter, a small bidding war broke out by some of the people sitting in the chairs below. None of the nobles in the opera boxes joined in. It was shocking to hear some of the prices that the auctioneer was calling out. She listened as bid after bid was called out before the shield was finally sold for just over one hundred thousand gold.

It was quite the food for thought. Winifred idly wondered how much her enchanted brass knuckles would be likely to fetch. She’d never had them appraised by anyone. It was too much of a risk that it would mark her as a flush target. That being said, if they’d fetch something like a hundred thousand gold or more, she wouldn’t have to keep doing heists with an idiotic arsehole and a loud mouth Ratling…