Well, the downside was that now, more of them were looking for souvenirs to commorate Luca.
On the morning of the auction, several people gathered in a heated debate over why they couldn’t simply buy the goods for themselves.
The argunt spiraled out of control until Luca, who had been quietly listening with furrowed brows, finally spoke up.
"If we’re just going to buy our own products, then how can this family earn more money?!"
The statent rang like a thunderclap.
Silence.
Every head turned. Every mouth snapped shut.
The words echoed in their minds, breaking into smaller, selective phrases: "own products"... "family"... "earn more money."
The little moneygrubber’s earnestness stabbed straight through their argunts. One by one, people sat back down, coughing awkwardly, faces red.
"Well, if it’s for the good of the family..."
"Yes, yes, we’ll follow Young Lord Luca’s wishes."
Though their hearts bled at the thought of letting Luca’s creations slip away into other hands—when each one was as precious as artwork fit to be displayed on a refrigerator—they could not refuse. If Luca said it was for the family’s benefit, then it had to be right.
But one man could not let it go so easily.
Marshal Julian raised a hand. "Is that really safe?" His tone was sharp with worry. "Even I nearly had a heart attack when I saw what you plan to put up for auction later."
The hall stiffened.
He was worried, and rightly so. What if other factions got their hands on these things? Or worse, Federation sympathizers? Or thieves bold enough to snatch it?
Yes, he knew now that many of the goods were labeled "rejects." Yes, he had even been promised a biocha himself if he wanted one, a revelation that had shaken him to the core. But even so... would exposing such things really be safe?
His concerns had been so strong that when Luca made the offer for the new cha, he had responded with painful practicality despite the heartache.
"Once it’s more public, maybe. But since my cha has to be inspected by military headquarters, if I switched to another one right now, soone would certainly pry."
Reasonable. Logical. Painful.
And yet the licensed chanic across from him—still so young, still so pure—surprised them all.
"In reality, I’m not the only one capable of making polished chas," Luca said with quiet pride. "The chanics of our House, and even my good brother, are more than capable of building them too. That’s why I think it’s better to introduce these upgrades slowly, even if it’s just through the combination chas for now."
His golden eyes swept across them before he continued, soft and sincere. "The fight against corruption isn’t just with our Houses. The people of the Empire are also fighting in their own way. If they could benefit from knowing these things exist, maybe it would encourage them to try new thods. Then... won’t that be better for everyone in the long run?"
"?!"
Ah.
Empress Gisella and Emperor Xavian exchanged looks, their hearts leaping. If anyone was fit to rule, it was this boy—this boy who thought of others even when it posed a risk to himself.
And with words like that, who could argue?
At least, no one dared.
Until a tiny princess raised her hand.
"Brother," Nina said earnestly, "would it be possible to place bids? Because I want to ask Butler Henry to bid for ! What if the others bid too low?"
Her eyes were wide, her little lips pressed into a serious line as she calculated her pitiful savings in her head.
The room broke into chuckles. What a valid point, truly.
"Don’t worry, Nina," Emperor Xavian soothed her gently, "Butler Henry will be bidding with our funds."
The Emperor smiled, but across the table, Shadow Uno silently clasped his hands together in prayer for Butler Henry’s swift repose.
For how hard would it be to control oneself when faced with such direct provocation?
Thankfully, the agreent was already sealed as being for the benefit of the Empire. Otherwise, one more smug remark from those Veyra sympathizers, and Uno would have abandoned the auction hall in favor of a far more permanent solution.
__
The auction began with the kind of fanfare one might associate with a change in leadership or the start of a massive trial.
Trumpets blared. Lights flashed. And before the first item was even revealed, the energy was so thick that if soone sneezed, half the audience might have fainted.
News spread like wildfire. Even those barred from entering the venue sward Star Net, flooding it with speculations. Threads popped up faster than they could be counted: What items would appear? What kind of wealth was needed? Would this change the balance of power in the Empire?
Just the logistics of getting everyone into the auction house safely had aged Killian, maybe an additional twenty years. His hair might have been the sa color, but his eyes held the weary light of a man who had seen too much.
The Mylors weren’t any better. Marquis Mylor looked thinner despite eating as though the world was ending. In all the chaos, the only one who seed to co out ahead was not-so-little Owen. The boy had been allowed to skip school for several days in the na of safety, while his older siblings were wisely told to work from ho.
But it wasn’t all bad.
At least this ti, the people weren’t clamoring about the Empire collapsing or the capital being under attack. In fact, Killian found small relief in being able to bark at the cadets without hesitation, finally free from the burden of not knowing if they were seriously going to war without any notice.
Unfortunately, his brief peace was shattered when the Chief of Staff learned of the arrival of a real problem.
Screw the expected arrival of the patriarchs of House Orell and House Aramont—those vapid figures had always been predicted to cause trouble. They entered preening as though the world revolved around them. Everyone groaned internally but kept polite faces. That much was anticipated.
But what truly shocked the hall was the announcent that followed:
"Minister Kordell Nox and his wife, Marquise Evelyn Nox."
"!!!"
The room rippled with shock. Or maybe he was the one who rippled with shock.
Because that was how Killian Nox, normally fearless in most battles and negotiations, was discovered hiding in the bathroom, clutching his terminal like a lifeline and desperately trying to get a hold of his soon-to-be-dead younger brother.
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