"Without further ado" Madame Lula began, her voice smooth and commanding, "I present to you, Elian, the last of the Ferres."
As the curtains parted, revealing Elian in all his ethereal beauty, there was an audible gasp from the crowd.
The lords and wealthy merchants who had gathered here had heard the rumors, but seeing Elian in person was another matter entirely.
He stood under the dim lighting, his pale skin glowing against the deep red silk of his robe, his eyes downcast as if he were already resigned to his fate.
Madam Lula allowed the silence to linger, watching as the patrons leaned forward, their eyes wide with awe and desire. She knew she had them. Every single one of them.
"Elian will belong to the highest bidder," she continued, her voice taking on a seductive tone, "and he will give you a night of pleasure unimaginable. A night with the last Ferre, something none of you have ever experienced before."
The excitement in the room was palpable, the air thick with anticipation and the scent of wealth. She could see the lords calculating in their heads, each one wondering just how much they were willing to spend for a taste of this rare prize.
"Now," Madam Lula said, her voice rising slightly as she raised her arm, "let the bidding begin."
The room erupted into a cacophony of voices, each lord eager to make his bid heard above the rest.
"Five thousand golds!" one voice shouted from the back of the room.
"Ten thousand!" another countered almost immediately, and the crowd gasped at the audacity of the bid.
Madam Lula's smile widened.
This was exactly what she had hoped for, a bidding war that would drive the price higher and higher. She could practically see the gold pouring into her coffers, her mind racing with thoughts of the fortune she would make from Elian.
"Fifteen thousand!" Lord Durell called out, his voice strong and confident. He stood tall, his eyes locked on Elian with an intensity that made the young man shiver.
But before Madam Lula could even acknowledge the bid, another voice rang out.
"Twenty thousand!" Lord Balor shouted, his tone dripping with arrogance. The crowd murmured in surprise, their attention shifting to the two rivals who were now staring each other down across the room.
Elian stood on the stage, feeling more like an object than a person as the lords of the empire fought over him like a rare piece of art.
His heart pounded in his chest, the reality of his situation sinking in deeper with every passing ssecond
He had known this moment would come, Madam Lula had made it clear from the beginning that he was a commodity, something to be sold to the highest bidder.
But nothing could have prepared him for the cold, calculated way these men were throwing their wealth around, each one eager to possess him for a night.
The bids continued to climb rapidly, the numbers becoming more and more outrageous as the patrons vied for the chance to claim the rarest prize in the kingdom.
"Twenty-five thousand!"
"Thirty thousand!"
"Forty thousand!"
The lords were relentless, their voices growing more frantic with each bid. Madam Lula was practically glowing with satisfaction, her eyes gleaming as she watched the numbers rise higher and higher. This was beyond her wildest dreams. Elian was proving to be more valuable than she could have ever imagined.
Elian, however, felt a deep sense of dread settling in his gut. He could see the hunger in their eyes, the way they looked at him as if he were nothing more than a means to satisfy their basest desires.
He had always known from the memories, that this body was different, special, even, but this… this was something else entirely. His worth was being reduced to the size of a man's purse, to the depth of his desires. It was a dehumanizing realization, and it made him feel sick to his core.
As the bidding reached fifty thousand golds. the room fell into a tense silence. All eyes were on Lord Durell and Lord Balor, who had been outbidding each other with increasing desperation.
The tension between the two men was palpable, each one determined not to let the other win.
But then, a new voice cut through the silence.
"Seventy-five thousand golds," the voice drawled, confident and calm.
All heads turned to the source of the bid, and the room fell into a stunned silence. Standing at the back of the room, leaning casually against a marble pillar, was Lord Cedric.
The man was known throughout the empire for his wealth and his ruthlessness. He was also known for his connection to the Ferre family, having once been engaged to Elian's stepsister before the fall of House Marcelo.
Elian's blood ran cold. He recognized Lord Cedric immediately. The man had always found the original Elian attractive, always watched him with a gaze that made his skin crawl. And now, that same man was about to claim him for a night.
Lord Cedric smiled lazily, his eyes locking onto Elian with a possessiveness that made the young man's stomach churn. "Eighty thousand," he added, just to drive the point home.
The room erupted into shocked murmurs. Madam Lula's smile faltered for just a moment as she took in the new bidder.
She hadn't expected Cedric to make a move, but now that he had, she knew the game was over. No one in the room could match his wealth, and even if they could, no one dared to cross him.
Lord Durell's face twisted in frustration, and he glanced at Madam Lula as if hoping she might intervene.
But Madam Lula simply inclined her head, acknowledging Lord Cedric's bid with a resigned smile. "Eighty thousand golds," she repeated, her voice carrying a note of finality. "Going once… going twice…"
"Sold!" she declared, and the room erupted into applause, though it was clear that many of the lords were seething with envy.
Lord Durell and Lord Balor exchanged dark looks, their frustration evident. They had both been so close, only to have victory snatched away at the last moment. But there was nothing they could do now. The prize had been won, and it belonged to Lord Cedric.
Elian's heart sank as Lord Cedric stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The man's smile was one of pure triumph, his gaze never leaving Elian as he approached the stage.
Elian wanted to run, to escape this nightmare, but Madam Lula's cold stare stopped him in his tracks. It was a look that promised pain if he dared to defy her, a reminder that his life was no longer his own.
Lord Cedric finally reached the stage, and he looked Elian up and down, his eyes lingering on the young man's delicate features.
"You're even more beautiful than I remember," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "I've waited a long time for this, Elian."