High beneath the star-strewn dome, two figures disguised as guards from the Eastern Kingdoms spoke in hushed tones meant only for each other.
"She’s definitely from the Loria Empire," the woman murmured, her gaze locked on the patch of empty air where Amber hovered.
"But the real question is... why would someone like her be here, acting as a bodyguard for a minor prince?"
It was a simple truth that anyone, anywhere in existence, could have brown hair and brown eyes—after all, those colors were hardly rare.
Even on Kalpa, it took more than a glance to determine whether someone was of the Loria bloodline.
But existence was far bigger than Kalpa.
On Loreua, ages ago, the first Emperor had declared that no one could bear the appearance of brown hair and brown eyes—whether by disguise or by birth.
This decree made those from Loria instantly recognizable whenever they appeared in their true forms.
The man beside her exhaled through his nose, jaw tight.
"She’s an exile, maybe. Or on a mission of her own." He paused, then added the darker possibility neither of them wanted to voice first.
"Or they’ve already found out what we’re planning... and she’s the one they sent to watch."
A short, humorless breath left the woman.
"If that’s true, waiting only makes it worse."
He gave a single nod.
"Then we remove her before the plan starts. The Auction is the cleanest place. Too many people, too many interests. If something happens there, no one will be able to pin the true cause."
They fell silent after that, both of them returning their attention to the floor below as though the conversation had never taken place.
---
The gathering itself unfolded across the full day in carefully measured stages.
Princes and princesses stepped into the open central space for formal spars that tested technique more than killing intent.
Between matches came structured debates on trade routes, successions, and the shifting balance between the kingdoms.
Later, older records were brought forward and read aloud—fragments of deep history that most of the younger generation had only ever heard in summarized form.
Through it all, Amber remained unseen, floating in the upper air with the other concealed guards, her expression unreadable as she watched the proceedings with only mild interest.
A full day later, the Consortium doors opened again, and the young royals began to file out into the night.
Amber had already returned to the prince’s side, still wrapped in Black.
They walked together along one of the quieter stone paths leading away from the main building when his voice broke the silence, directed toward the space beside him.
"Miss... are you here?"
Amber stepped out of concealment without ceremony, the veil of Black falling away in a single smooth breath. She regarded him with a flat, unimpressed look.
"What do you want?"
The prince gave a small, wry laugh and shook his head.
"Nothing important. I only wanted to make certain you were still nearby."
He glanced ahead toward the distant lights of the auction district.
"The Auction runs for four days. The offerings usually improve with each one."
To his words, Amber said nothing.
She already knew every relevant detail of the coming auction—including the so-called prize that would appear on the final day.
Without a word, she stepped back into concealment, the veil of Black settling around her once more.
As they walked, her thoughts drifted toward the two Eastern guards who had looked directly at her earlier.
’So... maybe I’m not the strongest around here.’ She mused as it was clear the moment they looked through her concealment that they were at least at her same rank... had some special artifact or was even stronger than her.
All of this pointed to one unsettling truth—her earlier assessment had been completely off, and she might actually be in far more danger than she’d ever imagined.
She also understood that truly hiding one’s rank was, in the end, impossible, no matter how careful or clever one tried to be.
The stronger a being grew, the harder it became for anyone weaker to truly see them—an effect that couldn’t be switched off no matter the circumstance.
Still, among equals, the trick retained its worth. Beings of the same rank usually perceived each other without any distortion, so altering that perception could be quite advantageous.
In this moment, a faint smile curved her lips.
HUMMMM!!!!!
She lifted one hand and, with a precise adjustment of will, rewrote the function of Black.
From this moment it would not only hide her presence—it would also fully conceal her rank from anyone of equal strength.
The shift took hold immediately as Amber let her hand fall and kept on walking, the smile still playing at her lips.
After a brief stroll, they arrived at the auction house.
The building rose in layered stone, its wide entrance already alive with motion.
Formal cloaks brushed against one another as nobles and their attendants moved through the open courtyard.
Quiet laughter mixed with the low, continuous murmur of negotiation, and the occasional sharper voice cut through when a price or someone of status disputed.
Attendants in crisp black uniforms threaded between the arriving groups with practiced ease, their expressions politely neutral even as they assessed rank and importance at a glance.
When the prince stepped forward, one of the senior attendants turned to him at once.
"Token, if you please, my lord."
The prince produced a slim status token of pale gold and offered it without comment.
The attendant received it with both hands, examined the markings under the light of a nearby eternal candle, and then inclined his head with clear, measured respect.
"Vip balcony, third tier," he said. "Your presence is noted and welcomed. This way, my lord. A private corridor has already been cleared for your time here."
The attendant turned and guided them away from the bustling crowd of guests, speaking only when needed to point them in the right direction.
"The third-tier balconies give you a clear view of the main stage," he explained casually.
"We’ve set out refreshments ahead of time, and once the bidding starts, there will be an attendant nearby if you need anything else."
They were guided along a quiet private corridor lined with soft white candlelight.
The noise of the main entrance faded behind them until only the soft sound of their own footsteps remained.
At the end of the corridor, a heavy door stood open.
Beyond it lay a spacious private room that looked down over the main auction floor through a wide, clear panel.
Cushioned seats in dark fabric had been arranged for comfort and clear sightlines.
A low table already held an array of light refreshments and sealed carafes.
The attendant stepped aside, offered a final respectful nod, and closed the door behind them.
Not long after, the auction properly began.
A clear, carrying voice rose from the stage below, announcing the first lots with formal precision.
The opening bids followed in restrained but steady waves, each offer spoken with the careful confidence of people who were used to being heard.
Amber emerged from the shadows without so much as a hint of warning, her gaze locking on the prince.
"Well, I suppose it’s fine if I bring along a friend, isn’t it?" she said, her tone carrying the weight of a choice already settled rather than a question seeking approval.
The prince’s lips parted, a hesitant sound escaping—half a stammer, half the start of a reply—yet no real words managed to take shape.
Amber had already drawn the badge—a small disc of purple and white marked with an infinity symbol.
She turned it once between her fingers, the motion almost idle, then closed her hand and crushed it.
The badge shattered with a sharp crack.
For a single heartbeat, the pieces hung in the air.
Then they pulled themselves back together, reforming whole and unmarked in her palm.
Amber’s brow lifted, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her face before it settled into quiet amusement.
In the same instant, a purple portal tore open in the center of the private room.
HUMMMMMMMM!!!!
It didn’t unfold with any grace; instead, its edges shimmered and wavered with a restless light that danced and bent, throwing long, distorted shadows across the walls and over the prince’s motionless face.
Beyond the threshold there was only darkness—no figure, no sound, no immediate answer.
The portal waited, open and silent, as though the one on the other side had felt the call and chosen not to step through yet.
Amber crossed her arms and stood her ground, gaze fixed on the empty dark.
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