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“Stella, please.”
Desperation clung to Raymond’s voice.
Caught by that tone, Stella stopped in her tracks, unable to move any further away.
Raymond embraced her from behind as if he had been waiting for that moment, his hands trembling violently.
Like a man who had made a firm resolve.
“You are the only person who allows me to remain ‘Raymond,’ rather than just the second son of the Larsen Ducal Family.”
“Raymond….”
“This isn’t simply an expensive gift, Stella.”
With a cautious touch, Raymond turned Stella around.
When she looked back, he couldn't even bring himself to lift his head.
The sight was so heartbreaking that she found herself unable to refuse him.
“They say the Rose of Light is a holy relic crafted with all the heart and soul of the people during the era of the Holy Kingdom.”
“…….”
“I am merely the second son, so I cannot give you the position of a Duchess. However, I can guarantee that my heart for you is greater than the devotion those ancient people had for the divine god of light.”
As he spoke, Raymond’s voice trembled miserably.
Just like a young man confessing his love for the first time.
“Stella. I will say this only once, for the first and last time.”
“Oh, Raymond….”
As if infected by Raymond’s trembling, Stella’s entire body began to shake.
The man’s knees, which had never once touched the ground, fell heavily and easily to the floor.
Something that was only possible in front of this one woman.
Carefully grasping Stella’s hand, Raymond revealed his burning heart without concealment.
“Please spend the rest of your life with me.”
Flip—
Yevgenia heard a phantom sound, like the turning of a page.
The contents of the original novel, which she thought she had forgotten, returned to her in vivid detail, down to every single punctuation mark.
Having recalled everything up to Raymond’s final words, Yevgenia’s face turned as pale as a dead person's.
“Wow, it’s truly beautiful! The Rose of Light… I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Did all the noble people already know about it?”
Anna, who had been chatting excitedly at the appearance of the sparkling jewel, suddenly noticed Yevgenia’s complexion and gasped in surprise.
“My lady? My lady, are you alright? Heavens, look at this cold sweat… Has the ominous dust appeared again? Or are you feeling unwell?”
“No, I’m fine. The Rose of Light was just so bright that I felt dizzy for a moment.”
It was a ridiculous excuse, but fortunately, Anna seemed to believe her completely.
“I see! Well, it is that beautiful, after all. Is it truly an artifact from the Holy Kingdom era? To think a jewel from hundreds or thousands of years ago could sparkle like that….”
“Unless they were insane, they wouldn't have put out a fake. They wouldn't risk their necks by committing fraud with an item of this caliber.”
Having quickly regained her composure, Yevgenia’s eyes scanned the plaques being raised throughout the room.
The ‘Rose of Light’ on the stage, which she glanced at, was still shining beautifully.
‘Yes, that item is real. And this situation, which overlaps so horribly with the original story, is also real….’
The auctioneer on stage continued the proceedings with a realistic sense of urgency, his head moving busily.
“Guest 203, 1 million gold! Guest 210, 3 million gold! Oh, Guest 11, 5 million gold!”
The amounts climbed steeply, passing through the equivalent of a commoner's annual living expenses in the blink of an eye.
Number 11—that was Raymond’s number.
From here on, it wasn't a matter of money, but a matter of reading the room.
‘Considering how the numbers are assigned by rank, seeing that he's in the 10s, they probably think he's at most a Duke or at least a Marquess.’
If one simply drove the price up too high here, they would likely just end up being disliked.
One could perhaps manage to blend in up to the rank of Count, but once you reached Duke or Marquess, there was no more blending in.
It was highly contradictory that ranks were revealed by numbers even while wearing masks, but that was exactly why it appealed to high-ranking nobles.
They were greedy people who wanted to enjoy the secrecy of masks while not missing out on the benefits gained from their rank.
There was a joke going around that the lowest winning bid at the Peton Auction House was 1 gold.
And that the winner was the current Imperial Crown Prince, or so they said.
The Duke, upon hearing this story for the first time, had confirmed it with a face devoid of any humor.
‘Forget about it, lest you get into trouble for gossiping outside,’ he had said.
“Now, now. Guest 11 has bid 5 million gold! Are there any more bids?”
As the auctioneer spoke, his eyes subtly drifted toward the box seat where Yevgenia was.
He had brought such a precious item; he couldn't just stand by and watch it sell for a mere 5 million, rather than 10 million or 100 million.
The capital of the Larsen Ducal Family shouldn't be that lacking, yet the betting was this stingy.
Wasn't this too much, even for a second son?
Perhaps the auctioneer’s desperation reached the sky—or rather, the high-altitude box seats.
‘…If all of this is reality, then I’ll just have to twist it again. Just as I always have.’
With a determined expression, Yevgenia firmly raised her plaque.
The number 7, along with the sign indicating double the previous bid.
“Guest 7! They’ve doubled it! 10 million, 10 million gold! Are there any more bids?”
The momentum finally began to pick up, and the auctioneer reacted with great fanfare.
However, Yevgenia’s eyes were fixed solely on the box seat where Raymond would be.
Would he accept this bet?
‘He must have already painted the whole picture of confessing his love to Stella with this. Let’s see how he handles it.’
She felt a sudden surge of gratitude toward Anna for bringing the family crest plaque.
Since she had come to buy a gift for Yulan, she hadn't intended to spend more than 10 million gold, so she had brought a modest amount.
Had she known such an unexpected situation would arise, she would have stopped by the bank and swept out everything in her private vault.
Then, a stark white number card entered Yevgenia’s sharp line of sight.
“Ah, Guest 11! 11 million! And Guest 7… doubling it again! 22 million gold!”
At the booming voice of the auctioneer, Anna’s eyes wavered with anxiety.
“M-my lady, is this really alright?”
“If it’s an artifact from the Holy Kingdom era, Father would praise me for making a cost-effective purchase even if I spent 100 million gold.”
She wasn't wrong.
The auctioneer hadn't been making a fuss for nothing.
Seeing Raymond’s number card trembling from afar, Yevgenia felt much more at ease.
She handed all the plaques she was holding over to Anna.
“Raise these every time the auctioneer mentions number 11.”
“What? C-can I really do that?”
“Yes. If Father says something, I’ll just make up for it with my allowance.”
She surveyed the opposite side with cold eyes.
How would Raymond react now?
“Guest 11, 23 million! Guest 7, 46 million!”
The moment the amount was announced, a loud noise erupted from afar.
It was certain that Raymond had either shouted or thrown something.
Probably, the amount of money he could push further was….
“Oh, Guest 11, 46.5 million! 46.5 million gold!”
“Ha. Anna, put that down and raise this one.”
Yevgenia knew better than anyone that Raymond wouldn't have 20 million, let alone 46.5 million, in his pocket.
Since the commotion at the banquet, rumors had spread that Raymond had been sweeping up items from the boutiques and jewelry stores Yevgenia frequented to give them to Stella.
The maintenance allowance given to the only Imperial Princess couldn't possibly be the same as that of the Duke's second son.
He was likely following the bids from 22 million not out of sincerity, but out of stubbornness.
Just barely, to the point where he could beg his parents to fill the gap even if Yevgenia gave up.
“Anna, raise it.”
“But my lady, this is….”
“Hurry.”
Anna, hesitating while holding the plaque Yevgenia had handed her, closed her eyes tight and thrust both arms up.
As if wishing this wasn't reality.
But unfortunately for Anna, and for Raymond.
“Guest 7! 100 million gold! 100 million gold!”
This was reality.
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