CH323 Grand Auction II
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The sixth day of the Auction Festival marked the day of the auction proper.
As part of the festival's grand celebrations, the event had been styled as a royal ball. Scions of powerful families and organisations stepped out in full splendour, each vying to outshine the other in elegance and grace.
Alex, Zora, and Eleanor were no exception.
Alex had personally designed the outfits for all three of them. Those designs were later brought to life by a fashion house—surprisingly one owned by Eleanor herself within the Enclave.
It turned out the woman was far more enterprising than Alex had initially realised. Her main Alchemy shop was merely the centrepiece of her business empire. She had diversified into several other ventures, particularly within the fashion and beauty industries.
It certainly made acquiring their attire much easier.
Alex had even prepared a design for Udara, and the dress had been completed as well. However, the woman was still MIA alongside Allen Holder. She checked in occasionally via Rune Phone, but she never mentioned where they were or what they were up to—and Alex didn't press for details either.
Alex himself was dressed sharply in a purple-black, form-fitting three-piece suit accented with red-gold linings and silver accessories—a pocket chain watch, polished cufflinks, and a fine lapel pin. Finally, resting proudly on his breast pocket was the crest of the Fury Family.
Zora, on the other hand, wore a modest yet regal gown of royal blue with white accents, which complemented her hair beautifully. Her look was completed with an elegant hairpin set—a subtle crown resting at the front and a phoenix pin at the back—granting her a mature, noble bearing that perfectly matched how Alex saw her.
She looked like ruling royalty descended among swans.
Eleanor's attire carried an entirely different charm. She wore a sleeveless white dress trimmed with soft golden accents—loose enough around the torso to soften the emphasis of her already generous curves. To balance the sleeveless design, she paired it with a white-cream jacket, both stylish and practical for warmth.
A Sun-Bloom flower hairpin tucked neatly over her ear completed the look.
Like Zora, Eleanor exuded regality, though hers was gentler—less like a queen, and more like a saintly princess.
Contrary to their original plan, the three of them arrived at the venue separately.
Eleanor had to meet and greet the representatives of the Imperial Clan, and thus arrived alongside the imperial delegation.
Meanwhile, Zora led the Enclave's delegation, which included Pinchcoin and several Grand Mages, standing in for Merlin, who—unsurprisingly—wasn't expected to attend.
The Auction House itself was a masterpiece of design—grand and imposing, roughly the size of a football stadium with four floors above ground and two below. Its architecture reflected a soft opulence reminiscent of noble castles, seamlessly blending with the core sector's aesthetic. From a distance, one might even think the city's heart had been built as an extension of this magnificent structure.
Luxurious carriages arrived one after another, each ferrying representatives of the continent's major powers—royalty, nobles, and magnates alike.
Alex, however, used a discreet route to enter, avoiding the main crowd. Not that anyone would have paid him much attention amid such illustrious company, but he preferred not to stand out regardless.
He found a quiet corner to settle in, content to observe the spectacle.
From his vantage point, he watched as Haggleworth—ever composed—moved through the gathering, greeting one guest after another with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.
To the untrained eye, it looked like a casual meet-and-greet, but Alex knew better. Thanks to the noble etiquette training he had been forced to endure since arriving in this world, he recognised the intricate dance being played out.
Every greeting, every bow, every exchanged smile followed a specific order—one designed to reflect status and favour.
Whomever Haggleworth greeted first in a group, whether intentionally or not, signified who the Golden Palace CEO respected the most. A single misstep could easily offend another noble or organisation whose pride couldn't bear being second.
It was a delicate, fickle affair that made Alex shake his head.
'This... is exactly why I hate nobility,' he mused.
A single wrong nod, and suddenly it's an insult worthy of blood feud.
It was also one of the reasons he appreciated being a Fury—a family that cared little for such trivial displays.
Still, Alex couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Haggleworth. Technically, as the chairperson of the company, this entire social performance should have fallen on his shoulders.
Even so, Haggleworth and his team were doing an excellent job managing the intricate dance of diplomacy. It certainly helped that the true heavyweights—the royals, major nobles and the most powerful organisations—had yet to arrive.
It was customary among the upper circles to arrive fashionably late. Doing so allowed the hosts to properly receive lesser guests first—ensuring the true elites would be greeted with undivided attention when they finally made their entrance.
Alex sat quietly, observing the entire performance from his seat without moving a muscle.
It was, in its own way, impressive that no one paid him any mind. After all, he wasn't exactly inconspicuous—devilishly handsome, the crest of the infamous Fury family stitched boldly into his breast pocket, and a suit that was nothing short of striking.
His attire was... different.
Where most men wore Victorian-styled tuxedos and layered coats, Alex's sharp, modern three-piece suit cut a silhouette entirely unlike the rest. Sleek lines, minimal frills and subtle display of elegance and power... It should have made him stand out immediately.
Fortunately, with hundreds—if not thousands—of guests crowding the hall, and his position tucked away in a quiet corner, he went largely unnoticed. Unless someone was deliberately searching for him, he was invisible.
Alas, that peace didn't last.
The DragonHold Enclave's delegation arrived—fashionably late, of course. Their timing was impeccable, appearing just before the royalty, grand duchies, and other high-tier organisations were due to enter.
At their head was Zora, and as always, she carried herself with commanding grace.
Considerate as ever, she chose to enter through the West Wing, opposite the East Wing where Haggleworth was welcoming guests. The decision spared him the trouble of rushing across the hall to greet her and ensured she didn't draw unnecessary attention away from the host—who rightfully deserved the spotlight on this day.
Unfortunately, intentions rarely aligned with reality.
The DragonHold delegation was far too conspicuous to slip in quietly. Comprised of Grand Mages, Grandmaster Craftsmen, and led by a stunningly beautiful woman in elegant regalia, their very presence turned heads wherever they went. The room stirred like a hive, whispers spreading in their wake.
Haggleworth, noticing their arrival, instinctively began to move—but Zora, ever poised, sent a subtle gesture, silently telling him not to bother.
Alex chuckled softly from his seat in the south-west wing, amusement dancing in his eyes.
From where he sat, he could clearly see that his lady queen was enduring the growing buzz around her with barely restrained irritation.
Even as the respected majordomo of the DragonHold Enclave, Zora had always preferred a low profile. Few outside the uppermost echelons of the great organisations even knew her face.
'My dear, cold Ice Queen... being tormented by the attention of mere mortals,' Alex thought to himself, lips curving into a faint smirk.
'You must be utterly annoyed right now.'
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