CHAPTER 149: CH 149: CAN YOU GIVE IT TO ME? - PART 1

The grand hall of the auction house was in chaos. Murmurs and complaints buzzed through the crowd like angry bees as restless guests shifted in their seats.

Many of them were prominent collectors, nobles, and merchants who had traveled from distant regions solely to attend this highly anticipated auction, drawn by the promise of rare artifacts — especially the mysterious pendant that had been advertised as the highlight of the event.

Behind the stage, the auction house manager, a portly man with slicked-back hair and a perpetually sweating forehead, paced frantically, muttering to himself.

"Where is it? Where is it?!"

Every passing second without the pendant gnawed at his nerves. The staff he sent to search had returned empty-handed, and with each failure, his panic deepened.

Finally, the mounting pressure forced him to swallow his pride and approach the one person he dreaded speaking to.

Lady Seraphine.

She stood near the edge of the private viewing balcony, draped in a flowing gown of deep crimson and black, radiating quiet authority.

Her guard, Dorian, stood close behind her, his sharp gaze watching everyone who dared step too near.

"My lady. We... we have a situation. The pendant — the main attraction of the evening — is missing."

The auction manager began, his voice cracking under the strain.

Lady Seraphine’s amber eyes flicked toward him, her expression unreadable.

"I’m aware. What are you suggesting?"

She said evenly, her tone controlled yet carrying an edge of ice.

"I’m suggesting that this is your fault. You were the one who brought me the faulty necklace in the first place! If it weren’t for your incompetence—"

He hissed in frustration, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Before he could finish, Dorian’s hand shot to his sword, unsheathing it halfway with a sharp hiss of steel. The manager’s voice died in his throat as cold fear flashed across his face.

"Watch your tongue. Insult my lady again, and I’ll make sure you won’t be able to speak another word."

Dorian growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The manager stumbled back, hands raised in panic, the color draining from his cheeks.

"I-I—I didn’t mean—"

"Dorian...Stand down."

Lady Seraphine’s voice cut through the tension, smooth yet commanding. She raised a delicate hand, signaling him to lower his weapon.

Reluctantly, Dorian obeyed, though his glare at the trembling manager promised there would be no second warnings.

"My lady, he—"

Dorian started, but Seraphine silenced him with a glance before turning her attention back to the auction master.

"I will take responsibility. The security surrounding this auction was under my jurisdiction. That was my failing."

She said calmly, though her voice carried an undercurrent of authority that made the man straighten instinctively.

The manager blinked, momentarily disarmed by her composure. But almost immediately, his entitlement flared, and he jabbed a finger toward her.

"Then you had better fix this, my lady. We have dozens of important guests demanding answers, and if we don’t recover that pendant before the deadline, the entire reputation of this auction house will be ruined!"

Dorian’s jaw clenched as his hand twitched near his sword again, but Lady Seraphine placed a restraining hand on his arm, her calm never wavering.

"You’ll have it back."

She said simply, her tone carrying quiet confidence that silenced any protest he might have had.

"You’d better-!"

The manager snapped before retreating, though his steps were shaky and hurried, as if afraid to stay within Dorian’s striking range a moment longer.

As the pair stepped out of the auction house and into the cooler evening air, Dorian finally spoke, his voice laced with restrained irritation.

"My lady, why did you stop me? That sniveling man dared raise his voice to you. He deserves worse than just a scare."

Lady Seraphine’s lips curved into the faintest trace of a smile, though her eyes glimmered coldly under the fading light.

"Oh, make no mistake, Dorian... I agree with you. That man deserves worse than he can possibly imagine."

"Then why let him off so easily?"

"Because, our concern isn’t with petty fools who bark without teeth. No... someone has dared to cross me. Someone clever enough to steal from me."

She replied, her gaze drifting toward the distant rooftops, where the moonlight traced silver patterns against the shadows.

Dorian’s expression hardened at her words.

"And I want to know exactly who that fool is... before I make them regret it."

She continued softly, her voice dipping into a dangerous calm,

Meanwhile, in a quiet corner of the city, Kana was deep in slumber.

The day’s events had drained her, and though Lysera and Irielle rested peacefully beside her, Kana’s sleep was anything but restful.

At first, it was subtle — a creeping sensation pressing against the edges of her consciousness, like a whisper brushing past her ear but leaving no sound behind.

Her breathing hitched as shadows swirled faintly within her dreams.

And then, she felt it.

An overwhelming sense of pressure, as though something — or someone — was reaching for her. Her chest tightened, and her breaths grew shallow.

Cold sweat gathered along her brow, and suddenly her eyes snapped open.

She gasped, sitting upright in bed, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.

The room was still, cloaked in soft darkness, and the faint glow of the pendant on the table caught her eye immediately.

Kana’s fingers instinctively clutched at her chest as she forced herself to take deep, steady breaths, but it didn’t help much.

The sensation — the suffocating weight — lingered stubbornly, like invisible hands wrapping around her.

Neither Lysera nor Irielle stirred, their steady breathing unbroken, which only made Kana feel more isolated in that moment.

Biting her lip, she swung her legs off the bed and slowly stood, stretching her body as though trying to shake off the lingering chill crawling across her skin.

Her gaze shifted to the pendant resting nearby, its faint shine catching the moonlight filtering through the window.

She hesitated for a long moment before reaching out to touch it, her fingertips brushing against its cool surface.

"...What now?"

She whispered softly, almost to herself.

There was no answer — only the quiet rustle of leaves outside and the steady, peaceful breaths of the two women asleep beside her.