“Well, isn’t that something?” Devon chuckled, eyeing him up and down.

  Nick resisted the urge to tug at his clothes. He would have preferred wearing his usual outfit of a cloak and sturdy adventuring clothes underneath, but while it might have been acceptable for him to enter the castle that way the first time he visited during the emergency, he would be rejected at the door if he tried to walk into the auction looking so scruffy.

  So he’d bit the bullet and put on a pair of pressed slacks and a crisp white shirt, along with a nicer jacket. It wasn’t anything ostentatious, since this wasn’t a gala, but it was clearly more effort than he usually put into his appearance.

  Xander grunted as he looked up and nodded briefly. “That will do. I hope you are ready to rough those clothes up in case things go south,” he said, and Nick merely wiggled his hand, revealing his iron spatial ring sitting there.

  “I’m as ready as I can be,” he said, and if anything, it was an understatement, since he’d spent the past days brewing, enchanting, and plotting.

  Especially since discovering the fate of Tholm’s old apprentice. The poor guy was apparently going to make a full recovery, but it would require a strict potion regimen for him to regain his casting prowess. Soul damage does that. It’s honestly more surprising he recovered at all, but then again, Tholm’s resources far exceed anything I can imagine.

  It was somewhat reassuring to know that his mentor would take care of him without regard to cost if he ever got hurt following his orders. Some might have thought it was a given, but Nick had seen how quickly the powerful washed their hands of their subordinates when they no longer needed them. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  “Let’s go, then.” Devon was also dressed in a nicer outfit, with polished leather shoes and a matching belt to hold his sword.

  “Will they let you in with that?” Nick asked, and got a weird look.

  “Of course. We are here to provide security, and it’s not feasible to inspect every spatial container, so asking people not to carry weapons would be useless. That’s not to say anything about the numerous mages who don't need weapons to cause far more damage,” Devon replied, and Nick had to admit that was faultless logic.

  “Is Sonya not joining us?” he asked instead, eyeing the closing gates with curiosity. He could feel her tending to the flowers in the back, which would suggest she wasn’t, but he doubted Xander had any trouble getting another ticket if he wanted one.

  “She doesn’t want to come.”

  Devon’s tone was uncharacteristically short, clearly hinting that they had argued over the same issue before. Normally, Nick would poke and prod until he figured out what was wrong, but today wasn’t the day for distractions. He limited himself to a quiet chuckle when he saw Xander struggle not to roll his eyes.

  Together, they walked the short distance to the end of the noble district, then down Triumph Avenue toward the castle.

  “I would have thought they’d send a carriage,” Nick whispered to his brother, trying to pull him away from his brooding, and it worked because Devon snorted.

  “Master thinks that’s too much. We’re going to do a job, not as guests.” His voice took on a deeper tone at the end, and he mimicked Xander’s mannerisms, frowning and standing with a straight back instead of his usual laid-back slouch. Nick suppressed a snicker, eyeing the old man a few steps ahead and knowing he had to be hearing them, and probably would make Devon pay during the next training session.

  The excitement of the auction seemed to have spread through the population, as the market was in full swing despite it not being a designated market day, with people out and about, filling the streets and chattering excitedly every time a noble retinue passed.

  A lane was kept clear in the middle of the road by several city watchmen so noble guests could pass through without being slowed down by the crowd. Nick saw the men eyeing them as they approached, and one even went to unsheathe his sword when Xander fully stepped out of the crowd and clearly aimed to enter the open path. However, he was left blinking in shock when the old man was already past him a moment later.

  An older watchman quickly pulled him back before he could embarrass himself, and Nick overheard him quietly explaining who exactly he’d almost swung his sword at.

  The two Crowley brothers passed by with amused grins, hurrying to rejoin Xander before they could be stopped, since they were not as recognizable.

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  Thanks to the clear path, they made good time, only needing to step aside twice for enormous and lavish carriages that clearly weren't designed for city travel but for comfortable trips between fiefs, showing that, as predicted, outside nobles had come to Alluria, drawn by the secrecy surrounding this year’s auction.

  At the castle, they were greeted by an older man in a soldier’s livery, though more ornate and clearly of a higher rank, considering the aura of power and respect he projected.

  “Sir Borel,” Xander greeted with a nod, showing more respect than Nick could remember the man giving any but the Duke and Tholm.

  “Grandmaster,” the mad nodded back, before eyeing the two of them with a curious look.

  “My apprentice and his brother, who is apprenticed to Archmage Tholm,” Xander explained briefly, and the knight hummed appreciatively.

  “House Crowley’s future must be very bright,” Borel said, before turning away from them without bothering to listen to their platitudes.

  “We have secured a perimeter around the castle’s main escape routes. The wards have been reinforced, and several plans have been implemented in case of unexpected variables. Nonetheless, I appreciate your presence, Grandmaster. Knowing you are here will make any ill-doer think twice.” The man seemed pretty confident his security measures would hold up to scrutiny, but Nick could sense the relief at Xander’s presence, and considering the watch’s repeated failures to stop the Circle of Pure Souls’ plotting in the city, it was clear why that was.

  It's better to be considered unnecessary when nothing happens than to be known as a failure when chaos breaks out, and you can't control it.

  “Good,” Xander grunted, his eyes sweeping over the barely visible figures of at least a hundred men watching every possible entry point.

  Thanks to [Empyrean Intuition], Nick also saw the same number spread across the basement floor and on the roof, hidden behind the crenellations. Some were knights, but many others were mages, rangers, and everything in between.

  The Duke, it seemed, was not playing about security this time.

  “Your seats, as requested, will be in the lower stalls. It might pique some curiosity among those who recognize you, but I appreciate you blocking the most direct path to the stage.”

  Xander showed little interest in further conversation, clearly signaling he was done with the small talk when he pulled out the silver invitation plaque.

  Sir Borel didn’t take offense at that. If anything, he was relieved by the grandmaster’s rough demeanor, seeing it as a sign that he was truly the silent warrior of legend.

  Following Xander, Nick and Devon displayed theirs, and a ping echoed through the wards above them, which Nick then followed into the castle toward a fortified room. There, he lost track of it, as the multitude of spells surrounding the area produced too much noise to pick up on something so subtle.

  Still, confirmation of the tickets’ validity came quickly, and they were led into the main part of the castle, toward the main theatre set up for today’s events.

  As they crossed the inner courtyard, Nick took a moment to observe the other guests, who were starting to arrive in larger numbers as the start time approached.

  As expected, minor nobles of all kinds and colors could be seen, proudly displaying their house’s sigils and strutting around like peacocks.

  That is, until they had to retreat when the bigger fish came out to play. A few barons were a common sight around Alluria, but Counts weren’t as common, and seeing half a dozen of them at once was a rare sight indeed.

  Several of these men, dressed in such expensive clothes that Nick was sure they could fund Floria’s expansion on their own, approached once Xander’s presence was noticed.

  The old man didn’t seem particularly pleased, but he also didn’t shy away, displaying more political insight than Nick had anticipated. Or rather, more willingness to participate in the great game. He seems the type to prefer simplicity and to handle problems on the battlefield, but that, too, is a strategic front. Not to say he enjoys this, but Xander is craftier than he appears.

  “Grandmaster,” a tall, blonde man in an elaborate frock, bearing a standard Nick recognized as belonging to House Boer of the Orchard, which identified him as Drusilla’s father, approached, scattering the handful of minor nobles who had been inching their way.

  “Count Boer,” Xander greeted shortly, but not impolitely.

  “I see even you were drawn from the walls of your manse by the whispers of the wealth to be sold today,” Boer smiled, lips pulling back in an expression perfectly crafted to be polite yet unsettling, and Nick immediately saw the family resemblance to the witch he knew. “Perhaps a new sword for one of your apprentices?”

  Interestingly, Count Boer appeared fully aware of who Nick was, yet he pretended to be ignorant for some reason.

  “I heard orichalcum would be sold today,” another man slid in, and given the wealth displayed around his neck and fingers, he wasn’t less than Boer, especially since the man got a put-upon look that told Nick he couldn’t afford to send the other away.

  “Count Respire,” Boer greeted. “I heard about the orichalcum, yes, but I doubt the grandmaster needs such raw material. It makes for very durable weapons, but he's known to teach a style that doesn’t require any at all, and to make anything out of it, you would have to contract a legendary blacksmith.”

  Respire lightly reddened, the blush so subtle that it could have been mistaken for the sun hitting his face, but Nick could see the embarrassment he felt at being caught off guard like that.

  The two high nobles exchanged barbs with their words for the next few minutes, with little to no input from Xander, who seemed to endure their presence only because the theater’s doors were still closed.

  The moment the gates groaned open, revealing the illuminated interior to the waiting nobles, the grandmaster wasted no time, nodding curtly to his interlocutors and quickly walking away, forcing Nick and Devon to rush after him, stifling their laughter.

  A page hurried to greet them as they entered, silently guiding them down a plush, red velvet carpet toward the main seating area of the theater, in front of the stage.

  “The Duke has reserved the central three seats for you, Grandmaster,” the boy said, bowing again and vanishing away, presumably to guide the others.

  Xander examined the seats carefully, scanning the room for every possible entry, then sighed and settled in the middle one.

  Nick and Devon looked at each other, silently sharing their feelings about being forcibly separated, but they didn’t push the issue.

  We have been a little too relaxed, especially since they're here for work.

  He, however, had a very clear goal in mind.

  As more people filtered in, filling the stalls with landed knights, barons, and the wealthier merchants who had purchased their tickets before prices skyrocketed, others also began taking their places in the private rooms above, hidden from the view of those below but still within Nick’s senses.

  He was passing the time trying to scan them all when he felt the Duke arrive, noticed movement behind the stage curtain, and knew it was about to start.