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Chapter 2
Her dark, curly hair flowed down past her waist, the color like the midnight sky.
Her red eyes were as deep and striking as a rose blooming in the night.
Sharp eyebrows and tightly pressed lips completed her fierce expression.
“You recognize her, don’t you?”
Countess Castiglione smiled sweetly.
There was no way to say no.
Anyone involved in high society in the Kalhorn Empire would immediately recognize that face.
Bellaxina Outbayan de Odiberti.
Once a duke’s daughter.
Once the future empress.
She had been the most noble unmarried woman in the entire empire.
If someone didn’t know who Bellaxina was, they didn’t truly belong in society.
But now, because all of that was in the past,
Bellaxina stood on a stage like livestock, being sold as a product.
“Are you enjoying this?”
Avalkin asked, his voice holding a subtle sharpness.
“Of course I am,” the Countess replied, her tone slightly colder now.
“Lady Bellaxina was born into a life of blessings. If she wanted something, she got it. She even had the power to choose the future emperor as her partner. How do you think the rest of us felt—those girls who were forced to marry low nobles just to keep their status?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“How heartless of you to make me walk this thorny path alone. Fine. Then I’ll say it.”
Countess Castiglione stared at Bellaxina, who now stood barefoot on the stage, wearing nothing but a thin cloth—on display like a spectacle.
But inwardly, her gaze wasn’t on Bellaxina.
It was turned inward, examining her own feelings as she continued to speak.
For a brief moment, Countess Castiglione was no longer the proud noblewoman—
she was just a once-unlucky girl named Marlenne.
“The power of House Outbayan was overwhelming. I used to wonder how easy life must be for a woman born into a family like that. I was jealous.
…Maybe if she had a kind, gentle heart, I could’ve accepted it. Maybe I would’ve believed she belonged to a different world than mine—one where she truly deserved all she had.”
“But she didn’t?”
“Not even close.”
The Countess let out a dry laugh.
“Gentle like silk? Please. She was rougher than a cloth made of nettles.
She treated her servants horribly, and the cruel things she did—things no one else would even dare imagine—she carried out without the slightest shame.”
A woman who didn’t deserve it stood holding all of life’s joys like a bouquet of flowers.
Admiration from other women quickly turned to jealousy—
and soon that jealousy turned into a deep wish to see her fall.
It felt like justice.
It felt like the way the world should be.
“So don’t judge me, Lord Marquess. Everyone takes pleasure in seeing good triumph over evil.”
“Were you a victim too, then?”
“That’s…”
For a moment, the Countess was at a loss for words.
Something about Avalkin’s calm question made her feel uneasy—
like her proud claim of “justice served” suddenly lost its weight.
For the first time, a small crack formed in her firm satisfaction over Bellaxina’s downfall.
And Countess Castiglione didn’t like that feeling.
Not one bit.
“It seems you don’t know much about that wicked woman, my lord.”
So she sharpened her words like a blade.
“Everyone knows the story. After she lost the emperor’s favor, she went mad.
To curse the soon-to-be Empress, she turned to the power of demons.”
“Demonic power?”
“That’s not the important part.”
Countess Castiglione smiled, certain that once Avalkin heard this story, his opinion would change.
“Demons never lend their power for free. They say Lady Bellaxina held an orgy on the longest night of the year, inviting several men—and ended up pregnant with a child whose father was unknown. Then, before the baby was even born, she offered it to the demon as payment for a curse! So? Still think I’m the bad one here?”
It was a scandalous rumor—dramatic, but completely illogical.
‘A woman born into a family powerful enough to choose the crown prince as her fiancé… would she really fall apart like that just because she lost his favor?’
But no one listening cared about logic.
No one wanted to ruin the fun by pointing out what made sense and what didn’t when it came to gossip.
“There’s been a misunderstanding, madam. I’ve never once accused you of anything.”
Avalkin replied calmly.
“Hmm. Sure. Let’s go with that.”
Countess Castiglione finally seemed satisfied and turned her attention back to the stage.
Avalkin followed her gaze.
There stood the infamous black-haired, red-eyed villainess—
her body tied with thick ropes, a gag in her mouth, and her expression filled with rage and hatred for the world.
From her, a sweet, fresh scent—like crushed berries—floated through the air and brushed past Avalkin’s nose, catching his attention.
That rumor couldn’t sound less believable if it tried.’
No matter how absurd the gossip was, Bellaxina’s life continued to spiral.
A woman born at the top of the world was now about to hit rock bottom—
The most dramatic fall from grace was unfolding before everyone’s eyes.
“We’ll start the bidding at 200 gold.”
The auctioneer’s lips curled into a mocking smile.
Considering that most ordinary slaves started at around 100 gold,
200 was a high opening bid—
but Bellaxina was no ordinary slave.
She was a noblewoman who owed 4,000 gold.
There was no way anyone would break even starting at just 200.
But that wasn’t the point.
The auctioneer had deliberately set the price low to further humiliate a woman who had already lost everything—
a cruel thrill, nothing more.
“Isn’t that a bit expensive?”
A well-dressed man raised his hand and scoffed.
Clearly, he was playing along with the auctioneer’s little game.
“She doesn’t look like she knows how to do anything. Sure, she’s got a big chest, but the rest of her looks weak and useless. Probably only good for one thing in the bedroom.”
The hall filled with low chuckles.
Everyone was clearly excited about such an entertaining item finally up for sale.
“Oh dear! I must have forgotten to give a proper introduction. My deepest apologies,”
the auctioneer said with an exaggerated bow, clearly enjoying the attention.
“As you can see, this female slave isn’t exactly… practical,” the auctioneer said, spreading his arms dramatically to catch everyone’s attention.
“She’s too weak to even scrub floors or sweep properly. But there’s a reason we’re starting her at 200 gold. And that reason is—her title!”
The auctioneer lifted both arms high, clearly excited—
This, he believed, was the biggest selling point of all.
“This woman, despite being convicted of the horrific crime of attempting to kill a member of the royal family, and losing all her land and wealth, is still officially titled as a ‘Duke’s daughter.’ Can you believe it? Wondering how that’s possible? Judge, would you care to explain?”
The elderly man, called “Judge,” let out a reluctant ahem, clearly annoyed.
He liked to act proper, but he was a regular at this illegal slave auction, just like everyone else.
“It’s because families honored as founders of the nation cannot be stripped of their titles unless it’s a clear act of treason,” he explained stiffly.
“But wasn’t it an attempted murder of royalty? That is treason, isn’t it?”
The auctioneer pushed further, ignoring the uncomfortable expression on the judge’s face.
The judge didn’t want attention from unscripted questions like this.
“…The accused only harassed Lady Irisril, the future empress. She didn’t know Irisril was carrying royal blood. Since there was no intent to harm a royal heir, it wasn’t officially classified as treason.”
“Ah, I see! Thank you for explaining it so clearly for us common folk,” the auctioneer said with a big, fake smile.
Then he gestured to one of his assistants, who quickly brought over a paper envelope.
This was compensation—an apology gift to smooth things over for putting the judge on the spot.
Inside the envelope was a “Guaranteed Winning Bid” voucher.
Thankfully for the auctioneer, the judge’s mood improved the moment he peeked inside.
The well-dressed man who had first complained about the price stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“A duke’s title for 100 gold… That’s actually quite a deal.”
“Exactly right, sir!”
“Hmm. Fine. I’ll pay 200 gold.”
The man who just moments ago had complained about even 100 gold now shouted 200—
and the auctioneer beamed with joy.
That sealed it. Bellaxina was officially worth more than twice the average slave.
Now the bidding would only go up.
But not everyone was enjoying this spectacle.
“200 gold…?”
Bellaxina’s fingers trembled.
That was less than the price of a cup of tea she used to drink.
“I’m worth… only 200 gold?!”
Being sold as a slave just because she didn’t have 4,000 gold was humiliating enough.
But Bellaxina Outbayan de Odiberti, priced at just 200 gold, was more than she could bear.
Her pride was shattered.
“No other bids? Well then, let me show you the Lady Duke’s legs!
This slave isn’t just about her chest, you know!”
The auctioneer reached slyly for Bellaxina’s skirt.
The dress she wore was designed to reveal—
a thin, slit outfit made to show off a slave’s body with just the slightest movement.
Even lifting the edge would expose her bare legs.
The crowd’s eyes immediately fixed on that one spot.
Breaths grew heavier in the room.
Even if she was the empire’s most notorious villainess, they expected she couldn’t escape this shame.
They waited to see her humiliated.
And they likely would have been satisfied—
if her name hadn’t been Bellaxina.
Whack!
“Gah!”
Just as the auctioneer leaned in, grinning and breathing heavily,
his world spun—and he crashed off the stage.
He had no idea what had just happened.
Looking around in confusion, he slowly looked up—
There stood Bellaxina,
having shaken her head side to side to knock the gag free—
“Why am I only 200 gold, you filthy rats?!”
Her voice boomed across the hall—furious and proud,
just as a villainess should be.
“Hah.”
