Chapter 19

“Still, I can’t go like this. What should I do…”

Though Hera had managed to hide in a corner, away from people’s eyes, she didn’t have a clear solution.

Thinking it would be better to just retrace her steps, she turned to leave.

That’s when the prophecy book’s letters suddenly appeared right in front of her—as if to block her path.

[When you need to use the prophecy book’s power, just call the ‘nickname’ set for the book.]

“Nickname?”

This was probably something Emilia had set up.

Hera carefully said what she guessed might be the nickname Emilia would have chosen.

“Prophecy… book?”

No response.

Which made sense. That was just the actual title of the book, not a nickname.

She thought hard, but imagining things like this wasn’t exactly Hera’s strong suit.

With a troubled expression, she barely managed to force out a word.

“Blue… Rose…?”

[Yes, Hera Wintail.]

As soon as she guessed correctly, the letters reappeared as if they’d been waiting.

A prophecy book that released blue rose petals.

It seemed Emilia had named herself “Blue Rose” and used the same name for the book’s alias.

Emilia. Seems like your imagination isn’t that great either.

Feeling a strange sense of kinship, Hera sighed in relief.

“So, I can use the prophecy book’s power now.”

That must mean she could do something magical, like when she’d grown wings and jumped from the Duke of Antony’s window.

“I need a mask and new clothes. Is that possible?”

[It is. Just imagine the look you want, Hera Wintail.]

“So, if I imagine it, it’ll come true? Can I even change my face?”

[Of course, Hera Wintail.]

The answer came far too easily.

Just what was this book?

Its power went far beyond anything Hera could imagine, and that scared her a little—but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

“I’ve imagined it…”

Truthfully, Hera didn’t know Emilia Tolin’s face very well.

Even after living in her body, she still hadn’t gotten used to the reflection.

She hardly looked in mirrors and often avoided them on purpose.

So, the version of herself she imagined naturally took the form of Hera Wintail—not Emilia Tolin.

[Confirmed, Hera Wintail.]

Jet-black hair and green eyes.

She imagined a black satin dress, one her mother Belina often wore.

A gown with diagonally cut overskirts, trimmed with soft rabbit fur—elegant and refined.

It was the kind of dress she always wanted to wear when she grew older.

As for the mask, she pictured something simple, just covering the area around her eyes, matching the dress in design.

Lost in her imagination, Hera had closed her eyes—when she opened them slowly, she gasped.

“Oh my… it’s exactly as I imagined.”

Her long black hair cascading down her chest, the familiar dress she missed so much—it was all real.

But if she had seen herself in a mirror, she would’ve been even more shocked.

She looked exactly like Hera Wintail before her death.

No, not just before death—she looked like the version of Hera she had wanted to be.

Not the pale, sickly girl drugged with painkillers, but a vibrant, healthy young woman full of life.

“Oh, and I need an invitation too.”

Unaware that her appearance reflected her own desire, Hera turned her gaze to the center of the hall, observing the flow of people.

They were showing invitations to masked men and entering deeper into the venue.

[As you wish, Hera Wintail.]

An invitation appeared in her hand.

It was designed in an antique, elegant style.

“Colin Hugh Rivers Auction House…”

The name of the place was written on the invitation.

It sounded like a person’s name, or maybe the name of a circus troupe.

But most importantly, when Hera realized that this secret gathering was an auction, she felt a bit relieved.

“If the price isn’t too high, I can just buy it instead of stealing it.”

✦✦✦

“Sold for one million Lunas.”

That… was a mistake.

One million Lunas? How much is that even…? I don’t know, but it sounds like a ridiculous amount.

Even someone like Hera, who had no real sense of money, couldn’t help but be stunned by the numbers.

One million Lunas was enough to buy three houses for a middle-class family.

Even nobles used to wealth would hesitate to spend that much all at once.

So, it was clear that the dozen or so members in this secret auction room were beyond even the wealthiest nobles.

“Now! Presenting the highlight of today’s Colin Hugh Rivers Auction!”

The auctioneer’s figure and voice made it hard to determine their gender.

Standing in a secret underground space, dressed plainly in front of a group of shadowy people, the host somehow maintained an overly enthusiastic tone.

“<The Dancer on the Peony>!”

“Oh my gosh…”

When the treasure the prophecy book had mentioned finally appeared, Hera couldn’t help but let out a gasp.

[<The Dancer on the Peony> has been detected.]

Just like the name, a woman who appeared to be a dancer was lying atop a fully bloomed peony flower.

Nude.

You’re telling me to buy that? I can’t even look at it properly!

Come to think of it, most of the paintings in this auction were fairly erotic.

Maybe not full nudity like this one, but the themes were all similar.

Paintings of women in suggestive poses and revealing outfits.

“The dancer in this painting is the very woman you’ve all been waiting for. We all know it, even if we pretend not to. Yes, this is the beauty you’ve all been longing for. We’re starting the bid at 100,000 Lunas!”

Considering the other paintings had started at 10,000 Lunas, this one was clearly the star of the event.

Why are they buying this? Why?

Hera couldn’t even look directly at the painting—she just lowered her gaze.

She found it bizarre that people wanted to own a painting of a nude woman.

[<The Dancer on the Peony> has been detected.]

What kind of treasure is that? It’s just… just a painting of a naked woman.

The prophecy book flashed another message in the air, almost scolding her.

“Six hundred thousand! Anyone else? Surely you won’t stop here—seven hundred thousand, excellent!”

[<The Dancer on the Peony> has been detected.]

That thing is not a treasure!

“Nine hundred thousand! The bids keep going up!”

[<The Dancer on the Peony> has been detected.]

Why would anyone… seriously…

“One-point-five million! We have a new record! I’ll count down. One-point-five, one-point-five, one-point…”

[<The Dancer on the Peony> has been detected.]

The auctioneer’s loud voice, the skyrocketing prices, the flashing blue letters from the book—it was overwhelming.

Hera just wanted to shut her eyes and cover her ears.

But when the host began the final call, Hera knew she couldn’t back out.

Who knew when she’d get another chance to obtain this treasure?

Everyone here was masked, concealing their identity.

“I…”

Trembling, Hera raised her hand.

The auctioneer tilted their head, unsure of Hera’s intent.

Hera squeezed her eyes shut and shouted,

“Two million!”

Gasps echoed around the room.

The amount Hera shouted was staggering.

“We have a new record for the highest bid ever! Two million!”

The auctioneer shouted with even more excitement.

“SOLD!”

Completely drained, Hera slumped into her seat.

Then, a burly man who had been standing guard in the corner approached her.

He bowed respectfully.

“Ma’am, I’ll guide you to collect your item.”

Wait… did I really win the auction? That easily?

Still dazed, Hera looked at the man.

Money. What about the money? Where am I supposed to get two million Lunas…?

No way. The prophecy book will help me… right?

She had some faith—after all, the prophecy book had given her wings and even disguised her appearance.

It had to help her with the money too. Somehow.

Trusting that, Hera followed the man toward the inner room to make her payment.

Unbeknownst to her, someone in the crowd was watching her closely.

It was Mariot Laurent, the man with golden wheat-colored hair.