After a few days, word of the auction house spread swiftly through noble circles. Rumors claimed that everyone present that night had been killed—except for the nobles involved, who were spared for judgment through legal process.
Fortunately, all the children and teens were rescued and transferred to a sanatorium where they could finally receive proper care.
Meanwhile, at the training grounds—
"Whoa! For a guy with such a scrawny body, you're surprisingly good!" a knight laughed, slinging an arm around Rowan's shoulder.
River and Paul, who had been watching him like hawks, immediately stiffened.
Rowan forced a smile, still gripping his sword awkwardly when another knight wandered over and barked, "Hey, don't cling to him like that! Anyway, Johann—how's your arm?"
Scratching the back of his neck, Rowan gave a sheepish grin.
"It's okay now, Look, it's completely healed."
"That's good! So, how about drinks tonight? We just got some good news, why don't we celebrate!"
Rowan opened his mouth to answer but before he could, River yanked the knight's arm off his shoulder so hard that the man stumbled backward a step.
Without missing a beat, River draped his own arm around Rowan instead, wearing a stiff smile that didn't reach his eyes—
making Paul's jaw dropped.
"You bastard! How dare you lay a hand on His Grace's omega!" Paul seethed while practically imagining himself beating River to a pulp.
"Don't bother him. Johann's already got too much on his plate," River said firmly.
Rowan tilted his head, confused. "Eh? I have nothing to do, though. It's fine! I can even drink tequila and cocktails, you know? Hahaha!"
The laughter died on his lips as the training ground went silent. Knights froze mid-swing while others nearly dropped their swords.
And a few coughed violently, one even choking on his own spit.
"Cock… what?" several asked in unison with scandal thick in their voices while others whispered furiously as if Rowan had just confessed to some forbidden act.
Then Rowan's face drained of color. Shit, wrong word! He raised his hands quickly while laughing nervously. "N-No, no, not that kind of cock! I mean—uh—cocktail! It's just… a drink! Like, um… ale but… fancier? Mixed! Yeah, mixed drinks! You know… fancy water! It's just fancy water, damn it!"
The knights blinked at him while being more confused than before.
A couple exchanged wary glances and one even muttered, "Fancy… water?" like it was some sort of sorcery.
"Does a cock… have a tail?" one man asked, brow furrowing in genuine confusion.
Rowan, desperate to save face, kept rambling. "I-It's not what it sounds like! Really! Nothing indecent at all, hahahaha—"
By now, Paul was pinching the bridge of his nose while River was holding in laughter so badly that his face had turned red, and the knights were muttering like they had just witnessed something scandalous.
From a distance, Zalyric smirked while clearly entertained.
As for Evan, he just groaned and slapped a hand over his face, muttering, "Saints preserve us…"
After their bickering, time slipped by quickly and evening settled in. While Zalyric was buried in paperwork, the Arwen household was steeped in chaos.
"Ah, f-father, please!" Celestine clung desperately to her father's right leg with tears streaking down her cheeks as she begged him to stop.
Her frail hands trembled against the polished boots of the man who should have protected her. Bael Arwen looked down.
"Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Why did I even bother keeping you alive? Had you been born a son, an alpha, you would have been worth something! Instead, I get you—a weak, useless omega who can't do anything but whimper at my feet!"
Celestine shook her head desperately. "Father, I'll do better, I swear. Please, don't hurt me. I'll try harder—"
"Try harder?" Bael's laughter was sharp and cruel as he kicked her hands aside, making her collapse onto the cold marble floor.
"You've been saying that all your entire life and what has it gotten me? Nothing! A daughter who can't do anything right and can't even earn that bastard's attention. You disgust me!"
"I-I'm sorry," she whimpered, pressing her forehead to the floor.
"Please, I'm so hungry… I haven't eaten in two days. I can't keep going like this…"
Bael crouched in front of her and gripped her chin so hard that her jaw ached. His breath was hot with eyes blazing with contempt.
"Listen well, Celestine. If that bastard Zalyric won't acknowledge you, then make him. I don't care if you have to crawl into his bed, spread your legs like the whore you are, or beg at his feet. Just do it. Seduce him, use your wretched pheromones and make yourself useful for once in your life. Otherwise, you're nothing more than dead weight. Do you understand?"
Celestine's tears fell freely but Bael only sneered at the sight.
"Stop being pathetic. If I had any sense, I would have strangled you the moment your mother died giving birth to you." Her body trembled under the weight of his words.
"Father… please…"
Then Bael shoved her chin aside as if she were filth.
"You should thank me every day for not throwing you out into the streets. The only reason you still draw breath is because I think you might still be of use. Fail me again and you'll find out how merciful I've truly been."
With that, he stood and stormed out with heavy footsteps echoing through the hall. When silence finally settled, Celestine straightened slowly as she coldly wiped her tears from her face.
"Has Father left already?" she asked while her gaze was fixed on the mirror with a bitter smile tugged at her lips. She also didn't bother to look at her attendant.
"At least I should be grateful he didn't damage my face tonight, yes?"
The attendant said nothing, bowing her head.
This was Celestine's life.
Behind the polished veil of her noble status lay years of degradation. From the moment she was born, with existence costing her mother's life—her father and two alpha brothers had cast her aside.
Bael alone kept her close, not out of love but because he saw her nothing more than a pawn, a tool to reach Zalyric.
"Thank him for not kicking me out? Hah. I will never let you have what you dreamed of, Father. Rot in hell…" Celestine whispered in her mind with quiet resolve as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, her attendant's figure lingering silently in the shadows behind her.