The servants awaited outside, and Oakwyn and Slate stepped through the hall.
Inside, the room's layout felt more like a noble dining hall than an auction venue: a long oak table, polished and sturdy, with high-backed chairs lined along its sides. Yet for a modest gathering, the two merchants gave no mind.
They had arrived early. A few other merchants were already seated, quietly exchanging nods. Slate inclined his head politely.
"Are they here as well?" Oakwyn murmured, noting the two others. One dealt in cloth, the other in iron—neither trade touched salt.
"Gold coin tempts all men," Slate said with a wry shake of his head.
Soon, more than a dozen invited merchants arrived, taking seats beside Oakwyn and speaking in hushed tones.
"Do you know those young ladies outside?" one asked.
"Nay, I know not which belongs to whom," another replied.
"They move with such grace, and their gowns are most fair," said a third. "A sight fit for the court!"
Though experienced in trade, the merchants now appeared like wide-eyed youths, debating which maiden bore herself with the truest nobility. It was not mere beauty, but the dignity she displayed that captivated them.
A sudden hush fell as Darien entered, accompanied by Celeste, who followed with measured grace. Behind them came Isolde, appointed temporary auctioneer for the day.
The merchants rose at once.
"Your lordship! Your ladyship!" they called, bowing slightly.
Darien inclined his head with noble calm. "I am honored you have traveled so far to attend this modest auction. I have prepared a simple repast, for I know many of you have journeyed without time for midday fare. I hope it pleases you."
Politeness and sincerity colored his words.
The merchants, accustomed to haughty lords, were taken aback. Even Oakwyn, quick to respond, bowed.
"We are honored by your generosity, my lord."
As the merchants settled, a soft clapping drew their attention.
The young ladies returned, pushing small carts laden with delicacies: crusty loaves of herbed bread, platters of cured hams, delicate quiches of egg and quiche, fresh fruits glistening like jewels, and roasted venison glazed with herbs.
Cups of Chianti and lait de miel were offered to each guest, their aromas warming the hall.
Even the most seasoned travelers leaned forward, enchanted by the simple elegance of the fare.
Once the servants had laid out the repast, they stepped back with a bow.
Darien inclined his head and spoke with calm courtesy:
"Please, partake as you wish."
A few merchants could hardly wait.
One eagerly lifted a serving of stracciatella, savoring it with wide-eyed delight.
"By Saint's grace! 'Tis like nectar from the heavens—rich and sweet beyond compare!"
Encouraged, the others followed suit.
"Even in Florence, I have never encountered such perfection!"
"The cream is so light, yet rich… astonishing!"
Celeste, ever refined, savored a spoonful of stracciatella. The creamy chocolate flecks melted on her tongue, and a satisfied gleam lit her eyes.
"Darien, what is this marvel?" she whispered.
"Stracciatella," Darien replied, tasting his own with mild approval. "A simple delight, yet the richness lies in the balance of cream and chocolate."
Celeste nodded eagerly, more delighted by Darien's thoughtfulness than by the particulars of the dessert itself.
Elsewhere, the merchants sampled the offerings with delight. Flaky loaves studded with dried fruits, tender quiches of egg and cheese, and slices of roasted venison, subtly seasoned with herbs, drew murmurs of praise.
"Such bread! It is like clouds of the morning!" one exclaimed.
"And the venison—truly, even my household's best does not compare to this seasoning!" another added.
All around the table, the merchants reveled in the food, and in admiration for the mysterious Lord of Brindlemark, whose generosity and taste far exceeded their expectations.
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🔍 Did you know?
🍷CHIANTI WINE
– "Chianti, the famous Tuscan wine, was prized in medieval Europe not just for its taste but also for trade; its straw-covered bottles, called fiaschi, protected the wine during transport."