Oakwyn took a bite of the delicate custard tart, its pastry crisp and buttery, the filling rich and mellow with sweetness.
A thrill ran through him—he felt much of his past indulgences had been but shadows compared to this delight.
In matters of fare, Oakwyn prided himself above his fellow merchants; he had spent countless gold coins on feasts, yet never had he tasted such refinement.
No simple stew or rustic bread could compare.
This was why he had once bid eagerly upon a rare treat, thinking it the height of luxury—yet now he knew otherwise.
Originally, Oakwyn had believed humble pies and roasted meats were the finest Brindlemark could offer.
Now, the silky custard, the zabaglione, and the tender venison prepared with fragrant herbs proved him mistaken.
"Ha! Even after years of feasts and fairs, this surpasses all," Slate murmured, savoring the last bite, a gleam of approval in his weathered eyes.
Oakwyn held the last tart with careful reverence.
The Lord had limited each guest to two tarts, though the Civet de Cerf and fresh fruits were plentiful.
"This… this is unparalleled," Oakwyn murmured, savoring each bite. "Surely, never in all my days have I known such exquisite fare!"
Observing Oakwyn's delight, Slate knew his own thoughts had been laid bare.
Though slightly envious, he cared little, for there remained plenty of sumptuous dishes to enjoy.
"Tell me," Slate whispered, leaning close, "if we were to sell such delicacies, what gains might we reap?"
Oakwyn's eyes gleamed. "It depends upon the purchaser. To a common townsman, a single tart may seem too dear. But to a noble, or even a lord accustomed to fine fare, I wager fifty gold coins might be paid, and they would consider it well spent!"
"Aye… it makes sense," Slate murmured, taking another sip of chianti wine. He wondered whether he might acquire a supply from Darien—not merely for profit, but to sate his own appetite.
Others at the table shared similar thoughts, glancing at the young lord with equal curiosity and admiration.
The afternoon repast drew to a close amid murmurs of delight and astonishment.
Many merchants had never before encountered such a spread—flaky tarts filled with sweet custard, delicate open-faced sandwiches with fine herbs, fresh fruits arranged with care, and red wines in crystal cups.
Some, like Isolde, dared to ask Darien if such a feast might be served again in the future.
Darien replied with a gentle smile: "Should you prove diligent in your duties, I see no reason why we might not enjoy another repast in time."
Though intended merely as a light refreshment, the richness of the fare left many so sated they could scarcely sit upright, half-reclining in their chairs.
Darien himself ate sparingly, for such delicacies were of little consequence to him.
Celeste also partook in moderation, mindful to maintain her ladylike composure.
"Very well, friends," Darien announced, clapping his hands lightly to command attention, "the repast are ended. Let us now begin the auction."
"Of course!" the merchants replied in unison.
Their curiosity and expectations now heightened; if Darien could conjure such delicate fare, what manner of treasures might he offer next?
"Everyone, if you please," Isolde called, guiding the merchants into the next chamber.
The room was modest—no grand halls here, only a simple stage with an auction table and chairs arranged neatly below.
Darien and Celeste took seats at the front, the merchants following in order.
Isolde, her appetite sated and voice clear, stepped upon the stage:
"Gentlemen, good afternoon! Welcome to Brindlemark's auction. I am Isolde, your auctioneer. I am honored to serve. Let us begin!"
Two hostesses in sleek black suits approached, trays in hand draped with white velvet.
The merchants' attention flickered from the women to the contents as Isolde lifted the cloth.
"Today's first lot: refined salt."
Three miniature satchels, brimming with sparkling white crystals, rested before them.
The merchants leaned forward, marveling at the color, the fineness, and the sparkle—so perfect, it seemed crushed pearls or powdered gems.
Each satchels held roughly half a pound.
Isolde moved among them, allowing inspection, then returned to the stage.
"Refined salt," she declared, "is without impurity, pure and delicate. Healthier than coarse salt, it is said a pound requires a full year's labor to produce."
The merchants' eyes widened. Such rarity promised great profit.
"Ten gold coins to start!" Isolde announced.
Bidding rose swiftly:
"Eleven!"
"Fifteen!"
"Thirty!"
Oakwyn's voice rang above the rest: "One hundred gold coins!"
"Going once!"
"Going twice!"
"Going thrice!"
"SOLD!"
The chamber buzzed with excitement.
Even in this modest hall, Darien's careful preparation had turned a humble seasoning into a spectacle of wealth and prestige.
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🔍 Did you know?
🏦 AUCTION
– From ancient Rome to medieval Europe, auctions were used to sell estates, luxury goods, and rare commodities like spices or silk. Bidding often became a display of wealth and influence, turning ordinary sales into prestigious events.