"Now then—our next auction piece!"
This time the tray borne by the hostess was uncovered, its contents already known to all.
"Quiche Lorraine!"
"The taste of it haunts me still!"
"I near begged him for another slice!"
Upon the tray sat quiches, egg tarts, and stracciatella—each a treasure from Darien's own table, now set before the hall.
"Fair lords and ladies," said Isolde, her voice carrying like a chime, "ye have already tasted such marvels. Yet let me commend them once more."
Her gaze swept the gathering, where many licked their lips in longing.
"Quiches rich with ham and herbs! Egg tarts with crowns of golden custard! Stracciatella, light as silk in the broth! All from our Lord's own table—who here shall claim them?"
The merchants leaned close, hunger plain upon them.
"Three portions of quiche. Who starts at three gold?"
"Five!" Oakwyn was swift to call.
"Five is but a trifle—ten!" answered another, raising a hand.
"Fifteen!" Slate added curtly, his tone hard as steel.
"Nineteen coins!"
...
At last, after much bidding and the hall near breathless, the three quiches were struck off to Slate for five-and-twenty gold.
The sum might have climbed yet higher, but Isolde, heeding Darien's counsel, addressed the hall: "These treats only last for one day—eat them now, or they will go bad."
At that, the bidding waned, and the hammer fell.
Thereafter came three porrings of stracciatella, creamy and fair. A merchant of caravans secured them for thirty gold pieces.
Then followed five egg tarts, their fragrance rich and tempting; Fabian laid claim to these for five-and-twenty gold.
Those who gained their prizes rejoiced as though they bore relics of great worth. Yet even the empty-handed went not in sorrow, for each had feasted richly and might boast thereafter:
"Though I return with naught, I have eaten my fill—was that not profit enough?"
A merchant sighed with emotion.
"During the afternoon repast, I alone partook of five quiches, two egg tarts, and stracciatella. Sixty or seventy gold coins' worth? Truly, such a meal I have never known!"
At first, it seemed a trifle—until the sums were reckoned. Astonishment swept through them all.
"One gold coin for a meal is lavish enough… and I consumed five, perhaps seven?"
"Truly, our Lord's generosity knows no bounds. So many gold coins for one man, and there are more than ten of us… Good heavens, what must the total be?"
Oakwyn and Slate met each other's eyes, the same shock plain upon their faces.
They were men who had traveled wide and far, yet never had such fare passed their lips. Each bite was a jewel; even if Darien himself had crafted it, the cost was beyond reckoning.
Thirteen merchants feasted. Count it lightly—fifty gold a man—and the sum soars past six hundred!
Six hundred gold! Enough to keep a thousand folk in Brindlemark fed on black bread for half a year.
And mark the difference: what they bid in trade could be sold again for profit. But Darien's banquet? Pure gift, no gain, coin spent into the wind.
One meal, six hundred gold.
Even a king would scarce dare such splendor.
The merchants, once the tally was made, fell into silence. For all men know the saying: he who eats another's bread is in his debt. Six hundred gold spent at another's table left their hearts ill at ease.
Darien read their unease and smiled gently.
"Think not of coin, friends," quoth he. "Silver and gold are but trappings. To live with cheer—that is worth more than treasure."
At his words, the merchants loosed their breaths, their awe redoubled. To speak so lightly of such wealth, and spend it for their repast—what lord could compare?
"My lord, our thanks. Should ever you call upon us, we are yours to command." said Oakwyn, bowing deeply.
Whether his words were earnest or mere courtesy mattered little—at least the respect was shown.
Seeing him, the others followed swiftly.
"Our thanks, good lord…"
"Grateful are we…"
Darien smiled gently. "Think nothing of it. Only remember, when you travel forth, to speak true of what you have seen and heard in Brindlemark. That alone would gladden me."
"Of course, my lord," said Slate, his aged voice soft but wry. "We shall see to it ourselves. After all… to have partaken of fare worth over six hundred gold coins in a single sitting… one cannot help but speak of it."
Darien's gaze lingered on him, quietly noting the cleverness and honesty in his words.
"My thanks to you all," he said. "Now, the final lot shall be shown—and I shall oversee it myself."
With that, he strode onto the stage, drawing murmurs of surprise from the hall.
Indeed, there was another item, and Darien alone would auction it. Curiosity pricked every mind, even Celeste's, for she had known naught of this lot; it had been arranged solely between Darien and Isolde.
With a slight gesture, Darien beckoned two young men forward. They bore a strange object, swathed in a great white cloth. The merchants leaned forward, noting the youths' presence and wondering at the weight and worth of the item.
The object was set upright upon the stage, the young men bracing it on either side.
"This treasure is of immeasurable worth," Darien proclaimed. "No reserve shall be set. Should a bid please me, it shall be sold; should it not, it will remain unsold."
A murmur of wonder swept through the hall. A treasure so priceless, and yet it might remain unsold—what marvel could it be?
Darien saw the effect was wrought. Swiftly, he tore away the white cloth.
Whoosh!
"What sorcery is this!?"
"How… how can such a thing be?"
All eyes widened in shock.
---
🔍 Did you know?
🍨Stracciatella
– This term originally referred to an Italian soup with egg and cheese "shreds," dating back to 18th-century Rome. Later, it inspired the famous gelato flavor with chocolate shreds.
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