Chapter 35
“Uh…”
Rosie stared at the man, visibly flustered.
It was ridiculous to think something like this while looking at a man whose face was half covered, yet the moment she saw him, someone came to mind—
The man who had gifted her a dazzling second life, the one she had accidentally run into not long ago but had failed to recognize at the time.
But before Rosie could say anything to the man, Ainar stepped in, his voice cold.
“No matter how crowded it is in here, isn’t it too much to ram into a woman who was just standing still?”
Rosie tugged at his arm in embarrassment.
“Manager, please stop.”
The man’s gaze shifted from Rosie to Ainar, then back to Rosie.
“Manager?”
Rosie let out a startled gasp.
The black-masked man from earlier had mentioned it—no one was allowed to reveal their names, titles, or personal information here.
As Rosie panicked, Ainar casually stepped forward as if nothing was wrong.
“Why. Do you have something to say?”
There was something needlessly provocative about his tone.
Rosie hurriedly pushed herself between the two.
“Please stop. Bumping into someone isn’t only one person’s fault. I’m fine, so just go.”
She worried that she was causing trouble for no reason.
Ainar shot her a dissatisfied look, but there was nothing she could do.
What was the point of making a scene over such a small collision?
The man met Rosie’s eyes again and gave her a small nod of thanks before continuing on his way.
Rosie followed him with her gaze. Beside him stood a stunning woman with bright red hair dressed in a lavish gown.
Rosie’s eyes lingered on them.
His eyes—the way he had looked at her just now—were the same bright sky-blue she had seen once before.
And that voice she had heard earlier… small, yet unmistakable.
“Rosie?”
Ainar noticed her strange reaction and followed her line of sight.
The man who had brushed past Rosie earlier, and the red-haired woman beside him—Ainar saw them too.
It was far too long and intent a stare for someone she had supposedly met only in passing.
Just as Ainar was about to call her—
“The next item!”
The black-masked auctioneer spoke as attendants brought out a tray.
“This item is called the Red Smile. Some of you may know this already—this necklace is said to grant its owner one guaranteed wish. For that reason, it is also called the Necklace of Wishes. The starting bid is 10 million gold.”
Gasps spread throughout the hall.
Ten million gold as a starting price was absurd—especially when the Archmage’s magic stone earlier had sold for only ten thousand.
Rosie’s gaze finally snapped away from the man and moved to the stage.
Despite its terrifying reputation, the necklace looked surprisingly ordinary.
“It looks like a regular ruby necklace… ten million gold is insane.”
Rosie let out a bewildered laugh.
She thought she had gotten used to the nobles’ extravagance while staying at Vine Rose, but this? Paying ten million gold for a necklace?
Even the nobles, who had clearly come prepared to spend, were hesitating.
Just as Rosie smirked at their reluctance—
“I bid fifty million gold.”
The hall erupted.
Someone had multiplied the starting price fivefold in an instant.
It was the white-masked man who had bumped into her earlier. Rosie stared in surprise.
She had suspected he might be Cliden, but spending this kind of money on a mere accessory did not fit the memory she had of him.
No… what do I really know?
She shook her head.
He had been the one who sent her to Vine Rose out of a fleeting kindness.
If that man was truly Cliden, spending fifty million gold for the woman accompanying him was nothing.
Is he really that person?
Rosie stared again—just as a chilling voice sounded beside her.
“One hundred million.”
The surrounding nobles inhaled sharply.
Ten million was ridiculous. Fifty million was shocking. But one hundred million—
No matter how stunned they were, no one was more shocked than Rosie.
The bidder was Ainar.
With a smile hidden behind his mask, he whispered to her,
“You seemed to like it.”
Hearing him casually toss out a hundred million gold was terrifying enough, but this—this was worse.
Rosie’s jaw dropped.
“What? What do you mean—”
He couldn’t possibly mean to buy it for her, right?
She shook her head in disbelief. There was no reason for him to do that.
But Ainar spoke as though reading her mind.
“What else would I mean? I told you earlier—if something catches your eye, say so.”
Rosie stared at him dumbfounded before managing to respond.
“…I don’t recall saying I liked it.”
Even if she no longer concerned herself with wealth, there were limits.
But then—
“Two hundred million.”
The white-masked man bid again.
Rosie stared at him, speechless. The price had doubled again.
Perhaps this was for the best, she thought, turning toward Ainar—surely he wouldn’t go any higher now.
She was wrong.
“Four hundred million.”
Just as the other man had done, Ainar doubled it.
Rosie grabbed his arm, horrified.
“Stop!”
He did not respond.
Panicking, Rosie waved frantically at the auctioneer.
“Cancel! Please cancel the last bid! Just sell it to that gentleman—”
“Eight hundred million.”
The white-masked man bid again.
Why?!
Rosie glared at him.
If he had just stopped at two hundred million, he could have gotten the necklace. Why raise it again?
He spoke lightly, as though enjoying her turmoil.
“There is no canceling a bid once it has been made, my lady.”
Rosie whipped around to stare at Ainar. She couldn’t see his expression behind the mask, but she knew exactly where his gaze was—
Fixed on the white-masked man.
An expression full of distaste.
He raised his hand—
“No!”
Rosie slapped both hands over his mouth.
“—!! Wha—mph!”
He tried to pry her hands away, but every time he did, she covered his mouth again.
He could easily have removed her hands if he wanted to, but something about her frantic desperation made him hesitate.
That damned…
Ainar cursed silently as he glared at the white-masked man.
Whoever he was, Ainar despised him.
The tall frame, the pale skin under the mask, the irritating golden hair—nothing about him was pleasant.
But what bothered him most—
Rosie’s gaze kept drifting toward that man.
Even now, while covering Ainar’s mouth.
Ainar turned to the auctioneer irritably.
Surely the man had enough sense not to end the auction like this.
He didn’t.
The auctioneer glanced at the struggling pair, then declared:
“Eight hundred million—sold!”
Ainar finally pushed Rosie away and shouted,
“Twelve hundred…! No—one and a half billion!”
But it was too late. The auctioneer had made his decision.
A complete, devastating loss.
