“One lone assassin sent for a slave,” her mother mused. “Odd that. He didn’t seem that professional. Even Lila managed to pin him.”
“Thanks, Mother.” Lila stared at the spot where the stranger had died, now mopped and cleared of blood and foam. “I’ve never seen someone last so long after being hit by a tranq. He must have taken a suppresser before the auction. That’s neither cheap nor easy to come by.”
“Loyalists?” her father asked.
“Loyalists wouldn’t want Oskar to return to Germany. King Lucas himself might have given the order. I can’t think of anyone else who would go after him.”
Her mother took a glass of wine, offered by the frantic auction house staff. A LeBeau heir had finally taken charge in Olivia’s absence, intent on soothing the crowd with booze and food. Little sandwiches and pastries now circled the room.
Beatrice handed Lila a glass, inclining her head at Lila’s hands. Her fingers had begun to shake.
Randolphs didn’t tremble before other heirs.
Lila took a long sip of the wine. She needed to get out of the building. She needed to get back home and trace the snoop’s message. She had to find Reaper’s partner and figure out the game before another message appeared on her palm.
“This is exactly why I didn’t advertise Oskar’s sale and why I wanted to get rid of him so quickly,” her mother said. “One slave is not worth the increased security costs, no matter the bragging rights. The others are fools if they bid at all.”
Lemaire cocked a brow. “Just say the word, and my people will take Oskar.”
“Have you told your security detail that?” Lila asked.
“They’ll adjust.”
“How can it be that no one’s shot you yet?”
“Henri, I’ll not give you the boy. I’d never have another successful auction again. You can’t promise to sell things and not sell them.”
Six LeBeau blackcoats brought Oskar back to the stage, for the LeBeau now running the show must have been eager to conclude the auction. The blackcoats stood on either side of him, covering the ragged bullet holes in the stage, their stern gazes panning the crowd.
The auctioneer walked to the podium, weaving a tad on his feet. He carried a glass of amber liquid with him, and the militia eyed it knowingly. Perhaps they’d taken a drink or two as well. The people of the Allied Lands weren’t used to bullets, not unless you’d taken a tour in the infantry, and few among the highborn joined the military.
The auctioneer tapped on the microphone. After a brief speech about the LeBeaus’ commitment to security, he opened a folder and began to read quickly, giving them a brief outline of Oskar’s medical history, his parentage, and his skills. Oskar stared at the floor, reddening as the auctioneer mentioned he suffered from anxiety and stomach problems.
Tristan must have endured the same as a child, listening as some stranger read details of his personal life to a bored crowd.
Had he gone red, too?
Lila tried to catch the boy’s eye again, but he refused to look up. He just kept his hands in his pockets, fidgeting as fifteen-year-old boys tended to do.
“Of course, as a German citizen, Oskar Kruger will never be allowed to purchase his mark,” the auctioneer concluded.
Onstage, Oskar frowned.
“I’ll start the bidding at ten thousand.”
Chairw
oman Hardwicke raised her paddle.
A man beside them countered it, another proxy for a foreign bidder, by the look of his coat. “The boy doesn’t belong here,” he hissed, his desperation overriding his propriety.
“He doesn’t belong in Germany either,” Lila said. “I suppose you’ll help shuffle him along if your patron wins the bid.”
“Of course not. It would be illegal for me to conduct business on behalf of a Roman citizen. The laws are strict—too strict, if you ask me.”
“That’s almost treason.”
The laws weren’t too strict, and they both knew it. Only citizens of the Allied Lands had the right to bid on slaves. If a non-American won the auction, Chief Shaw would have to verify everything before allowing Oskar out of the country. Papers would be signed, contracts would be validated by both governments, and many promises and assurances would be made on both sides.