The caravan stopped in a large stone courtyard enclosed by iron fences.Above the entrance hung a polished bronze sign: THE IMPERIAL EXCHANGE Lyra’s stomach tightened.This wasn’t a market.It was an auction.The prisoners were led into separate holding rooms where attendants washed their faces, combed their hair, and dressed them in simple but clean clothing.“Why are they doing this?” Nia asked.“So we look more valuable,” the old man answered quietly.His words settled over the room like a shadow.One by one, names were called.Each prisoner disappeared through a pair of crimson doors.Some returned in tears.Others never returned at all.When the guard finally shouted, “Number Twelve!”Lyra’s heart began to race.She stepped onto a circular platform beneath dazzling chandeliers.Rows of wealthy buyers filled the room.Silk gowns.Fine suits.Jeweled rings.Cold eyes.An auctioneer in a crimson coat raised his hand.“Ladies and gentlemen, our next offering is quite unusual. Young. Healthy. Educated. A former Aether wielder from the northern province.”Murmurs swept through the crowd.“A former wielder?”“Interesting…”“How unfortunate.”The auctioneer smiled.“Though her gift has mysteriously vanished, beauty never loses its value.”Humiliation burned through Lyra. She kept her chin high, refusing to let them see her fear.“Opening bid—five hundred gold crowns.”“Six hundred!”“Seven hundred!”“One thousand!”The numbers climbed rapidly.Every bid made her feel less like a person and more like an object.Then the room fell silent.A woman near the front slowly lowered her fan.She wore a deep emerald gown adorned with pearls, and her golden hair was arranged with flawless precision. Confidence radiated from her every movement.“Five thousand gold crowns.”Gasps echoed throughout the hall.No one dared outbid her.The auctioneer’s smile widened.“Five thousand going once…”He scanned the room.“Going twice…”Silence.“Sold!”The gavel struck the podium with a sharp crack.Lyra belonged to someone new.As the attendants escorted her away, the elegant woman approached with measured steps.She studied Lyra from head to toe.“So,” she said coolly, “you’re prettier than I expected.”