SILIN
Thousand.
Ten thousand.
One million.
The numbers just keep getting higher. All eyes are fixed on the young Tarakan on the top of the podium, who stays motionlessly still as shouts echo through the Arena.
Soon, the stake reaches sixty million.
It's offered by Han, who looks confident that he will take the Tarakan back home. His eyes glance around, as if he's almost daring a bid higher than his.
I scoff.
Then I raise my hand.
"One hundred million."
A gasp washes through the entire crowd. And the whispers start up like a storm as I feel countless pairs of eyes shift from Kim Taehyung to my direction. I hear echoes.
The Princess.
The Asura Princess is here.
"One hundred million!" The announcer screams, nearly ecstatic with the price. "Is there anyone else? A higher bid, to top the one of the Princess herself?"
And I'm shocked to see a hand.
"Two hundred million."
It's not Han's. Neither is it any of the rich nobles that I'm aware of, that live close to the provinces of the Crown City of Asura.
The man who raises his hand is masked. I can only see his dark curls that fall over his forehead, but otherwise I can't see anything else.
But then his eyes lift, behind his mask. They're a stunning shade of silver, as his gaze meets mine.
A challenge.
He's challenging me.
I curse inwardly as I raise my hand again. I have to, even if I'd already spent past my planned budget. I need Kim Taehyung. Without him, I might as well have never come back to life.
"Two hundred fifty."
"Three hundred."
This time, he cuts through almost the moment I finish my sentence. My teeth grit against each other.
Who in the hell was that man? I didn't know of a single dark-haired noble, with their eyes so silver like his. If I had, I wouldn't have forgotten him.
He really had that much money, to spend on a single slave? Even if that slave was Kim Taehyung? Or was he just lying to get a rise out of me?
My confidence begins to split in half as the numbers climb, in an exponential rate.
"Four hundred."
"Five hundred."
"Six."
"Seven."
"One billion!" I shout, my eyes narrowed in a furious glare towards the man. And finally, he lets go. His lips curve into an infuriating smile.
But he relents.
A roar passes through the entire Arena.
One billion won. There had never been such a high number, for a single slave.
"Sold to the Princess, for a total of a billion!"
_______________________________
That motherfucker.
My original budget had been a total of two hundred million. I would've never thought anyone would force me to three hundred— let alone a billion.
My father had lectured me for an hour straight after I'd gotten back from the auction. I'd gotten all my funds taken away from me.
I was lucky it had ended there, with the deficit I'd placed the entire Asura Treasury in.
Who in the world was he?
Silver eyes. Dark hair. Masked, elite noble.
I'd searched through the Palace records the moment I'd returned. But there was nothing— no noble existed with the color of those eyes. Not even the most rural Clans held the characteristic of silver eyes.
I bury my head in my hands, sighing deeply on the edge of my bed.
Then there's a knock on my door.
...Jimin?
I get to my feet, trying to compose myself as I stand in front of the door for a couple seconds. Then trying to force a smile on my face, I open the door.
A pair of scarlet eyes gaze down at me.
For a second, I'm too stunned to speak.
But then the Tarakan bows his head. He's been washed and groomed— there's a faint scent of floral shampoo on him. His clothes are fresh silk cotton.
"May I come in?"
Did he have a question?
"Yes— yes, you may." I murmur, stepping aside to let him in. His blood red eyes remain straightforward as he makes his way to the center of the room, where the bed is.
I close the door behind him.
"Did you want to ask me someth—"
I turn, to see him undressing.
He's already unbuttoned his shirt, which lay on a pile on the floor. And I rush over to him just when he reaches for his pants. My hand grips his wrist.
"Kim Taehyung!"
He looks at me, eyes blank.
"What do you think you're doing?" I sputter, hurrying to scoop his shirt off the floor. Then I press it to his bare chest, noticing countless scars run over his skin. "Are you crazy?"
"Crazy?"
"I was told to please you in bed." He echoes. And I hear the inner hatred underlying his voice.
"Isn't that why you spent a fortune on me for?"
I stare back at him.
My goodness. I'd find whoever had told him that and put them on the execution table. He was only seventeen.
"Heavens no." I say, completely appalled as I push the shirt back into his arms. "Take it and put this back on right now. All I want to see you doing is eating well and training hard alongside the Royal Guard, do you hear me? Don't you ever say anything like that again."
Please me in bed.
I shake my head in disbelief, turning away.
A child like him. He didn't even know how to even begin touching a woman, and he'd come to me so boldly like this.
But it's like he reads my mind.
"I know how." He whispers sharply. "If inexperience is what you're worried about, Mistress."
Mistress?
I freeze.
"Are you telling me you've been in bed before with other women?" I say, turning. And I want to refuse to believe it, when he speaks.
"I've served other mistresses before you."
"So use me however you want."
Heavens.
I slowly make my way towards him. And the edges of my heart melt a little for this boy, when I see him tense. My lips purse together in regret.
Why had I thought of him as someone unbreakable— a simple asset for me to use.
I had let my image of him in the future take over the way I saw him now. I'd seen him as the warrior he'd become five years later, undefeated as the King's loyal right hand. Always stained in the blood of battle, being used to it all.
But he was not that person yet.
He was still a child.
A child, who'd been taken advantage of so many times that he had come to accept it as natural.
I reach up. And I see his scarlet eyes widen a little in shock when I place my hand on the top of his head, instead of his body.
I sigh quietly.
"Taehyung."
"Am I your Mistress?"
His brows furrow, as if I'd asked him some trick question. But finally, he doesn't find anything hidden.
"...yes."
"Then for the entire time that I am, I swear upon the Asura name that I will never force you into my bed." I say firmly. "And if anyone else ever tries to, I swear that I'll have them executed on the spot. Let no one lay a hand on you ever again."
"Do you understand?"
He nods. He still doesn't look like he trusts me and what I said, but that doesn't matter.
Because it's true.
"Good," I whisper, taking my hand off of his head.
"Then put your shirt back on this instant."