H27.12.29 Revised.
Added content.
H28.3.27 Revised again.
H28.4.17 Revised yet again.
“Now then, the slave for entry number three will now enter.”
Following the eloquent introduction by the somewhat dandyish gentleman who served as the master of ceremonies, a maiden with silver hair, though possessing a slightly cold impression, emerged from the wings of the stage.
While both had silver hair, Yurisha’s, which had been auctioned earlier, possessed a radiant luster. Sirene’s, on the other hand, seemed to be a dull silver, and due to fatigue, it lacked a certain brilliance.
Of course, her silver hair was styled up and woven in, so it wasn’t particularly noticeable.
Sirene had a slender face, with slightly upturned eyes, and she wore silver-rimmed glasses.
These glasses might have been for show, but they exuded an intelligent aura while simultaneously giving off a cold impression.
She had the appearance of a stringent etiquette tutor who was past her prime, picky about details.
Sirene’s attire consisted of an unusual outfit: a kimono-like garment with a subdued color that fastened in the front with a decorative sash, and she wore a navy skirt that reached down to her feet.
The upper garment was likely a pseudo-kimono inspired by the clothing worn in the Eastern Nations, with a peculiar design where the hem only reached around her waist.
“This slave is Sirene Iris von Ordors, the eldest daughter of Count Ordors, who was purged for plotting rebellion half a year ago.”
Sirene, too, was a princess by birth who should have been publicly executed long ago.
“She is seventeen years old, talented in languages, fluent in seven tongues, and as you can see, her appearance is also outstanding…” the descriptive speech continued.
“Now then, we will have her demonstrate her skills.”
Following the announcer’s cue, Sirene began reciting a ballad praising ancient heroes.
Sirene’s singing voice was clear, reaching even the high notes, and it was so full of realism that one could almost envision the heroes fighting before their eyes.
The auction patrons fell silent, listening intently to Sirene’s ballad.
“Now, we have kept you waiting, but it is time to inspect the quality you have eagerly awaited.”
As the master of ceremonies announced this, the ceiling lights dimmed, just as before, and spotlights illuminated Sirene.
Then, the orchestra in the wings began to play an old-fashioned love song.
This song, notorious for being banned due to its excessive lewdness upon its release, was arguably the perfect choice for this occasion.
Sirene, perhaps from shame, her face flushing bright red, untied the sash holding her upper garment. As she let her arms fall from her shoulders, the subdued-colored garment flowed onto the auction stage.
Next, she unfastened the belt holding her skirt, and the skirt, too, slid down onto the auction stage.
At this point, Sirene was in her undergarments.
She wore a light blue slip, held up by straps over her shoulders.
The fabric itself was thin, allowing her small breasts to be half-visible, with the contours of her nipples discernible.
Lowering her gaze, the hem of the slip reached mid-thigh, but with the light source from behind, one could discern the state of her crotch, and that she was wearing something resembling panties.
The mage controlling the lighting was doing a good job.
However, upon becoming dressed only in her undergarments, Serine cried out, “Kyaaa!” and clutched her slender chest with both hands, collapsing onto the auction stage.
This was a scene I had witnessed before.
As a matter of fact, or rather, as expected, this seemed to be a predictable outcome. A mage waiting in the wings cast a spell, or perhaps hypnosis, on Sirene, similar to what Gaspar had used on Alicia before.
Sirene stood up blankly and calmly removed her undergarments, revealing her small but cute breasts, an unexpectedly firm abdomen, and the pubic mound with its silver pubic hair that followed.
Her well-toned buttocks were also a notable feature.
The magic dispelled the moment she became naked. Sirene, regaining consciousness, looked like she was about to sob but seemed to be holding back.
“Now, she will pour drinks for everyone in the audience, so please observe her up close.”
The master of ceremonies’ merciless pronouncement followed, and Sirene, looking down, descended from the auction stage.
Even in this state, perhaps due to the pride of her noble status, she circulated, pouring drinks, albeit with a slightly unsteady gait.
“What shall I pour for you?”
Sirene asked, her face a little pale, as she approached our box seat. Her voice was slightly hoarse and tearful, which was painful to hear.
“I’ll have the whiskey on the far right,” the old man said, as usual.
“I’ll have that apple juice over there,” I ordered, following my father’s lead.
“I will pour them for you,” Sirene said.
She then took the designated bottles from a woman pushing a cart and poured them into our glasses, but her hand trembled slightly, causing a bit to spill.
“I am so sorry. Please forgive me…”
Sirene apologized in a voice that seemed to be fading away for this mishap.
“It’s fine,” the old man said, generously forgiving the mistake.
Seen up close, Sirene’s skin was so pale it seemed transparent. Her breasts were small, but they were balanced with her slender frame. While opinions might differ on what men prefer, in my assessment, she was an undeniably beautiful girl.
And it seemed the glasses she wore were indeed for show.
Furthermore, at seventeen years old, Sirene’s crotch was covered in curly silver pubic hair, and her secret crack was hidden deep within.
“Thank you for the drinks. May you also find a good match.”
Strangely enough, I felt no particular miasma from Sirene, so I simply offered my thanks for the drinks.
After finishing her drink-serving duty, Sirene returned to the auction stage, spread her legs slightly, clasped her hands behind her back, and struck that familiar pose, pushing out her small chest.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the auction for entry number three will now commence.”
The somewhat dandyish master of ceremonies announced.
“This slave will start at 500 platinum coins (equivalent to 500 million yen).”
After confirming that Sirene had assumed the pose, the start of the bidding was declared.
“600 platinum coins.”
A gentleman from seat number 23 increased the bid.
“630 platinum coins. I will absolutely win this girl,” gentleman number 17 declared heatedly, without missing a beat.
“700 platinum coins.”
The bidding gradually escalated, and in the end, gentleman number 17, filled with determination, won the bid for 850 platinum coins (equivalent to 850 million yen).
The purchased Sirene was given a slave garment. She quickly put it on, but noticing how thin the fabric was, she exited while covering her chest and crotch with both arms.
“It seems Princess Sirene has been saved,” my father explained, as usual.
“Father, while I feel sorry for Sirene, she certainly deserved execution given her background, didn’t she?” I asked my father, posing a question.
“Actually, gentleman number 17 is a count from the Espana Imperial Kingdom, but his territory is in a remote region, so finding a bride has been difficult,” my father, who knew many people, seemed to know the identities of most of the auction patrons.
“So, he was pinning his last hopes on this special ‘Slave Auction,’ also known as the ‘Princess Auction’.”
Then, my father mentioned the common name, “Princess Auction,” again.
“It is likely that after taking Princess Sirene home, he plans to free her from slavery, have her adopted by a noble family as a dependent, and then officially marry her as his wife.”
“That seems a bit far-fetched, don’t you think?” I offered a common-sense opinion on my father’s explanation.
“In this ‘Princess Auction,’ the lineage of the auctioned slaves is concealed after their sale, and past circumstances are fully disregarded. This is called ‘Princess Laundering’,” my father explained. However, as I had overseen the Inquisition department during my past life as Cardinal Lester, I knew that minor officials and wealthy merchants laundered ill-gotten gains to convert them into clean funds. I was astonished that they would ‘launder’ a princess who should have been executed, to keep her alive.
“Therefore, Princess Sirene can survive with a new name and history. After all, the royal families of various countries are the ones secretly organizing this auction,” my father casually revealed a shocking reason, though it was also an expected answer.
In this world, it is customary for the royal families of vanquished nations or the families of rebel nobles to be executed entirely. However, among them are beautiful princesses who deserve to be spared, so they likely have such exceptional measures in place.
Incidentally, there is no such thing as a ‘Prince Auction’; they are executed without exception.
In other words, the ‘Princess Auction’ seems to be for princesses with problematic backgrounds who cannot be put up for a general ‘Slave Auction.’ Essentially, if accepted by the organizers, they are put up for auction according to regulations, and the master who wins the bid can create a new name and history for them.
Settlement Currency
1 Platinum Plate = 100 million yen
1 Gold Plate = 10 million yen
1 Platinum Coin = 1 million yen
1 Silver Plate = 1 million yen
Standard Circulation Currency
1 Gold Coin = 100,000 yen
1 Silver Coin = 10,000 yen
1 Copper Plate = 1,000 yen
1 Iron Plate = 100 yen
1 Copper Coin = 10 yen
1 Iron Coin = 1 yen
