Page 74 of Crowned In Venom

They are watching her closely now.

But Anya does not shrink.

She steps forward instead.

"Do you know why he kept me?" she asks, her voice like honey over glass.

The audience stills.

Anya smiles.

"He does not waste time on things without value."

Silence.

Then, the first offer comes.

"A hundred gold pieces."

Low. Testing.

Another voice.

"Two hundred."

The auctioneer straightens, his confidence returning.

But Anya does not wait for him to take control.

She turns to the crowd herself.

"And yet," she muses, "what use is gold, when it is influence you crave?"

Another murmur.

Her head tilts, her voice lowering just slightly, as if sharing a secret.

"Do you know what it is like to sit beside the Dark elf of the Underworld?" she asks.

My breath stills.

She does not look at me.

She does not have to.

She continues, stepping down from the stage, weaving through the men who moments ago would have thought her nothing.

"I have heard your names," she says softly.

I see the way some of them stiffen.

They do not like being recognized by a human.

But they do not correct her.

Because she is right.

She knows them.

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