I Refused To Be Reincarnated

"What meritorious deed are you talking about?" Adam leaned toward Eric and Desmond, knowing the father and son duo would most likely ignore him. Still, earning Prestige without trading was a novelty, and curiosity demanded an answer.

A sharp scrutiny from Eric answered his question, followed by a wave of his hand, as if he fanned pests away.

"Don't think I've forgotten your earlier little stunt." When he spoke, his fists tightened on his knees. "I'll know everything about you and your family once this auction ends. Every underhanded deal and crime they thought no one knew about will come to light. And once they do, I'll arrange a little trip to the other side of the sea just for you—the kind you'll never return from."

Adam rolled his eyes as the auctioneer's gavel thumped three times against his lectern. The bidding war for his final coat had finally ended, and the result—thirty million Prestige—made him forget about Eric's threats.

With just half his artifacts sold, he had earned the modest sum of a hundred and seventeen million before splitting with Robert and the auction house. He gazed at Eric, then shook his head, his sigh more mocking than genuine. Would the proud Marquis ever find sleep if he knew the teenager he dismissed with such contempt had surpassed his life achievement in less than two hours?

Probably not.

Chuckling, he picked Quintella up; she gazed at him with her bright pink eyes, a slight frown creasing her brows. "The venue is large, with plenty of empty seats."

He winked at her and went to sit further under Eric's bemused glare. Didn't that brat know the meaning of fear, or did his earlier explanation about rank not land? Either that, or Adam was deliberately trying to anger him again. And it worked.

Jaws tight and chest heaving, he hissed. "I'll see you begging on your knees after meeting the minstrels and contacting my enforcer friend."

Desmond twisted his lips beside him. That's not what he had wanted. A clean revenge, a public show in which he humiliated Adam. Not with resources, but with his skill in magic. Yet, he knew his father. There was no talking him out now that veins squirmed on his neck like serpents ready to lunge. Well, as long as he performed the impossible in college, he would surely prove that he was above Adam, and even the dukes and royal descendants.

The thought made him nod and brush Adam off mentally.

As Adam sat, he surprisingly had the same idea as Eric. The minstrels could answer all his questions, so why would he bother with an arrogant fool? In fact, the blonde man beside him wore a cape with patches that reflected the chandelier's light with more color than a rainbow, the mark of a minstrel.

With a bright grin, he leaned closer and whispered. "Would you mind answering a few of my questions while the auctioneer brings out the next artifact?"

The minstrel frowned, his lips twisting as he turned his head with exaggerated reluctance. "You'd better make it worth the interruption," he snarled, licking his thumb before leafing through a notebook. "Names first. Always."

"Adam," he answered simply. "I want to know about college—"

Before he could continue with his question, the minstrel cut him off.

"From House Laurentius Lux Aeterna?" The man sized Adam up, his eyes narrowed with the wariness of an experienced information broker. He snapped the notebook shut, turning back toward the stage. "I have nothing to tell you."

"Why?" Adam frowned. "If it's about payment, I have more than enough Prestige."

The minstrel raised a hand in a subtle warding gesture. "No particular reason. I just prefer to avoid you—all of us do."

Around them, the auction crowd's murmuring faded as the next artifact was unveiled, leaving their tense exchange in sudden isolation.

Adam's glare intensified like a brewing storm as the pieces clicked - they'd seen his work in Port Vaelora, recognised his craftsmanship. Yet instead of courting him, they fled. Why?

A drop of sweat traced the minstrel's temple despite the hall's chill air. Eventually, he spoke again. "We know. That's why you're no longer on our avoid list."

Adam tilted his head, eyes widening, while the man continued. "We don't just avoid you—we've moved you to the top of our new list. We won't provide you with information or answer questions about you." He stood, his patchwork cape swirling as he melted into the crowd before Adam could respond. Yet, his final words linger. "Reproduction of Leviathan and craft magus-ranked artifacts at sixteen. I don't know who tampered with the blood registry, but whoever you are, we won't be collateral damage."

Adam's breath caught in his throat, and, for a moment, the boisterous auction hall seemed to become deathly silent. Then, the auctioneer's thirsty voice, the nobles' bids, the buzzing of the magical gem set in the chandelier—all sounds crashed back into his racing mind.

They knew too much. Kill them? Impossible. Trust they wouldn't speak about him? The idea of being at their mercy didn't please him.

As he weighed his options, or rather, lack of, he felt a delicate warmth meet his right hand over the crumpled fabric of his pants. He gazed up, meeting Quintella's worried eyes.

"Are you ok, big brother?" She asked, her voice hesitant. "Did this man annoy you as well?"

For a moment, his lips tightened into a twisted line, the pang of his drumming heart reverberating against his ribs. Then, remembering his promise to offer her a life of happiness, he shook his head. "No," he forced a warm smile, but only managed a shaky one. "Big brother just committed a blunder because of Yann and his foolish ideas. But don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Quintella's gaze lingered on his twitching finger for a second. "I don't understand everything, but you want to know about college, right?" She snuggled against his chest, trying to comfort him with her warmth. "Can't you ask students less infuriating than that Desmond?"

"That's actually... true." His racing heart stilled with her efforts. Slowly, his hands relaxed, and his smile turned genuine. "Thank you." He ruffled her blonde hair. "I'll ask Robert to introduce a few students tomorrow."