The Auction Hall was a closed off section of a larger building. The main area consisted of a stage with a podium and several wooden chairs for an audience, with an aisle in the center wide enough for two people to walk through, similar to a temple's seating. Each audience member that wished to bid on anything, or in this case, any person, had to pay a fee in advance. Then employees handed them white, triangle shaped hand fans with bold black numbers painted on them. They were similar to a lady's folding fan.
The other audience members were only there to watch the auction. Sometimes, bidding wars took place, and sometimes tempers rose. It was considered to be quite entertaining to watch the wealthy compete over something, often overpaying for it simply out of pride and spite.
It was a cool morning when the auction began, and Danetta was waiting in a queue behind a thick green curtain. From her vantage point, she could see each person's profile as they stood on stage and had their services sold off. The auctioneer was a man with graying blond hair and a huge wart on his cheek. Danetta was pretty sure his name was Orvald.
When telling the audience of the person's service, and when telling them the starting price and minimum bidding increments, Orvald spoke normally. When it was time for the actual bidding, he spoke so rapidly that Danetta hardly understood him. Overall, the audience seemed quite polite and peaceful. She didn't hear any voices from them other than the occasional buzz of a whisper.
"And sold! To number three for one hundred and twenty six thousand Dakets!" Mr. Orvald banged a gavel onto his podium. "Two years of construction work from Mr. Bosco Yuler! Your contract with him will be drawn up after the auction is finished." He nodded to the Yuler person. "Please exit to your left and wait backstage."
At the front of the line, a young woman walked over to a space near the podium and bowed her head. The auctioneer looked at his stack of papers. Then he lifted them up and tapped them on the podium to straighten them, even though they had already seemed straight to Danetta.
"Here we have Miss Lillia Carton. She is highly skilled in embroidery and is exceptionally fast with stitching. She is selling one year of seamstress work. The starting bid is ten thousand Dakets. Minimum increment is one hundred. "
The audience was still calm. After a time, the woman's services were sold for forty thousand, eight hundred Dakets. The next person was a portly, but friendly looking man. He was selling three years of work as a personal cook. Ninety three thousand, six hundred Dakets was the ending price for him. He seemed quite pleased with the money. He was smiling as he left the stage.
Soon, a mother was selling off four years of her fourteen year old daughter's life to be a maid. The minimum age to have one's services just so happened to be fourteen. The price ended up being eighty one thousand, six hundred Dakets. Because the daughter was under the age of eighteen, the mother could only demand a quarter of the money, and that was only if the daughter consented. As for Danetta's case, being past eighteen, she could legally hand over all the money to her father and no judge would bat an eyelash.
Of course, it was soon Danetta's turn to walk onto the stage. Her best dress, her blue dress, had been crisply washed and starched. She had no shawl to cover her bosom. Her lips were slightly reddened by some low cost, yet effective, swatches of paper dyed red and then dampened to transfer their color. Similar papers with pale pink dyes had been rubbed onto her cheeks and nose for a just barely there blush of innocence. Part of her hair was combed down around her skull, held down with a plain net of white ribbons. The length of the hair was let loose, though, billowing out from the net in a pale cloud of curly light hair.
While she knew she was meant to keep her face up to entice the men in the audience, her eyes wanted a loophole. They pointed down to her pale, smooth hands that had been so lovingly soaked in cream so perfect it was hedonistic.
Beforehand, a catalog of the people's services had been passed out, telling the potential buyers what to expect. She knew that several men knew there as a wife for sale. They wouldn't be surprised, only curious. Some of the men might have brought their parents along to examine her.
A growing fever was humming throughout the audience. Danetta was unable to stomp down the conceit blooming in her heart, but she was able to keep it from showing on her face. Humility was prized in a wife. She knew that she shouldn't hold onto vanity for very long.
Orvald the auctioneer flipped a few pages underneath his stack, and then he began the introduction. "This is Miss Danetta Saivio, daughter of the widower Batren Saivio. She is offering herself as a wife. She has received a quality education, including but not limited to reading, writing, sewing, cross-stitching, dancing, playing the flute, and canvas painting."
Dancing? Flute? Painting? She blinked as she was reminded of the skills. Danetta actually forgot that she used to do such things. She was never so learned in such subjects that she would have considered herself to be a genius, but as she searched her brain for the old memories, her fingers jerked and fidgeted as they soaked in the long lost movements they were once accustomed to. Her recently polished fingernails tapped together. If Danetta were allowed, she would have moved her limbs in an attempt to regain the nearly forgotten hobbies.
The auctioneer was uncaring of her thoughts. He went on with his job. "She is to be examined by a physician in the Glass Temple immediately after she is purchased, and once she is shown to be in good physical health, she will be married right after, with the physician serving as a witness, along with her father, and any other person you might have brought with you. She will be a legally recognized wife, and divorce will not be permitted for one year."
She didn't know about the examination, or the temporary anti-divorce rule. Her eyelids closed for a few seconds. What if she ended up married to a cruel abuser?!
"The starting bid is twenty thousand Dakets," said the auctioneer. He then paused, and Danetta wasn't sure why. "Oh, Miss?"
"Hm?" Danetta turned to him and curtsied, but she didn't look up at him. "Yes, Sir?"
"Let me see your eyes, Miss."
Danetta looked up at his face for a few seconds. He walked away from the podium and stood over her with an inquisitive look on his face. Then he nodded and went back to his podium. He used a long pen to scribble something on his papers. "Her hair, as you can see, is long, curled, and light blonde. She is pale, of brief height, and her eyes are a color like blue, but also green. The starting bid is twenty thousand Dakets. Minimum increment is two hundred."
Danetta honestly thought that the starting bid was too high. A pretty wife was nice, but most men would rather have a wife with more to offer, like a bit of land or a royal title. Unfortunately, though, her father was desperate. She wondered if the bidding would last more than a minute.
"Twenty one thousand!" She didn't recognize the voice, but it sounded like an old woman's. Maybe a mother was trying to get her son to settle down?
Mr. Orvald called out, "Twenty one thousand! Can I have two hundred to that? Twenty one, two hundred? Twenty one, two hundred?"
"Aye, I'll take that!" That voice sounded like a rough old sailor. Being a sailor's wife wasn't a bad idea. A life near the docks might be amusing. She'd be able to see the ocean, smell the air she'd always imagine to be rich, and meet people from around the world with adventurous stories to tell. Her father had been to the docks often, but she had never been there.
"Twenty one, two! I have twenty one, two! Can I have twenty one, four?"
"Twenty one, six!" That was the old woman's voice.
"I have twenty one, six! Can I have twenty one, eight?"
"Thirty thousand!"
What?
