I Only Summon Villainesses

The hallway we passed through first was lined with servants and soldiers along both sides, all bowing as we went.

Then we reached another door, where two horned servants pulled it open for us. What hit my eyes the moment it swung wide was gold. A vast wash of it, light first, the kind that overwhelms before you can brace for it. Then with a few blinks it cooled, and the room opened out before me.

Gold ruled in this hall. It clung to every surface, every carved dragon and curling beam, caught the light filtering through the high latticed ceiling and scattered it in molten fragments across the vast chamber. The air itself seemed heavier for it, as though wealth had weight and the room carried it like a burden of pride.

Rows upon rows of seats descended in perfect symmetry, carved from dark wood polished to a mirror sheen. They curved inward, embracing the central floor like an audience drawn toward an inevitable spectacle.

Every one of those seats was filled. Different people, different masks, and between them an endless variety of everything else, except one thing. The pressure that rolled off them was the same: distinct and stacked, each signature layered over the last, until the air itself felt crowded with it.

Lady Hue did not let us descend to the seating. She took the upper walkway instead, along the back of the hall, bypassing the main floor entirely. On the way, she pressed a mask into my hands: demonic, crimson and black, four fangs jutting in pairs, three crowns along the brow.

“Try not to look.”

I gave it a look of disgust first. The thing was ugly in a way that felt almost deliberate. But a glance at what I’d already seen seated below suggested that wearing something this ugly was still the more dignified option. I put it on.

As we moved along the upper floor, each section opened before us like a private box, high-walled, carved from the same dark stone, half-draped in shadow. This was where the real bidders sat. Not the ones you’d find on any guest list. Things I wasn’t sure I could put a name to were going to change hands here tonight.

“Lady Hue—”

A woman with a purple blindfold and dark purple hair flowing past her shoulders had turned toward us as we passed, and Lady Hue stopped.

The pressure coming off her was something else. Not the hard weight of combat strength or accumulated rank; it moved differently. Like it was flowing from the wrong direction: from somewhere ahead of now, bleeding back through what had already happened, pooling in the present.

Lady Hue lowered her head and said, her voice perfectly steady:

“Oracle.”

The woman reached out and caught Lady Hue’s hands, gently raising her back up.

“You can still call me Sorovia. You know that, right?”

Lady Hue chuckled, though the sound came out thin.

“My father would have my head. He’s a fool for religious uprightness.”

The Oracle laughed, barely. She raised one hand to her mouth and the sound disappeared behind it, so composed that her mouth never visibly widened.

“That’s right. Lord Beyhos is a very upright man, who doesn’t give a shit about us, by the way.”

“Language, Oracle.”

She composed herself immediately, her elegance returning like a tide.

“I let it slip whenever you’re around. It’s like a window of fresh air.”

Lady Hue smiled.

“It’s my honor but that doesn’t put me in such a great position, you know?.”

Then Lady Hue’s expression shifted.

“I didn’t expect you at the auction so soon. Is all well?”

The Oracle sighed, precisely.

“I initially thought I wouldn’t come. Then my Arch-Seers said those War-forged bone-heads are after something, and here I am.”

Lady Hue gave her a look.

“Or you wanted to escape your duties. There’s nothing you don’t already know. And please, language.”

She chuckled, the same controlled sound.

“I suppose. Is it that obvious…”

She trailed off.

I noticed she was looking past Lady Hue. I glanced back, half expecting someone behind me, but there was no one. She was looking at me.

’Huh? Why?’

She trembled. It was involuntary, sharp enough that she stepped back from it, and Lady Hue moved immediately, catching her by the arm.

“Sorovy, Sorovy, are you okay?”

Her attendants in purple robes and matching blindfolds surged toward her, but the Oracle raised one hand and they stilled. She straightened on her own. She was still looking at me.

Lady Hue turned, glanced at me, then leaned close to the Oracle’s ear and said something low. Through the blindfold, I saw the Oracle’s eyes go wide. She straightened further, said something quiet back, and then Lady Hue returned to my side and we kept walking.

“What was that about?”

“Do you know the Temple of Threads?”

“The second most populous religion after the Radiant Faith?”

“Yes. That is their Grand Oracle.”

I stopped walking. Both of my feet halted instantly.

Lady Hue said, without turning: “Don’t stop walking.”

I was moving again in the same breath of the moment.

“Wait, wait, for real?”

She kept walking, her expression one of total irrelevance.

“You are a Sovereign now. You should get used to atmospheres like this. Everyone here can sense that you’re strong, but if you react the way you just did, they’ll take it as an invitation.”

I nodded.

’Is she looking out for me? She’s actually really nice.’

Or maybe it was just because I was a Sovereign.

Something else occurred to me and I leaned toward her.

“Wait, could the top guy of the Radiant Faith be here too?”

Lady Hue paused a beat before answering.

“He stopped attending ten years ago. But he sends a stand-in.”

My eyes went wide behind the mask. Lucky that no one could see that. I’d walked in here thinking I understood what this place was.

I had not.

The Recimiras government built the Night Fall Order to tear this Auction down. I’d thought that was ambition, politics, the usual overreach of people who wanted to be the only power in the room. I was starting to understand it now.

This Auction was a freaking Heavens party.