Charisma 100: My Academy Life As A Heartbreaking Commoner-Chapter 171: Summer Auction 4

The Judgment Phase began with a ceremony.

Servants wheeled the offerings to the center of the hall, arranging them on tiered display stands. Cindergrave’s spirit stone pulsed rhythmically. Goldspire’s ancestral sword gleamed. The various paintings, weapons, and treasures from other houses filled out the collection.

And there, modest but elegant in their crystal holders, sat Aegis’s empty potion case—a reminder of what she’d given away.

The Master of Ceremonies stepped forward.

"Honored guests, you have witnessed this year’s offerings. Now begins the Judgment Phase, where we evaluate not merely the material worth of these contributions, but the spirit in which they were given."

Voting tokens activated throughout the room.

Aegis watched the lights bloom. Green and blue dominated—positive assessments, approval. Her gambit had worked better than she’d dared hope. The swing voters she’d targeted were glowing enthusiastically. Even some nobles she hadn’t approached seemed impressed.

But Cindergrave’s bloc burned red.

Not just red. Angry red. Bright, vindictive, making a statement.

[Expected. They’re not going down without a fight.]

The Master of Ceremonies began recording results, moving methodically through the offerings. Each presenter received their composite score—a combination of vote intensity and raw numbers.

Cindergrave’s spirit stone scored highest overall, unsurprisingly. But Aegis noticed something interesting: outside his own faction, enthusiasm was muted. The neutrals voted green, but dimly. Polite approval rather than genuine excitement.

Her own score was harder to read. Strong support from allies, hostile opposition from Cindergrave’s people, and a scattered mix from everyone else.

Then Lord Percival Whitbury stood.

The portly man who’d presented the battle painting earlier. One of Cindergrave’s most visible supporters. His token still glowed angry red.

"If I may address the assembly."

The Master of Ceremonies nodded.

"The floor recognizes Lord Whitbury."

Percival straightened his too-tight jacket, putting on an extremely punchable expression of concerned curiosity.

"While Lady Starcaller’s generosity is certainly noted, I find myself troubled by a peculiar coincidence." He paused for effect. "These very potions—or versions remarkably similar to them—flooded Rosevale’s market district just days ago. Sold for a fraction of the price Lady Starcaller claims they’re worth."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"One has to wonder," Percival continued, "whether someone orchestrated this situation deliberately. Spread other copies to generate conversation, then presented the ’authentic’ versions at the Auction to capitalize on the publicity."

The implication landed.

Aegis felt the room’s energy shift. Skeptical glances. Raised eyebrows. The goodwill she’d built was eroding in real-time.

[And there’s the play. Took you long enough.]

Cindergrave rose smoothly, all theatrical concern.

"Indeed, Lord Whitbury raises a valid point. One wonders about the integrity of a house that would stoop to such tactics." He shook his head sadly. "I had hoped Lady Starcaller’s rise represented genuine merit. But if she’s manufacturing scandals for attention..."

More murmurs. Darker ones.

Serilla tensed beside Aegis.

Aegis squeezed her wrist.

[I’ve got this.]

She stood.

The room fell silent. Some faces showed sympathy. Others showed suspicion. Cindergrave’s smirk was barely concealed.

"Lord Whitbury. Duke Cindergrave." Aegis’s voice carried clearly, calm and measured. "Thank you for raising this concern. Transparency is essential among nobility, after all."

She stepped forward, moving toward the center of the room.

"You’re correct that knockoff potions appeared in the market. You’re also correct that this was not coincidental." She paused. "But you’ve made one significant error in your reasoning."

Cindergrave’s eyes narrowed.

"I didn’t orchestrate the leak," Aegis continued. "I discovered it. Three days ago, I identified that one of my laborers had been paid to steal the formula and sell it to a competitor. A competitor who then flooded the market with inferior copies specifically timed to undermine my offering at this Auction."

The murmurs changed tenor. Confusion. Interest.

"I didn’t expose this publicly because I wanted to handle the matter with discretion. A betrayed servant is an embarrassment for any house, and I saw no need to air my difficulties before the nobility."

She turned, her gaze finding Cindergrave.

"But since Duke Cindergrave seems so concerned about integrity, perhaps we should discuss his role in this affair."

Cindergrave’s expression flickered.

"What are you implying, Lady Starcaller?"

"I’m not implying anything." Aegis smiled. "I’m stating directly: the ’competitor’ who purchased my stolen formula paid five hundred gold for it. That payment came from an intermediary with documented connections to House Cindergrave."

The room exploded.

Nobles turned to each other, voices overlapping. Some stood for a better view. The Master of Ceremonies called for order, but no one was listening.

Cindergrave went pale.

"That’s preposterous! You have no proof—"

"I have the testimony of the laborer who accepted the payment," Aegis cut in. "I have records of the intermediary’s movements. I have receipts from the alchemist who produced the knockoffs, who was remarkably forthcoming when questioned about his supplier."

She didn’t mention that the laborer was still feeding Cindergrave false information. Didn’t identify him by name. Protecting her asset while deploying his evidence.

[Can’t give away all my cards, after all.]

"Duke Cindergrave," Aegis said, her voice ringing through the chaos, "was so threatened by a commoner’s success that he resorted to industrial espionage. He paid to have my formula stolen. He funded the production of knockoffs. He orchestrated this entire sabotage—and then had the audacity to stand before this assembly and question my integrity."

"Lies!" Cindergrave’s composure cracked. "This is slander! You have no standing to—"

"I can vouch for Lady Starcaller’s claims."

Lady Cassandra Vermillion rose, her voice cutting through the noise.

"House Vermillion has conducted its own investigation into the market disruption. Our findings corroborate Lady Starcaller’s account. The trail leads directly to Cindergrave-affiliated interests."

The room went quiet.

Lady Roseheart stood as well, still clutching the potion Aegis had given her.

"Lady Starcaller saved my life at the beginning of this academic year. She has shown me nothing but honor and integrity. I believe her account completely."

Lord Hensworth, the old military commander, rose next.

"I’ve known Malcolm Cindergrave for forty years. I’ve also seen tactics like this before—on battlefields, where honor matters less than victory." His weathered face was hard. "This is beneath a Great House. Beneath any house."

[Holy shit. It’s actually working.]

The voting tokens began to shift.

Reds dimmed. Greens brightened. Even some of Cindergrave’s own faction looked uncertain, their lights flickering between colors as loyalty warred with embarrassment.

Cindergrave stood alone, face contorted with fury.

"This is a coordinated attack! A conspiracy by upstarts and their enablers to—"

"Duke Cindergrave." The Master of Ceremonies finally restored enough order to be heard. "Perhaps you would like to respond to these accusations with evidence of your own? The floor remains open."

Silence.

Cindergrave had no evidence. He had assumptions, implications, the weight of his reputation. But against documented testimony and corroborating investigations from two respected houses?

He had nothing.

"This isn’t over," he hissed, low enough that only those nearby could hear. His eyes locked onto Aegis. "You’ve made a powerful enemy today, girl."

Aegis met his gaze without flinching.

"I had a powerful enemy yesterday too. At least now everyone knows it."

She turned and walked back to her seat.

The crowd parted for her. Some nodded respect. Others whispered to each other, reassessing everything they’d assumed about the upstart commoner.

The voting tokens told the real story. Greens and blues dominated now. Her composite score climbed steadily as nobles revised their assessments.

Aegis sat down beside Serilla.

"Holy shit," Serilla breathed.

"Language."

"Fuck off." Serilla grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing hard. "That was incredible. You just publicly castrated a Great House patriarch."

"He castrated himself. I just provided the knife."

"God, I want to fuck you right now."

"We’re in public."

"I’m aware." Serilla’s thumb traced circles on Aegis’s palm. "It’s not stopping me from thinking about it."

"Think quieter," Aegis chuckled. "People are staring."

"Let them stare. They just watched my date destroy Duke Cindergrave. I’m allowed to be horny about it."

Aegis bit back a laugh.