Art's Return

This is no mere collage made of disparate materials but rather an interpretation of inspiration and a concept of constructivist ideals. Its creator started her career marked by striking innovation, yet she remained deeply underappreciated. Carlotta, however, recognized this "hidden gem," describing her work as "an impression of otherness with a hauntingly poetic touch." Now a celebrated installation artist in Ragunna, she crafted this fine piece as a unique token of gratitude for Carlotta's sponsorship and unwavering trust.

Executor's Handbag

A delicate handbag decorated with intricately carved gemstones, ideal for any formal occasion. They say a lady's bag is where her secrets hide, which is certainly true for Carlotta. The perfume bottle, for instance, is a grenade in disguise, while the glasses are special instruments displaying real-time locations and query results. Beyond their ornamental charm, these items are Carlotta's most reliable allies in her missions. In beauty, they adorn; in death, they unmake—perfectly suit their owner's needs.

Family's Creed

A pair of black gloves, their lustrous sheen reminiscent of the night, adorned with a gemstone bearing the same name as the wearer—Opal. Within the family, there are many unspoken rules, subtle and unnecessary to voice aloud. One such rule is this: those who wear black gloves must quietly resolve any “troubles” to serve the family’s needs. Yet, this is not a matter of compromise, but rather Carlotta’s own choice. The family has shown her the wider world, and now she will guide them into an even greater one—both in the name of the true Montelli and her own.

Stakes and Art

The night rain drummed the window and stirred up an odor of pungent liquor. Carlotta didn't like the smell, but she took comfort in that only those compelled by the strongest of desires would venture out in such weather, and such individuals were rarely subtle. A woman in worn yet carefully maintained clothing tried to appear nonchalant, but her eyes were fixated on the auctioneer's every move like a desperate gambler. A flamboyant man in the central foyer loudly expounded upon various art styles, unwilling to relinquish the attention he had attracted, all the while unaware that he had conflated several distinct schools of art. Finally, a boy lurked by a window, furtively glancing at Carlotta before catching himself and looking away—rather tactless, but by no means a problem. For Carlotta, this was a game whose outcome was hers to decide. This was not Carlotta's first auction. On stage under soft spotlight, the pieces came and went. Potential buyers murmured among themselves, forgoing discussions of artistic merit in favor of analyzing each work's price history. Creating art is a noble endeavor, but the business of art far less so. Here each transaction was a present wager on a future payoff. Even so, Carlotta still raised her placard for niche works that held little mainstream appeal. To her, these pieces were part of a grand strategy—whether a meaningless melange of shapes or a deconstructive expression of true artistry... time would reveal the answer, with returns far exceeding expectations. Such behavior was initially met with skepticism, but Carlotta's air of certainty soon began to sway the bidders and shape their choices. It seemed as though she had a strategy uniquely grounded in art theory, aesthetic sensibility, and market insight. Yet she was about to go one step further in search of greater heights. And then, the moment arrived, right then and there... In the final seconds of bidding, Carlotta raised her placard once more to the astonishment of onlookers. Seeing this, the flamboyant man instantly one-upped her bid. Countdown. Bid. Countdown. Bid... The auction rushed forward, each bid thicker and faster than the last, pushing everyone's emotions toward a suffocating crescendo. The woman in worn clothing widened her eyes in disbelief at the rising sums. The boy scarcely caught his breath as he whipped his head back and forth at the frenzy of activity. Just as the auctioneer's hammer was about to fall, Carlotta waved at her rival with a rueful smile. "How unexpected that there is another who recognizes the true worth of this painting. Your willingness to stake such a sum... It rightfully belongs to you." The event drew to a close, but Carlotta still had a few matters to settle. She watched the man leave with the painting before retreating into a quiet corner. The boy who had locked eyes with her earlier approached. "I let slip that Carlotta Montelli had her eyes set on a masterpiece. Just like you instructed, Miss." Carlotta smiled and gave the boy his reward. If he stayed agreeable, she wouldn't mind taking him into her confidence again, should she need him again for some future trivial task. As for the woman lingering nearby... "Miss Carlotta, I'm very grateful for all that you've done for me and my father. It's just... it's just..." The woman hesitated, searching for the right words. Carlotta didn't miss a beat. "No, the piece sold at a fair price. I used my methods, but your father's painting is indeed worth that much. Sometimes, people simply lack patience." Everyone got what they wanted. So did she. With that thought, Carlotta left the auction hall to disappear into the darkness and rain.