18 Are You Cold?

The wealthy man was not human. Ophelia could tell at first glance. He sat high in the balconies in a golden chair, surrounded by armed knights who appeared to be werewolves. She could barely see his features, for the chandelier lights blinded her the higher she looked, as if he was the Sun.

What caught Ophelia's attention was not the people around him. His appearance made her part her mouth. His features were breathtaking. He scrutinized her with an unreadable expression.

Was it humor on his face? Irritation? She couldn't tell. His full attention was on her. He rested on a golden chair reserved for the most important guest. Ophelia would know, she'd heard rumors of that seat always being empty, but still polished on the rare occasion he finally showed up.

"100 million gold coins, going o-once," the announcer stumbled over his words, his eyes shaking with the amount. That much money could purchase an entire kingdom! 

"T-twice… and sol—"