The highest VIP chamber was steeped in silence, perched above the grand auditorium like a secluded altar overlooking a temple of ambition.
Alaric sat alone, the glass wall before him rendering the noble sea of velvet-draped guests and auction staff into a distant, hushed theatre of motion.
The soft hum of arcane lights, the occasional flourish of elegant laughter, and the muted rustle of silken robes created a dreamlike soundscape far below.
But Alaric heard none of it.
His thoughts roared louder than the crowd.
Before the auction began, he had told the girls:
"Do whatever you wish. Don't follow a script. Don't shackle yourselves to appearances or empty expectations.
If you're worried about reputation—don't be. In this world, reputation is just another servant of power. People will respect you only if you have it. Nothing else matters. So act freely."
