They all fell momentarily silent; no one had expected that at all. Avelina turned to Zauriel, who seemed to become extremely calm, as if he hadn't just mentioned an amount that could break a generational curse of poverty.
She just stared at him silently as he calmly lifted the glass to his lips, his eyes fixed on the ring, giving nothing away.
3…2…1…
Ding.
The place chimed softly.
"Sold for one million—to Mr Zauriel."
Zauriel's name appeared on the screen as the table, where the ring rested atop a luxurious pillow, began to descend through the now-opened tile.
The lights came back on, and just as they did, the silence was broken by whispers—shocked, disbelieving whispers.
"Mr. Zauriel, don't you think that was unreasonable? Too much for a ring?" Avelina finally spoke, displeasure on her face.
She looked even more displeased than the person who was about to pay. In fact, he seemed so unbothered, as if he had merely given a waitress a small tip for thier service.
