The amphitheater was filled with rows of sharp-eyed nobles draped in expensive fabrics and embroidered silks. Circe felt their scorching stares as she struggled to catch her breath. She had never seen so many of them gathered in one place at a time. How many of them were like prince Hairan, how many of them betted against her survival?
At the very center of them was the queen. She cut a very striking figure in a deep red gown. The color contrasted perfectly against her pale skin, like blood upon snow.
There was no way of knowing if the queen had noticed her or not. A harsh shove sent Circe stumbling forward before she could entertain another thought.
" Move!" She heard Irah grumble behind her. Circe found her footing before she could topple over completely. She was still slightly out of breath from her encounter with Hairan so it took her a little longer to right herself. Once she did, she spun on Irah and shoved the woman hard enough to send her flailing.
