Aira stepped out into the corridor, the door clicking shut behind her with finality, only to meet the steady, unblinking gazes of the two guards stationed outside Zyren's chamber. Their heads dipped in a low bow, acknowledging her not as a guest but as something far more scandalous.
It didn't help that she felt the exact moment their gaze skipped past the collar on her neck down to the dress she wore with them not daring to go any further.
Her stomach churned.
Heat bloomed across her face, spreading down her neck in a flush that screamed of something she couldn't name. Embarrassment. Humiliation. Rage. All of it.
She took a step back, wobbling slightly on her still-weak legs. The corridor's light was dim, warm gold pooling on the velvet carpet that muffled her footsteps. Cold, intricate stone walls towered beside her, draped with embroidered tapestries of wars and kings and blood.
