Meg jerks her head toward the private stairs. “Go up. They’ll brief you.”
“They?” I repeat.
Meg gives me a look and shrugs. “You’ll see.”
Miriam squeezes my arm. “You’re gonna be okay. Just don’t mouth off tonight.”
I snort. “No promises.”
Her laugh is nervous, and she gives me that knowing look, telling me to behave and not to get myself into trouble.
I head toward the private staircase, my pulse picking up with each step.
The farther up I go, the quieter it gets. The music fades. The air cools. The walls feel thicker, like they’re holding secrets. It’s quite eerie.
At the top, I step into the private area and immediately feel eyes on me.
A lot of eyes.
There’s a slew of workers up here, all polished and beautiful. Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Clothing that hugs their curves and exposes far more skin than I’d ever be comfortable showing.
They’re all staring at me like I wandered in off the street.
Some don’t bother hiding it.
Jealousy.
Disgust.
Curiosity.
Something sharper, like they’d tear me apart if it meant Orpheus would look their way.
I straighten my shoulders and keep walking.
I’m not impressed.
Not by them. Not by their stares. Not by the fact that they think I don’t belong.
I don’t. But I won’t shrink for them. I refuse to let anyone else’s thoughts about me deter me from doing what I need.
One attendant steps forward, blocking my path. She’s tall, eyes glittering, lips glossy, her scent heavy and sweet.
“You’re the one,” she says.
“The one what?” I ask.
“The one he requested.”
I meet her gaze. “Looks like it.”
Her smile sharpens. “Don’t get comfortable.”
I don’t smile back. “Wasn’t planning to.”
She steps aside.
I keep moving until I reach Orpheus’s door.
