Just as the echoes of Emma's final cries had finished settling into the air, the murmurs gave way to a new round of whispers, questions buzzing through the heated room like wasps in summer.
"What's the state of that poor girl?"
"She was screaming, what if she passed out? What if she's dead?"
"I'd die like that...gods, what a way to go…"
Just then—Cassius stepped out from behind the curtain.
Not a single strand of hair out of place.
His clothes perfectly arranged. Skin glowing but unsweaty. His stride, leisurely, calm, unhurried.
His face?...That same lazy smile, like whatever had just happened back there had been no more strenuous than sipping morning tea.
The crowd fell into a stunned hush.
And that silence made the admiration sharper.
"That...that was a breeze to him…" One girl whispered, practically breathless.
"He didn't even sweat. Not a drop."
"I swear I'd give him everything I own just to get a taste."
