It was déjà vu.
Olivera remembered that the first time she had entered the palace, that time with Raul though, Azeera had worn the same outfit like she was wearing now. There was a different colour combination now, but the same style still.
She remembered that Azeera had rushed up to Raul then and had muttered mundane things before slapping her. This time though, Olivera knew that she wouldn't be taking slaps from the slut, she was over them all.
And so not bothering to stop and think why Azeera had stopped talking and had turned aside to look at her, or to think on the hurt that sliced through her heart when Raul only spared her a nanosecond glance before returning his attention to Azeera, even going ahead to wrap his hands around her waist and dealing her lips with a deep kiss, Olivera stuck her head up high and walked in the direction of the stairs, hoping to the goddess that they won't call her back. She had no such luck.