The crowd is loud, and my stomach begins to roil, my head spins. They cheer, but some faces look less than satisfied with me. Women in green grimace in disgust as if I’m a rotting carcass in their midst. Men dressed in red eye me with evident discomfort. Even our nobles dressed in blue appear vexed. My throat closes in; I’ve failed to make them all happy. He grabs my hand and squeezes. I squeeze back.