Rosalind's POV

The woman who stopped me was taller than me and effortlessly beautiful like she had just stepped out of a capital magazine. She also seemed familiar like I had seen her somewhere.

She had brown hair done up in intricate braids that pulled her hair away from her face showing off her aristocratic features and glass-smooth skin.

Unlike the other brides-to-be that were here, she covered up her body. She wore a luxurious gown that looked expensive enough to buy at least three orphans in the districts. Her grey eyes were as cool as steel. And her nails dug into my arm.

And I don't understand what she...