The basket remained held slightly forward, as though Avarine fully expected Circe to reach inside and take one. There was a softness about her, something gentle and unassuming that seemed to radiate outward without much effort.
Too carefully arranged, Circe thought.
The way Avarine was dressed only accentuated it. She wore pale colored fabrics, and dresses with modest cuts. Her jewelry was delicate. Nothing too sharp or gaudy. Youthful innocence clung to her like perfume.
She was soft-spoken, her voice soothing and melodic, the sort capable of lulling others into a false sense of security without them ever realizing they had let their guard down.
Circe did not reach for the basket.
She merely inclined her head in acknowledgment.
"Thank you for your generosity. I'm sure they taste wonderful," Circe said calmly, though there was little inflection in her voice. "You may hand them over to one of the maids inside."
It was clearly not the response Avarine had been anticipating.
