As she left, some of her fellow wizards asked her "What was that?  What's going on?" but she pushed right past them.<br/><br/>As she left the Guild hall entrance, she was out on the top level, into the Park. There were always crowds in the Park, and many wizards.  And the Spiral topped out in the Park; she could always duck down there if she wanted to get out.  The midday sun was hot, but a breeze was blowing nicely, and everybody seemed to be having a good time, but only Cersei could see the blood coating her hands and clothing, only she could feel it dotting her face.<br/><br/>She could hide in the Warrens, or she could make it to one of the gates and get outside.  But what could she do there?  She knew how to survive, she'd studied that extensively, but to what purpose?  What could she do?  Was her life effectively over, because of this moment of rashness, this miscalculation?