The frozen attacker shivered violently in the ice at my feet, eyes wide with fear. The courtyard was still a mess of panicked nobles and scrambling guards, yet somehow all attention had fallen on the three of us—me, Elias, and the idiot who chose the stupidest day imaginable to play terrorist.
Debris still littered the marble tiles from the explosion. A few overturned tables smoked weakly, and the scent of burnt silk and perfume clung to the air. Servants ran around with buckets, nobles sobbed dramatically into lace handkerchiefs, and several faint-hearted ladies lay sprawled on the ground like discarded dolls. The entire wedding had dissolved into chaos.
And at the center of it all, I stood in my ruined gown, hair slightly tousled from the shockwave, staring at a man I'd just frozen solid.
Nero, I spoke in my mind, steadying my breath. So this is the fan you were talking about?
[Yes, host. Ta-da. Dramatic reveal.]
