The world held its breath. The roar of the crowd, the flashing of the cameras, it all faded into a distant, muffled hum. There was only the dress, the lie it represented, and the truth I held in my hand.
Chloe’s eyes, wide with a mixture of genuine fear and calculated theatricality, darted from the silver point of my seam ripper to my face. “Security!” she shrieked, her voice cracking. “She has a weapon! Get her away from me!”
Arthur, jolted from his frozen stupor, reacted with raw, animal instinct. “Elara, don’t you dare!” he snarled, lunging forward, his hands reaching to shove me back. He was a cornered beast, all pretense of sophistication gone, ready to resort to brute force to protect the crumbling facade of his kingdom.
He never reached me.
A calm, immovable presence stepped bet
