Behind him, the courtyard descended into a clusterfuck circus that had caught fire.
"SHE BIT ANOTHER ONE! THAT'S THREE!" the wedding officiant yelled, chucking ceremonial composure into the nearest bush. Forty years on the job and finally one worth staying awake for.
The applause for River's magic went full degenerate. Hundreds of people started cheering the guards like this was a boxing match and not a sacred bonding ceremony that had been face-fucked followed by publicly assassinated.
An elderly Fae woman in the third row, who had kept her mouth shut in public for four decades like it was a vow of celibacy, cupped her hands and screamed "SWEEP THE LEG!" like she'd been edging that sentence since her mid-seventies.
Atlas knew full well he should call for order. He kept his expression stern. He remained silent. Just a king watching his royal guard take down a crazy bitch, and the crazy bitch was winning.
