The exit of Studio 4 was a gauntlet of flashing lights.
Since the release of the 8K "kiss" footage and the disaster at the Vale Estate, the paparazzi swarm had doubled in size. They weren't just looking for scandal anymore; they were looking for the Queen.
Aria stepped out of the security gates, her bandaged hands hidden deep in the pockets of her oversized coat. Ken walked beside her, using his shoulder to clear a path, but the microphones were thrust into her face like spears.
"Miss Vale! Miss Vale! Is it true you made your sister kneel on set?" "Aria! How is Mr. Sinclair recovering from his food poisoning?" "Are the wedding rumors true? When is the date?"
Aria stopped. She looked at the reporter who asked about the date—a young woman from a major tabloid.
"There is no date," Aria said, her voice clear and carrying over the shouting.
The crowd gasped. Was she announcing a breakup?
