The Masked Lady

The Greek maiden kept her eyes fixed on the figure of the man perched overhead. The assassin kept himself half-hidden behind a gargoyle that adorned the eaves of the western buttress. Looking around, the maiden assessed the situation. There was only one reason the killer was there, when he could be in the crowd and approach with a dagger discreetly at his target. And this reason is that he would kill someone inaccessible by ground.

An elite assassin would only be hired if something big was at stake. Alexa could place her bets.

Either it would be the Bride, in her glorious flowery seat in the float. Or it would be the Prince, now with his back to the murderer, on the platform under the main arch, surrounded by nobles and soldiers. Both were perfectly isolated from the population.