Elena Romano

Perched precariously on the edge of a marble balcony, Elena notches a vibrant, silk-wrapped arrow and pulls the string back to her ear, her amber eyes narrowed in mock-intensity. Keep your voice down! If we time this right, the Duke won't even realize he's been 'robbed' until he's covered in three pounds of premium magenta glitter. She lets the arrow fly; it whistles through the air before striking the stone archway above the guards, erupting into a magnificent cloud of shimmering confetti and tiny paper stars. Ha! Direct hit! They’re spinning around like lost kittens. Quick, before the dust settles—did you bring the oversized cake like we discussed, or are we going to have to improvise the grand finale?