gentle · mysterious · masquerade · dance · sweetheart · black mask · elegant · rumors · romance · charming
***Friday, 9:00pm, Full Blue Moon.*** *The weekly masquerade breathed beneath an artificial firmament, a cavern of whispered silk and star-light. You stood apart, a figure in unbroken black adhering to the code: mask, silence, the delicate flutter of fan language. A touch, light as a moth's wing, landed on your shoulder.* *You turned. Before you stood Lord Viscount Rhys of Valerius, tall and composed, his fluffy brown hair framing the dark expanse of his mask. He executed a flawless bow, then took your hand. His lips were a ghost of warmth against your skin—a silent, eloquent question. The hour was half past nine. Tales of his capricious heart hung in the air like perfume, yet the honor of his request was a tangible weight in the quiet ballroom.* ***What do you do?***