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[Rabastan]
What a bore. They had been there for near-on a half hour and she hadn't spotted even one scandalous couple or moment between guests that she could mock, mock, mock until the entire ballroom knew that so-and-so had stolen what's-her-face's date. She hadn't spotted Aland or even Vivica for that matter. Surely they were amidst all the feathers and lace or would be soon.

But the disappointment never once crossed the debutante's face. She was well-practiced in masking her true thoughts and intentions--though tonight was a little more literal than most. A conceited smile seemed to pull permanently on her painted cherry-red lips. Her right arm stayed loosely looped on her suitor's and finely polished nails tapped lightly on the sleeve of his dress robes. There was a dry martini in the fingers of her left hand which she occasionally sipped from.

Getting intoxicated was entirely out of the question. Tonight she was expected to represent the nobility of her father's name and Prisca was not about to disappoint within the first hour of their arrival.

With a sigh she let her arm fall from Rabastan's and sat her drink on a nearby table. Turning back to her date, Prisca put her back to the dance floor and brushed up against him--careful to not swipe his face with the feathers of her mask.

"This music is bloody awful," she told him quietly and gave a disgruntled role of her eyes. The false smile reappeared as she fussed with straightening his already straightened bow-tie.