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He rarely bothered with these kinds of events, but as his mother had become increasingly weepy and annoying that he had not yet been matched with a suitable young woman, Rabastan had finally accepted the offer from the Puceys to escort Prisca. He had no plans to pursue her any further than what Rabastan usually obtained from women, but at least she was tolerable and not increasingly annoying by the second as were some people he was surrounded by, at work and in general. It did help that the woman was attractive, and probably one of the more sought after women in their circle of...appropriate ladies.

And, even then, Rabastan knew Prisca Pucey had a bit of a reputation.

He let her adjust his tie, not paying attention as his eyes scanned the party from behind his mask. He'd sardonically joked to Grayson earlier in the week that a skull-influenced mask would be slightly inappropriate.

"They call banging against a triangle music, these days," he drawled, finally looking down at her. Rabastan smirked, hand going to her elbow. "Is it all right, now?" though he knew it was.