Elia entered with a small company of dancers as the music died away, replaced with drums and chimes. She was veiled and disguised as simply one of many, an old ruse but one did need to do something.
They spun and swayed as one, movements flowing with the ease of practice but the teasing winks and added fluorishes gave it a sense of playfulness, their veils hiding their identities while their movements invited. Step, hip drop, heel out and step... the patterns came from the signal of the lead dancer's hands and posture, and Elia's eyes moved in time with the music, catching the gazes of those she would flirt with but always she kept the leader's position in sight.
The drumming built to a crescendo, the dancers' movements all becoming a blurring tumult of enticement, desire, passion... and silence. Stillness. They all ended curled and bowed to the Sun. Or at least to a chair draped with the colors of House Martell. Applause and some very colorful praises rang out, mostly in male voices.
Elia rose as the others did, her heart pounding and flushed from the exertion. She unfastened her veil and took a goblet of wine from a passing servant. She raised it in brief acknowlegement to Daryon before looking more closely over her assembled guests. Oh, interesting. Tonight would be delightful.