Juliette/Siana - around 9pm
The best thing about this ball, as far as Juliette was concerned, were the masks. The white cat mask she wore only hid half her face, but it was enough for her to slip by relatively unnoticed. The gray and pink lace-trimmed dress which was supposed to make her look “delicate and ethereal” -- Lady Demiel’s words, not hers -- was instead almost plain compared to some of the outrageous costumes worn by other guests, and so long as she stayed a fair distance away from the dance floor, she thought she had a fair chance of blending into the wallpaper.
Not to mention, there were waiters in dark vests sprinkled among the guests, each with a tray his or her own, and while Lady Demiel could certainly watch how much Juliette helped herself to the buffet table, it was much harder to police the passed hors d’oeuvres.
A young woman came by just then, carrying a tray of what looked to be giant prawns resting in some sort of creamy sauce on elongated cucumber slices. Juliette reached for one just as someone else did; their hands bumped and she pulled hers away, feeling her cheeks flush scarlet under her mask.
Siana would not have made the effort to come seeing as how her entire family loved these sorts of events, but her sister had made an argument that had been too difficult to refuse. Besides, she was off duty tonight, despite her insistence that she was absolutely not required at the ball.
So Siana shelled out the gil for an elegant green dress and a simple mask to accompany it. She intended to come for appearances’ sake only and stay long enough that nobody could question her arrival, but distractions and interruptions had delayed her departure and now, given the sea of people between herself and the exit, she sought out sustenance to help her through the evening.
That was when her hand brushed against that of a young woman’s -- an adolescent’s. When their eyes locked, Siana took a moment to register the girl’s face so as not to offend a duchess’s niece or another; the last thing she wanted was to make was a scene. The mask gave her pause, and then it dawned on her.
“Squire Coulombe,” she said, astonished. She bowed her head slightly and withdrew her hand from the one they had both reached for, opting to take another one instead. “It is a… pleasure to see you.”
Fortunately, the young woman with the tray had paused. Juliette’s cheeks burned, but she took the coveted prawn after all, just so that she would go on her way. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Banes.” Her face was too striking to mistake, even under a mask. And, having followed Theo around these last weeks, Juliette had spotted the samurai here and there. She walked with purpose and had a hard set to her jaw, and Juliette wished to admire her, though she had been told on several occasions not to.
Still, there was no call to be rude. “I hope you have been well… cousin,” she said, dropping her eyes, her voice soft. A distant relation at best -- a third cousin of Lady Demiel’s, which made them something like fifth cousins thrice removed, but blood was important, in their circles, and the title thus apt.