Ofelia/Cian - early evening.
When Mr & Mrs D'Unienville sauntered into the ball, they looked a handsome pair together. The man had opted for a hawk mask, and so, with a cheerful little smile to herself as if it were a private joke, his 'wife' had followed in his footsteps and done the same. When they reached the butler taking names and invitations and announcing the arrivals at the door, it was almost as if they were passing a checkpoint, lungs and breaths held within tailored suits and dresses, before their infiltration passed muster. Lady D'Unienville handed over their invitation (and it looked identical to the others, rendered in a cursive flowing hand—so what difference did it make, then, if no one had ever heard of this pair, and only a couple nobles seemed to flicker recognition at the name of the distant Ordalian branch, reclusive and rare attendees to these Valendian events?). At the same time, Ofelia lightly looped her arm through Cian's, and Starling immediately started scanning the room for faces she recognised and others she didn't.
"Hm," she said, as soon as they were out of earshot and walking down the stairs. Coming from Fee, that one word was as much as a mutter of We made it.