Excessive -- it was the first word that entered Psyche's mind when she entered the room, eyes flickering over her surroundings and taking in the light. This room was excessive, this party was excessive, like so many of the things her husband did. It was opulent; she was rather stunned; her shy instincts told her to pull back, to pause. She skirted around the crowd, not examining them closely.
Truth to be told, Psyche didn't spend an inordinate amount of time preparing. She had arrived sooner that might be expected, but she drew back, feeling more like an awe-inspired guest than a hostess.
With her dainty, lacy lorgnette in hand, Psyche could almost pretend she was inconspicuous, though her appearance was too striking to be missed completely. With her crimson gown, her dark hair cascading in curls down her back, and her pale, moon-like skin, she did not exactly blend in with the shadows.
She knew she ought to be at the front of the room rather than quietly wandering about, but when she noticed Athena, she couldn't help but linger a bit longer.
"'Man is least himself when he talks in his own person,'" she murmured mysteriously, quoting Wilde with a grin. "'Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.'"
She moved her lorgnette aside. "Or throw a particularly stunning party."