Re: [Outside the Masquerade]
"It is not this." Undertow. Damian released an arm about Misha's shoulders, so he might reach up, remove the crown, and deposit it upon the bed of gold that was Misha's hair in low light. The weight of it was not entirely negligible, but it was not so great as to be wholly unwieldy. With this done, Damian's arm returned, and he was pressed to Misha as if they were about to engage in such a dance as he and Dietre had done. "I am solid. You are solid. We are here, and we might dance, yes?" There was no music, but this did not matter. It was perhaps frivolous, but Damian did not care. And this dance, he would not lead. He placed a hand in Misha's, if he could, with the other remaining about his shoulder.