Briar and Julius - a few hours into the Masquerade
Her mother might not recognize her, true, but there was enough of her original that remaind to make it a face that Julius was still able to recognize. If he squinted. While he was still working on the puzzle she'd set before him--she insisted they'd crossed paths more times than he'd remembered, but of course she could be almost anyone in his past, so the digging through nearly two hundred years of memory was a precarious task--he now knew well enough to figure her out. At least when she was using a face that was a deviation from the original. He'd never forget that face. It wasn't every day a fae such as himself ran into a human (or at least, at the time she'd been human) with such a fae-like sense of mischief.
To be fair though, he didn't find her immediately, or even seek her out necessarily (though the mask he'd chosen was sort of an inside joke). Masquerades were kind of his thing. Everyone dressed to the nines--not that he needed an excuse to dress up--and in masks, which left a little room for mistaken identities and other kinds of trouble. Always a good time. There was also food to sample, drinks to imbibe and so on, and so forth. What else were parties for?
There reached a point in the evening, as there often does, when the heady atmosphere created by so much magic in one place became slightly overwhelming and he excused himself for a breath of fresh air (and some not fresh air, as the case happened to be). He was lighting up his cigarette (clove cigarette, naturally, as that was his favorite) when he noticed her on a bench just slightly down the path from where he was standing, squinted, and then smirked. "Well, well. Is this you hiding in plain sight?"