Oh how Tristan did love dances an balls. Especially big ones like this where everyone who was anyone came decked out in their finest. He felt as if he were out on some sort of safari... There were the eldery, long necked ostriches; the women quite out of her prime but who still wished they had their youth back. There were the plump hippoes and rhinoes whose skirt could not disguise their ample figures. There were the zebras; the girls who refused to separate until they seemed to mold into one girl... their stripes made them indecipherable. There were the gangly giraffes, the flighty gazelles, and of course the hold worthogs in their elegant suits still made their entrances. Yet he felt himself at that moment the lion; the king of all he perused, and he was most definitely on the hunt.


He had least dressed the part; Tristan Truax really did know how to take what the great Lord had so bountifully bestowed upon him and use it to his advantage. He was decked out in his finest, yet it was simplistic. His outfit did not contain technical embroidery, jewels, or anything flashy. He wanted all attention centered on himself rather than his clothes. Though really, how could one's eyes not be drawn to Tristan? He was tall and well endowed with broad shoulders and a strong jawline. His hair was ever-so tousled in a look that worked with his jaunty, youthful aura that seemed to ooze out of his every pore. He stood carefully to one side surveying the room, looking for someone or something to take his interest. He was new to the Adesian scene, but he was quite confident that he would not remain in anonymity for long. Not if he had any say in it.

Catalina was ecstatic. Her god-parents had finally let her out of Pemberton to come to the Coronation ball. She was allowed a new violet dress for the event, trimmed with gold lace. This was the first dress she ever had that wasn't so high-cut, and she was allowed to wear a Pemberton hood to match. Her mask was painted a shining gold, and there were dyed purple feathers to accent it. She wore her own dead mother's gold chain around her neck.
Catalina hadn't danced yet, though she had spun around herself a few times to admire her beautiful new dress. It was nothing to the dresses of the greater court ladies, but it was the most beautiful thing Catalina had ever owned.
In her ecstasy, Catalina spotted a handsome young man in simple clothes. She knew that her godmother would box her ears for it, but she wandered in his direction with an innocent look on her face. However, she could not hide her excitement in her walk.

Already Tristan's ears had been filled with one of the most beautiful noises he had ever heard; girls giggling and whispering to each other as they walked past. For he knew that the giggles were not sniggers, instead they were accompanied by admiring glances and wide eyed appreciation. Yet no one girl had yet to pique his interest, no one drew him like a moth to the flame, alight his senses in a way he was quite familiar with. Maybe the masks were not letting him get to the whole of who the girls were, and to be honest it was a bit aggravating. He stared slightly moodily through his dark green mask, which accented the greys and greens of his outfit until he spotted a younger girl heading in his general direction. Something about the purple, about the swirl of her skirt, caught his eye. So he decided to make his move.


"However did you knowthat violet is my favorite color?" he asked smoothly as he walked up next to her. A slight smile graced his features with his eyes dancing. He let his eyes wander across her whole form, not in a degrading manner but rather an appraising one. She had a prim little figure that he found pleasing to the eyes, though he would have liked to have taken a glimpse at the hair hidden behind the hood. He was a sucker for soft, shining, beautiful hair. Blondes were his favorite but he really was not all that picky.

Cat blushed, though her mask hid her face. "It is my favorite, not just yours," she replied. "Why then, might I ask, did you choose green for tonight?" Cat spoke with all the sincerity her godmother would've expected of her, though her godmother would be displeased that she would carry on a conversation with a stranger, who had never been formally introduced to her before. She looked through her mask into the stranger's eyes. She hoped that hers were dancing in the same manner, and they didn't make her look childish.

The sounds of girls giggling and muffled conversation rung in her ears. However, she was grateful for it, because it gave her something to concentrate on as she waited for a reply. She tilted her head to one side, like she had seen other court ladies do, with a questioning look. However, her girly thoughts crept back into her mind -is my dress wrinkled? Do I sound foolish? Is my mask crooked?-. However, being the ambitious girl she was, Cat pushed these thoughts back out of her mind.

Tristan grinned at her reply, glad to see that she had at least some sort of sense of humor, and intelligence enough to catch that he was joking. His eyes fell on her figure once again, trying to figure her out. She seemed young, he could tell by her voice and that innocent tilt to her head that she had not had too much experience in matters that Tristan Truax himself was quite an expert. Oh how he'd enjoy sullying that beautifully innocent creature in front of him. Or at least he expected he would; he'd have to see her with the mask off. But he had plenty of time for that, plenty of options for that, and so there was no use. For now he should simply enjoy himself, sharpening his flirtation skills.


"Well my dear, green symbolizes youth and the hope of eternal life... And those are two things that I very greatly appreciate," he responded quick as a wit. He really was smart for all his laziness; if he had applied himself to books or military strategy instead of chasing skirts, he could really have been quite accomplished. But he needn't be, his parents were duke and duchess of a part of Adesia located across the sea. He was rolling in the money and he knew it, and therefore the need for hard work had never occurred in his brain. [b]"But enough of this talk, I personally think that green and purple coordinate beautifully... would you like to dance?" he added, grinning a slightly crooked, rugged, cocky sort of grin. It was obnoxious but incredibly alluring at the same time. He held out his hand, quite confident in the fact that she would say yes.

"Well, I am youthful enough, though I can make no promises on living forever!" Cat laughed, giggled really. A girl like herself really didn't laugh, not in the full sense of the word, they merely giggled. Along with these giggles always came a grin, a real grin that was caused by true elation. So far, she felt that this stranger was a little overly self-confident, though she was obliged to think that it balanced out her own self-doubt. It was just as the masked man had said that green and purple made a fine combination.

Cat tried to hold strong, to play her way out of it, like her mother's diaries had advised. But that smile made Cat's barrier melt away like ice in the heat of summer. "But I would be honored to join you for a dance," she found herself adding in a graceful tone. She was more proud of herself for not making herself sound girly and childish. Instead, she thought she sounded older, and more resolute. She extended her own hand, which was adorned with no jewels, and placed it in his, ready to dance.

He was glad that his request had been honored and he nodded at her response. He then gently took her hand to lead her out to the dancefloor. As soon as he started to move his natural casual elegance would be quite apparent. It was a different sort of grace; it was not like that of a dancer's. Instead he seemed to move like some great predator, slightly slinking with muscles rippling with each movement. He was a sleek panther, a wolf walking in the moonlight. Those were the sort of things best associated with Tristan, and when they got to the dancefloor and he turned to face her he offered her yet again one of those slightly crooked up ruggedly attractive grins.


"Now is the time to see just what you are made of, Violet," he said, as he didn't know her name. Violet worked, it was the color of her dress and he would feel comfortable addressing her as so. It was then that he started to dance with her, keeping her at the respectable distance for strangers. He would slowly but surely test the waters though, moving her closer and closer inches at a time and see how her body reacted. A dance was a whole conversation of its own, an unsaid one, but nonetheless a person could learn a lot from it.

Cat giggled again, but did not have the wit to reply. The address of 'Violet' made no quarrel with her, it was suiting for the occasion. Being a masquerade, her identity was concealed by a mask, not that anyone here would've known her anyway. She would show her partner exactly what she was made of; passion and ambition, broiling in Lunan veins. In fact, she had been reminded on her ambitions when her led her onto the dancefloor. Perhaps she could utilize this most auspicious event in her life to canonize her rise from her utterly Lunan upbringing to become whom she wanted to be.


For the time being, however, Cat had to focus on being graceful. Being graceful wasn't a hard task. She had that Lunan grace in her veins that made her instinctivly a good dancer. She moved softly, cat-like with a simplicity to her steps that she had spent hours perfecting, when she should've been reading her Bible. When she felt herself moving closer and closer to her partner, she didn't resist, but enthused the movement. Her partner's skill was undeniably good, like her own, and she was glad of it. She wouldn't have herself looking foolish before the entire court.