Lucy felt her eyes widen as she entered the immense room. She had thought the barge magnificent, but that was as nothing compared to the splendor of her surroundings. Not the least of which were her fellow courtiers, all dressed to the nines in their most extravagant costumes and masks, each one more spectacular than the last.

Lucy almost felt underdressed in her white gown with silver embroidery, although Anne had endeavored to fancy it up a bit with some additional embroidery over the past week, as Lucy could hardly hold a needle without injuring herself or losing the needle...her mother had suffered through ten needles lost in a single day before giving up on Lucy as a lost cause, at least as far as needlework was concerned. Lucy's blonde waves had been additionally curled slightly past their natural state, then secured behind her hood, although without any further braiding or pinning, they were allowed to shower freely over her shoulders beyond that. Her silver chain occupied its place of honor around her neck; though it seemed modest compared to some of the other exquisite jewelry she could see on other courtiers, she would not trade it for anything. Best of all was the mask, a simple affair in white, decorated with silver glitter and a few tiny diamonds. She nervously adjusted the mask, glancing around for any familiar faces before realizing that of course, she would not see any, because they were all concealed behind their own masks!

Well, at least this would be an opportunity for her to step out of her comfort zone and make some new acquaintances, possibly even new friends. She took a deep breath and plunged into the crowd.

Oh the joys, the revels, the dancers, the colours! All of them blended into a coloured flash, only visible when you focused on them. When you didn't, you would get lost in a sea full of people. It was funny how one could feel so alone, while in a room full of people. Part of the reason would be that the couples had migrated together and seemed to be attached, never venturing forth from each other. But the colours, they made up for lonliness, and everyone was so caught up in their own intrigues, nobody would notice a lone man.

Felipe was that lone man, wearing all black, his curly hair, messily sticking up everywhere, his black mask simple, and covering his face up to his nose, where it stopped. It was a simple mask, but it was embroidered with gold and tiny emeralds graced the sides of his eyes. His mind instantly wandered to his outfit, and what it implicated. Or rather, what it reminded him of. It would remind him of Shadowman and Lady of Light. And no, 'twas not a fairy tale.

Shadowman was the code name, Felipe had jokingly used for himself, when conversing with the bright, witty and undeniably beautiful Lady Lucy. She was his Lady of Light, and together they had escaped the Mirror Room and the suffocating courtiers. He smiled at the thought. Why speak of the devil! He spotted Lucy's familiar head of blonde hair, and he made his way through the crowd, towards her. Hopefully he wasn't going to be a giant fool of himself. As he approached her, he had lightly placed his arm beneath hers, so her hand rested in the crook of his arm. Immediately, he felt his arm being dropped, and indignant eyes staring at him.

Oh bugger. In his haste, he had grabbed another woman's arm. He winced as they parted ways, thankful they hadn't said anything. He turned, to find Lucy in front of him. He purposefully avoided looking at her face. He was almost absolutely sure she recognized him.

"Well, that was a fiasco."

Lucy had only just made her way into the mass of gracefully swaying bodies. She looked around at them, watching and wishing. She adored dancing; it was probably her favorite pastime next to singing. She was certainly looking forward eagerly to dancing tonight with anyone who would ask; yet she could not help but wish that someone else had been here with her...

But that was a foolish hope, and one she would do better not to encourage. He was not here, could not be here. No, it was the people who were here who she needed to be concentrating on tonight...this was her best chance for beginning new relationships and furthering those which were still in the beginning stages. She continued to gaze around the room, an encouraging smile on her face in the hope of showing any interested Lords that she, too, was interested.

After a moment, she heard a voice behind her, and turned to see a man standing before her. He was clad all in black, as were many of the men she had seen here tonight; she supposed this was because very few of them had the same cares in the area of fashion as did many of the ladies she had seen. But the advantage of their simplicity of dress was the much greater variety of masks which it allowed, as they were not then worried about matching the mask to the outfit, coordinating colors and all of those issues which consumed the ladies...including Lucy herself, she had to admit. She had been lucky to find the mask she had, particularly for such a reasonable price, but she was certainly glad of it.

The mask this particular man wore was simpler than many she had seen, which she appreciated, the gold embroidery and tiny green stones enhancing his hidden features far more than the other bedecked, befeathered monstrosities she had seen covering other faces. But as she looked more closely, there was something...familiar...about the dark eyes she could see behind the mask. And that voice...she definitely knew that voice. "A fiasco, my Lord?" she asked lightly, wondering if her suspicions were correct. "Pray tell, what do you mean? Surely you do not refer to this magnificent affair as a fiasco?" Her eyes glittered as she indicated their surroundings. If he were who she thought him, he would surely recognize the laughing tone of her voice, the same as she had so often used during their first meeting in the mirror room.

If this was indeed her Shadowman standing there, he had certainly dressed for the part in his all-black. And Lucy herself, now that she thought about it, her white and silver dress and mask definitely did correspond to her "alternate" identity as the Lady of Light, though that had not been intentional in the least. After all, they were not supposed to be able to recognize each other; that was the entire reason for the masks in the first place. But Lucy didn't mind; indeed, she hoped to learn that this was indeed him...it would be nice to have a friend amidst the crowd of masked strangers.

Felipe grinned. It was Lucy, he knew it was her, and the happiness at an ally, was clearly shown on his laughing face. When she asked if he was calling this bedecked and brightly clad affair a fiasco, he retraced his steps. "No no, I meant that I had mistaked another woman for my lady of light. That was the true fiasco, since she had been standing in front of my lady."

A bright smile was on his face. He was excited for the dances and he was excited for the night. It was later in the night though, and the night of revelry and happiness was slowing down, and Felipe hated that. He hated when things were winding down, which was why he tried to be the last person to leave, and the first person in, to make his experiances last longer and for him to feel infinately better. One night of merrymaking could take him through a week of work.

Work was harder than he had expected it to be. Ambassador, pshh. All you had to do, was pretty much be an inside spy, and report back to your king. Oh no, there was so much more. He had received letters for months, asking if he had finally gotten Marc to marry Isabella. Felipe had eventually stopped making excuses for it, and had just started ignoring the question, no doubt infuriating King Raoul. But whatever happened, Felipe knew that his time in the Sapphire Court would be good. He had enjoyed his time there, and he never wished to leave.

Though he missed his home in the Emerald Realm, he felt more at home in Sapphire than he had ever in Emerald. Though he had been good friends with Isabella, and it had been her that had thrown him into the radar, so he had gotten the job, the pain of being away from home had dulled considerably.

Lucy laughed in delight at her partner's witty comments. My lady of light...it WAS him! She could hardly contain her happiness at the realization. She had been almost certain, but could not be positive until he used the name that only he knew...the one to which she had told him she would respond only to him. "My Lord, I must admit I am hurt!" she said with a laugh which completely belied her words. "That you could mistake anyone else for myself...I suppose, however, that the masks we all wear must be considered a valid excuse for such an error."

She moved slightly closer to him, in order that they might better hear each other's words over the noise of the crowd and the melodic, rhythmic strains coming from the musicians in one corner of the room. "Although I am certain," she continued in a low voice, her eyes shining at him, "that I could never mistake anyone else for my dear Shadowman..."

Lucy wondered if Felipe (she sometimes called him so in her head, though she had not yet dared to use his first name to his face) would ask her to dance. She so loved to dance, and she would certainly consider the Ambassador her closest friend she had made in her short time at Court. She doubted that he would be offended if she were to ask him to dance instead of waiting like a proper lady...she had certainly made it quite clear in the Mirror Room that she was not the typical courtier...but she had a feeling that if it became common knowledge that she had done so, it might affect her reputation.

But suddenly she didn't care. She wanted to dance! And more, she wanted to dance with Felipe, wanted the opportunity to have a real conversation - unlike the shallow small talk she had exchanged with her previous partners - while engaged in the pastime she loved so. She took one more step toward him and leaned forward to whisper boldly, "Was my Lord intending to ask his Lady to dance?"