Fresh powdering took all of twenty seconds, but Verie found the champagne a touch stronger than she anticipated, and she felt a bit warm. Since there was a door onto the colonnade near the ladies room, Verie ducked out and indulged in the cold winter air, then drew her communicator from her clutch and punched in a few keys. Travers, her onetime pilot-cum-friend-cum-property manager, responded to her query within thirty seconds, assuring her that all was in order at the building Avadreia had left to Verie and then giving her a bit of good-natured sass about her froo-froo dress and feather hat.
After telling Travers to take the rest of the week off, Verie switched off her comm and tucked it back into her bag. Feeling much more confident, not to mention a property-owning land heiress. It did wonders for her demeanor and she re-entered feeling refreshed and in control of herself. She retraced her steps to the bar but found that [member="Dissero"] had gone. She felt his presence nearby and followed the trail, passing clustered guests along the corridors. she paused in the doorway to the ballroom -- or at any rate, a ballroom -- and spotted him immediately, performing a rather strikingly proficient waltz with [member="Selka Ventus"], a woman that Verie did not recognize.
It seemed fairly obvious to Verie, however, that she was no stranger to her date. She lifted her mask and watched from afar, stepping out of the way of the entry and taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. After a moment of observation Verie disengaged herself and skirted the perimeter of the ballroom, once again being drawn toward the windows, deep in thought. She allowed herself several moments to consider what it was she felt.
Not jealousy, at least in the traditional sense. There was a certain pang of something, something like regret that there was such a large part of him that she didn't yet know, while she possessed so little mystery of her own. They were coming to this particular table with no pretense of equality. It was intimidating but not frightening; she loved him and it cost her nothing to say so, and she felt that would be enough... in the long term.
"Pardon me," said a voice behind her. Verie looked away from the windows overlooking the garden and saw a handsome older man, probably in his early forties, standing there. The music transitioned away from one waltz to another, slightly more uptempo. "It's rather a long shot, admittedly, but would you give me the next dance? Or don't you like the black bottom?"
Verie looked over his shoulder, unable to determine whether her date was sans partner. She looked back at the man and offered a smile. "Well, just keep me upright and we'll try to avoid it, hm?" She set her drink down on a nearby sideboard and then took up the train of her gown in one hand. It was rather a nice dance, Verie felt, for the gentleman turned out to be of Galidrani nobility and was good enough to lead the waltz. At the end of the dance, he brought her back to her perch by the window and complimented her steps. "I'm afraid I had an unfair advantage," she confessed, and told him about her former career. Apparently an avid connoisseur of culture, he showed a great interest in stories of the ballet.
Not long later, a tall blonde woman appeared to collect her date. The trio made small-talk for a few moments before he invited Verie to join them for canapes in the next room. Verie declined, shaking both their hands in succession, and said, "Thank you, but I've already promised to be an awkward third wheel for some other people. Very nice to meet you both."
