April 23rd, 1891 - Minister's Masquerade (Arabian Nights)

It was hard to figure out a dress that worked for multiple themes even when she had a bit of a heads up, especially with Xena no longer living in the same house. Although they had never been close, Zelda had gotten used to having her sister's input on her outfits — especially for significant balls — and was sort of missing it today. She eventually settled on a marigold-and-green gown, with a feathered mask of the same colors. This ought to work — and if it didn't, what did it matter? The mask at least hid that she was stressed and tired and worried for Dio, worried about Alfred, and as long as she was here, tonight, none of those were problems she particularly had to think about. This was very possibly the first time Zelda had ever been relieved about a ball she had to go to.

And maybe she was a little tipsier than she ought to be, in only the second hour of the evening, with the vaguely Arabian music and the genie's lamps and the thematic decor and everything. But as long as no one could tell, then this was fine, and she could sip her mixed drink. And besides that, as long as she had a drink in hand the odds of anyone trying to get her onto the dance floor were low. This was also made even safer by her current position up on the mezzanine, resting her arms on the railing and looking over at the people dancing below.

She'd been there for several minutes when she became aware that she was being watched. (Although whether she was actually being watched for some amount of time or whether someone had just been looking at her for a few minutes — who was to say.) Zelda turned around and affixed a bright smile to her face. "Hello!"

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