Tiberius couldn't have finished her sentence; he was oblivious as to where she was leading, or why she'd cut off so abruptly. It was fair that she didn't know who the man had been given the masquerade feature of the evening, but why wouldn't she have given him as much detail as she could? Unless he was in an elaborate costume, things like his hair or skin color should have been evident, and at least an approximation of his age. If he reminded her of someone, that was the surest clue of all. If she wanted Tiberius to do something about the interlude, she ought to have shared it.

Unless... was it possible that she had encouraged him, before tonight? If she had only just parsed together his identity herself and realized it might prove incriminating, that might be a reason to withhold the information. Of course, the thought immediately ignited Tiberius' curiosity. Who was this shadowy figure whom his wife might be inclined to protect?

Tiberius reached one hand up and tipped Antigone's chin up, so that she would have to meet his eyes. For all the good it would do — he'd always been terrible at reading expressions and interpreting emotion. He could have used legilimency. He was sorely tempted, despite having resolved years ago not to use that particular skill against her. He rolled one corner of his lower lip between his teeth, considering.

---