Phillip shook his head at the next thunderclap, and then departed for his room and rest. He no longer had any wish to continue pondering the past or the future, nor debate on the present. 
____________________________________

Lucius chuckled as he stood to his feet.
[B]“You intrigue me, mi’lady. Your voice was haunting in melody, and-- forgive me for being bold, but I also could not help but notice you did not wish to mingle with the others in court.”[/B] Lucius noted. His brow then furrowed in curiosity. [B]“I wondered why that is. Becoming notable in court is so necessary that song alone will not do justice to your favour.”[/B] Lucius added. Mirabelle tilted her head once more.
[B]"Then I will have to manage that in my own time, for I am rather spent for tonight."[/B] Mirabelle replied. [B]"I thank you for your concern, my lord, but I am afraid I am still intent on getting a good night's rest earlier rather than later." [/B]Mirabelle went on. 

She then took a lady-like curtsey.
 [B]"Now, if you will excuse me..." [/B]She finished, signalling politely that she had no more to say to the baron. She gave him a moment, before turning away and heading towards her bedroom chamber, slipping through the door and closing it shut and locked tight behind her. 

She sighed softly, before putting down her lute gently on the end table beside her bed. She walked over to the water bowl on the pedestal nearby and washed her face clean, and wiped away all the cold droplets with a clean cloth. She took a deep breath, unclasping her shortsword belt before she slipped off her garments. She let her dress fall to the floor before picking it up carefully and hanging it over the dressing screen. She let her hair loose and took her sleeping gown out from her armoire without another thought. But then she saw her Nightingale gear hiding in the back of the cupboard.

Nobody else but her could possibly see it. Perhaps the Elven Court Mage, or someone else who was versed in illusion magic of a Nightingale's calibre, but anyone else would have only seen another outfit. It resided in the armoire, waiting to be donned, as if begging for the darkness within Mirabelle to be unleashed that night. 

Mirabelle's lips parted for a moment, as thoughts finally came to mind after a long while. She realized how empty she had been ever since she came to court, how thoughts never plagued her in court or stained her countenance in the midst of her fellow courtiers and in the eyes of the king with his advisor. Mirabelle's eyes trailed away from her Nightingale gear, as she wondered about why she had come, and what she had to do. 

She finally sighed once more, putting back the dressing gown and taking out the Nightingale gear. She spent the next few minutes equipping the true outfit of her very-real profession, pulling tight the straps to her gauntlets and boots, and clipping up her cuirass. Her bandolier was slung and her quiver was fastened securely to it. Mirabelle tied back her hair once more and then tied up her mask over her nose and mouth, before sweeping the cloak over her head and shoulders and fastening the clasp at her neck. She finally put her hood up to finish, and then slung her Nightingale bow over her shoulder. The illusion was dispelled from her steel shortsword as she took the belt back and fastened it at her waist once again. Mirabelle then looked in the mirror to see it all.

What stared back at her was a ghost from the past. The last time she saw such an apparition, she held such identity and faith in it. But now that she looked back, Mirabelle found that her identity and faith... Were both misplaced. 

She shook her head at the apparition, and turned away in disgust. The Nightingale then blew out all the candles that lit the room, one by one, as she would normally if she was retiring to bed. But there was no sleep for her yet, only feigned retiring for the night, so that then she would find what she came for. Once her room was plunged into darkness, Mirabelle found a way out of her room that would leave her door locked tight, and made her inconspicuous departure via the window.