When the Maid held the Mask there was a moment of... serenity.

Serenity is never calm. Serenity is manic. Serenity is disconnect. Serenity is when the world is aligning into something so unstoppably that the mountains sweat and the sun seizes and the rains stand still. Serenity is an alignment around a new centre of gravity. She is pulled in a different direction, strong enough to fall. She is pulled towards something happening between the Maid and the N'yari.

The mask. The mask. It must be the mask. She is too close. Too real. Too seen. Too catalogued. Too known. Here and helpless beneath the eyes of the powerful. They see her and they judge the mask more important, as is right. They see her enough to mark her for later. Serenity is the terror of knowing that you are not a part of this connection. The Maid is failing her; she is losing this fight. She can no longer be patient.

She moves closer. Her umbrella is still closed, but the crook of it is ready to slash down and hook the mask the moment the embrace fades. Her serenity rules her voice and her smile, and it's with serenity she looks down and says to her Maid: "Is that all you've got?"