[center][h1][b][color=DAF6C7]Ríoghnach "Riona"[/color][/b][/h1][color=DAF6C7]Time:[/color] Night
[color=DAF6C7]Location:[/color] Damien Estate Front Entrance[/center]
Riona half-fell, half-tumbled out of the carriage with about as much grace as a drunk cow. Saved from an embarrassing introduction to the driveway only by Mr. Brisby’s work-roughened hands. “Steady on,” he murmured.

She wobbled upright, smoothed out her (well, technically her sister’s) beautiful, but frankly uncomfortable, dress with as much dignity as she could muster. So much for gliding in like a swan. At this rate, she’d be tripping over her own feet all night and leave the party more black and blue than when she arrived. [color=DAF6C7]“Thanks.”[/color]

“Are you sure you can manage on your own?” There was a pause, then, as if remembering himself and where they were, he added, “My lady.”

Keeping her voice quiet, Riona said, [color=DAF6C7]“No. These shoes are going to kill me.”[/color] She didn’t know how Via convinced her to wear stiletto death traps. [color=DAF6C7]“At least the last thing I see before I break my neck will be my legs looking damn good.”[/color]

“Please don’t die on us. I’d hate to tell everyone you were bested by heels.”

[color=DAF6C7]“If anyone laughs, make them wear these and see how long they last.”[/color] Riona adjusted her cat mask and fussed with her hair one last time. [color=DAF6C7]“What do you think? Will anyone recognize me?”[/color]

“I think you look beautiful.”

[color=DAF6C7]“So no chance of being recognized then.”[/color] She flashed a playful smirk at Mr. Brisby, who just shook his head, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. [color=DAF6C7]“I don’t plan to stay for the whole party, but if I’m not back in two hours, don’t wait up.”[/color]

Riona managed three steps up the stairs before the stilettos threatened mutiny again. [color=DAF6C7][i]Gods damn these heels.[/i][/color] The night was young, but her feet already ached for mercy.

[hider=TL;DR]Disguised, Riona arrives to the Damien estate.[/hider]