"Really, Veronika?"

Earl Battenborough smiled behind his mask as he looked at Veronika as they danced together. Veronika wore a purple costume that distinguished itself in how it was a design you'd be expecting to see on a man: Pants, coat, somewhat of a regal fashion. On her face was an immaculate white porcelain mask forming a smirk and on her head, a golden laurel wreath. The earl continued.

"The whole Byzantine 'Born in the purple' and add to that a Gilded Laurel crown, how roman... then again it wouldn't surprise me if little people here were educated enough to appreciate these... inside jokes. Woe to me Veronika, for you must contemplate the hand of the king and refuse my love for thee."

Battenborough had been one of the first to open himself to Veronika when she first came. A well educated gentleman of little nobility that walked the court seeking favors from the king, get higher in the realm. He knew of Latin and thus was of great help when it came to learning English but he found himself seeking the love of her student. Both of them knew of this and of course, knew of the impossibility of this relation... to be official at least.

"If we were born as different people in another time perhaps, Sir Battenborough. And I hope you will forgive me for announcing my nature to the world so openly, for my accent is apparently quite noticeable no matter my costume, so I find refuge in audacity."

Some people looked at the strange dancers. It didn't help that Veronika was quite tall and Battenborough, not the tallest of man. In another situation the woman wearing pants would have been outrageous but no one would break the masquerade... at least not until the king did it first. Plus, the excuse of being a foreigner from a distant land excused almost any outlandish moves under the guise of being normal somewhere else in the world. As Veronika's eyes turned from her dance partner to scan the room and the location of the different people, she stopped on the king. The Earl sighed.

"But will that attract him? Perhaps something more conventional would have been in order?"

Veronika turned toward her dance partner, her facial expression inscrutable behind her mask.

"One seeking the attention of someone would be foolish to try and blend in the crowd... Plus my dear sir, you overestimate my desire to get married. What is the rush? What does England have that Rome would need? As long as at the end of the night I am the one to step in as the King's Consort, I did my mission here, no matter what time it takes."

Battenborough turned his gaze upward when she said 'Rome', comparing backward old Moscow to the empire of old. The Grand Prince Claimed the title but ultimately it was only a claim. The dance stopped and so did they.

"Another dance?"

Veronika left the earl's arm, walking away.

"Later..."

Veronika tried to follow the king with her eyes. Of course she couldn't just go up to him and ask him for a dance, if he accepted it would be humiliating for him considering she was in a man's clothes, no she had to attract the man into asking her to dance. The Princess bit her lip when she heard the music beginning again and saw the king with the Duchess of Oxford. No matter, this party wasn't over yet. Oh Earl Battenborough how pleasant but distracting you were. She saw the King's old dance partner and had a smirk. Well, fortune smiled to the bold, so perhaps it was time to be bold indeed. She approached the Countess from an angle as she was observing the ball. Veronika cleared her throat and politely bowed.

"My fair lady, if I may be so bold to ask you for a dance?"

The voice was meant to sound masculine but with the outrageous accent it left no one obvious to who the person was. Some turned around and giggled at the scene. Johanna wasn't the first one actually and Veronika had already danced with a few inebriated ladies who accepted to humor her (Veronika herself didn't touch wine in the entire evening, it clouded judgement). Still, it was one of thooooose situations where she was delighted to put a potential opponent on the scene, one where there was no real good choice, each sending a message to the court in a certain way.