Mabil looked up at him when he asked for her name, her eyes gleaming with intelligence and giving nothing away about the turmoil storming inside of her. His voice and height, his build and confidence... Oh dear... If he was who she thought he might be, it gave her all the more cause not to speak. Even if this man wasn't the King's cousin, most Englishmen frowned on Scots, thinking them more barbaric and uncivilized than their English women. While some of it was true, Mabil was a blend of both, born Scot, partially raised English. Sometimes she could cover her accent, but there were some words that she just couldn't hide herself from. But maybe if she kept her sentences short he wouldn't notice. 

"Guess," it was only one word and softly spoken, so it glided on the swirling musical air like a breathy whisper, only just clear enough for him to make it out. He could not simply place her from just a single word. Couldn't he? He was a noble after all, who knew how many ladies he talked to on the daily. And she was a servant to the King. Most noble never took notice of simple servants, as long as they were quiet and obedient, like she usual was. A kind of idea dawned on her. Her stepsister, Grace, would be an acceptable dance partner for him. And even though her face and personality was not at all like Mabil's they were the same size and had similar hair color. If worse came to worse, she'd simply lie. Though... she would feel a bit worried for Grace. But the cost would not be so high, surely. If he tried for some reason to seek her out after the ball (now there was a laughable though), he'd call on Grace, and either realize Mabil had lied, or think Grace had been his partner. They were all masked after all.

Well, until the King took off his mask at least. But then Mabil would simply disappear into the background, steal away like many of the other hidden servants to change into more appropriate attire, and return as if nothing had ever happened. Her eyes cast a casual glance towards the King, like she were merely looking around her to shyly avoid her dance partner. His Highness was now dancing with with a lady all in black, gallantly dancing just as he had did with all ladies. Sometimes Mabil really did wonder if one man could truly enjoy all the flirtatious schemes of everyone around him. But as long as he was the center of attention, surely he didn't mind. Especially when two women were bold enough to press themselves so intimately together just to earn a simple gaze.

Which begged the question, was this man the same? She still wasn't quiet sure if he was who she thought he was, but were not most men like the King? Did they not all wish, in some way or another, to be the objection of affection and admiration above all others. Perhaps it would be unkind the call all men the King's equal in desires, for His Highness truly was magnificent in the area of desiring so much and expecting it all to be giving willingly. They gracefully turned and spun on the floor, one pair among twenty or more. The dim lighting made Mabil feel even more like this was something she wake up from. Even if she was a bit fearful of who was behind the mask, she was elated at being able to dance again. The servants had their own parties, but none of it was at all elegant or dream-like, like this. Servant celebrations, with permission of His Highness, often occurred in celebration of a well done ball or other such festivity they had worked. The music and dancing there was far more passionate and wild than the elegant swirling of a noble's ball. 

Mabil met the eyes that were behind that mask and she gave him one of her small, almost intelligently playful smiles. Mabil was obedient, loyal and reserved, but shame upon anyone who ever called her dull. She let people think what she wanted them to think and was a master at masking her true feelings. It was a talent acquired when a baron's step daughter was not only off Scottish blood, but looked nothing like her stepfather. Hold your true self close to your heart and guard it so you may never feel real pain. Though there were some who saw her true feelings, but only through actions and most of the time they were not even focused on her. 

Mabil spun contently with her partner holding her close. While it made her a bit nervous, she used her blush to her advantage, letting him see what he wished and hiding her anxiety. Let him guess till their dance ended. She would not so easily give him the information he desired, this unknown man. But she would enjoy him, his hands, his broad shoulders, his curious eyes, his amused mouth...