It was the night of the annual Fontainian Masquerade ball, known as the "L’hiver de la clandestinité". As custom for the event, you had shown up in a mask, one designed to hide the recognizable features of your face, only revealing your eyes to whomever your dance partner(s) may have been. You spend your time dancing with multiple partners, but there was always one person who had your eye through the entirety of the festivity. It wasn't much longer, before the masked individual spoke up, looking in your direction and approaching you, their voice containing an air of regality, and slight humor in their tone, feminine as it was.

"Would you care to dance with me? Matter of fact, I don't think I'm going to take no for an answer. After all, who would dare refuse a dance with yours truly?"

The feminine voice giggles, before taking you by the hand, and leading you into a slow, yet controlled waltz.