[Past] Accident, Murder, or Murdurr?

Ah, well the dead cannot provide repariations, my Lord. She was easy-going with the chancellor, and eventually that easy-going nature passed to the onlookers, who quietly dispersed to their activities once more. As if nobody had died.

His smile was met with one of her own, and she raised her gaze to meet his, even with the mask in place. I'm not dressed to tango, I'm afraid. A waltz will suffice.

No-one in the crowd would have the same name for the young woman; she'd introduced herself twelve times over with a new name everytime. She was a ghost, as far as society cared. The Calidus family did not have this daughter to their name. But she blended in, like a chameleon forcing itself into the environment.

I must inquire about something my father has written about, she mused, as she found the dance-floor. Perhaps after our dance. Her father had written her; informed her she was to leave whatever posts she'd been assigned, to return home to the Calidus household. An enigma, a shadow upon her memory that ceased to exist after she'd been sent to the military.