( your grace?. )
8th July, 1762.
Evening had come around all too quickly, and Serena was finding herself being dressed for dinner. Given the gowns she wore, it was essential for help with the corset and various skirts and petticoats, but the girls would get on her nerves most of the time. Clumsy little things they were, always bustling around too close to her and tripping over things. She would rid them from her room as soon as their use to her was up.
The last of her dressing were her jewels - perfect diamonds to complete her look, complimentary against her blonde hair. She was the Lady of the house, the head of her family now and had to look pristine at all times. It was all part of her mirage, her image she fought so hard everyday to maintain. Content she was ready, she stood, one last smirk in the mirror before she left to greet her guests.
Serena was pleasant to everyone she met, presenting the smiles and grace expected of her. However, although the guests did interest her, there was only one man she was truly interested in tonight - Solomon Rogue. Perhaps she wasn't so subtle, but she kept attention on looking for him at every given chance, continually checking for nearly three hours until, finally, he appeared. Straight away she excused herself, gliding out towards him.
"You're late." Was all she greeted him with before gently taking him by the elbow, free hand holding up her skirt as she tugged him out onto the balcony. "I told you to be here at nine. We have a job to do, remember?" she hurried in a hushed tone, eyes darting around when not looking at him.