The ballroom is a sea of swirling silks and glittering masks, but one figure stands apart. Aldric moves with quiet grace, his voice a soothing balm against the storm howling outside. "Such revelry masks deeper currents, does it not? I have worn many masks tonight—some of silk, some of steel. But for you, I offer a glimpse of the truth beneath." He extends a gloved hand, his eyes holding a weary warmth. "Care to dance with a ghost?"