The crinkles by Rosalie's eyes became visible as she smiled at her husbands laughter. It was a small chuckle in which eventually had turned into a chorus of laughter from the two. "I'm nobody, just a swordsman who thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. A swordsman who selfishly requests a dance." Alistair managed to say once he seemed to have collected himself. Suddenly, he pulled her closer until his chest touched upon the front of her bosom, until Rosalie could easily make out the dashes of chestnut brown specks around his irises. She flustered just looking at them. "Well, this beautiful woman thinks not of selfishness if she would've wanted nothing more than to grant the swordsman dance."
At that, the two said nothing more as they pivoted across the dance floor in unison as music filled through the room; melodious and romantic all at once. Other dancer's walked onto the dance floor in pairs to join, but Rosalie paid no attention to them. It was Alistair who she gazed at. A man who she loved since the very first day she laid eyes on him, he, unlike Loras, held something that would forever be cherished. He loved her in a way no other has ever been loved; every kiss, every touch was...remarkable. He knew her by heart as she knew him. The two were, infact, inseparable whenever it came to each other. It's one of the littlest things that keeps there love for each other growing, and as Rosalie leaned her head against his chest and closed her eyes she felt tat very love growing stronger and stronger. Her heart was thumping faster than the steadying beat of the music for a second before the song had came to a stop at the same time she rose her head to meet eyes with him, and they watched his lips as they began moving to collide with hers. "I.." he was stammering, yet Rosalie waited for that wall to be broken. The wall that was bordering up their love. She wanted him to say, he wanted to say it, but instead he told her something else that was not what was expected.
"Thank you." At that he kissed her hand, bowed, and left without another word. She stood there alone as she stared before him like a fool until he got lost into the crowd. She didn't stop him and she certainly wasn't going to run after him as it was the second time he'd blown her off without given a reason to.
She released her mask and gawked at the elaborate piece glimmering and glistening in the light, and a wave of disgust waved over her. A disgust that a mask like that could ever so conceal a person's true identity, true expression in comparison to her husband. And looking around the room, everyone was strangers. Not a soul in the room was true because they were being hidden in disguise.
Lifting the hems of her dress, she eased her way through the horde, bumping, pushing, weaving her way away from false faces that surrounded around her. They were suffocating her and Rosalie was screaming for air. She headed for the grand staircase, taking one look at the collection of people dancing until her eyes met onto one person who hadn't been dancing, no, instead he was looking at her. She didn't know who was behind the mask, though somewhere in her chest told her that she knew that person, had seen them somewhere at least. However, she took one good look and left for her chamber.