<div class="floatright">(https://www.duchamplondon.com/duchamp_blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/03/aiden-shaw-6.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>William<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Ballroom, Looking into the Banquet Hall<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Open, Countess Mina<br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Outfit</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/b7/26/e5/b726e50a805a2b3dc61a60b5b5d5ff2e--aiden-shaw-summer-campaign.jpg)</div></div><hr/><br/>William hadn’t really settled on what to think of all of the commotion, if that was the proper term for it. In part he could understand the need for such a theatrical performance given the time of year and how much modern people seemed to enjoy a good mystery. But that had never been his style and he was no sincerely doubting why he had bothered to attend such an event. A part of him really wished that such things might have been hinted at in the invite. It would have given him plenty of reason to send a kind letter in response and then to maybe find a chance in the coming weeks to invite the Countess for coffee or a light lunch.<br/><br/>He was just about to turn away and seek out someone for another glass of Scotch when he felt a curious and yet familiar presence closing in on him. Before he good turn his gaze back towards the approaching perhaps, the Countess’s voice hit his ears and stiffened slightly. The press of her hand certainly didn’t do much to lessen the tension. “Countess… “<br/><br/>Recovering from being momentarily caught off guard, he studied her for a moment. “I dare say it doesn’t seem that you are playing your part well in this little murder mystery of yours. Aren’t you supposed to be the grieving widow in this? Distraught over the apparently loss of her husband, panicked that the killer is still out there, lurking and watching? I thought that was how these were supposed to go? If that is not the case then what is the point of it all?”<br/><br/>He arched a brow behind his mask, confused by her comment about stepping outside when she had only recently mentioned that no one was to leave the house until the authorities arrived. Was that all for talk and show as well? Spotting the bar across the way, he lifted a hand to stop any explanation that might be coming forth from her. “I have neither mood nor patience for theatrics and games. Enjoy your evening and the rest of your party Countess.”<br/>Gently but firmly removing her hand from his chest, he stepped around her and moved off through the crowd, deciding that perhaps he would pull out a few bills and try to talk the man working the bar out of a whole bottle. Since he wasn’t getting to leave he might as well have something to improve his evening.<br/>