"Almost." When they hold still long enough, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife - and might yet be, before the night's end. Perhaps this is why no one seems inclined to hold still at all, skirts swirling on the dance-floor, various masked faces close together and whispering at its corners and in darker places. The Inquisition, with its spidered hands throughout the room, is still but one player of many tonight, and the push of fingers not their own will have consequences yet unforeseen.

It does make life a little bit more exciting.

"Do you think they haven't asked because they think you wouldn't, or because they think you would?"