The dramatic entrance was alwaays the best. After sneaking in early and wandering upstairs, beyond the Grand Staircase, I'd changed into full masqurade attire (black cape with gold lining, fastened with a small jade brooch, a prober doublet in green and gold, decorated with various medals, white leggings). My long black hair was pushed behind my ears and done up in many small braids, each decorated with small bells. I wore a smaall, brightly featherd mask covering half my face in an uneven line. The metal heels of my calf-high black leather boots clicked on the marble floor above the stairs. I even wore a completly useless (but highly decorative) rapier at my side, moving with me as it would with any swordsman of my caliber. I descended with a graceful, stately air that I'd picked up in the high society of Florence, not caring if the crowd observed me or not. Once I reached the dance floor, I made a sweeping, courtly bow and said in a deep, booming voice "Good evening, ladies, gentlemen."