The Masquerade

She walked down the stairs, her hair done up into an up-do that let only a few long ringlets fall to frame her face, and a couple saphire pins held the entire thing in place. In her hands, she held a single black rose, twirling this way and that as she descended down the central staircase. Her mask was held in place by an unseen force, and the folds of her dress rippled with every step that brought her closer to the ball. Each step was graceful, almost as if she was walking on air.
Her head was bowed a bit as she gazed at the rose, her lashes obscuring her brilliant blue eyes. Slowly, she raised her gaze, holding the rose close to the bodice of her dress. As her eyes swept over the gathering of people, the light flashed on the silver ring that was worn on her left hand. She smiled as she saw the one she was looking for.
"You look dashing, love."
Whispered her voice in Maze's mind as she continued to descend. As soon as her black high-heeled shoes came in contact with the marbled floor at the bottom of the staircase, she paused, having eyes for only him. A sudden breeze lifted a few of the blue ringlets that hung free. Then, she let go of the rose, and it floated away to place itself in a vase that was on one of the tables that were stationary. Water instantly filled the vase, and she began walking forward, toward Maze. She smiled again,
"Should we begin the first dance?"