Except for Signore Raven—Tarquin Belmonte. No, he’d thrown the allowable variation to the winds and had come here to shock. To arrive cloaked in death was to object. In his raven mask, black brocade doublet and trousers, and a feathered mourning cloak, he filled out couture well, and he had a lot of nerve showing up to a masquerade at the Palazzo dell’Ermacora dressed in funereal garb. As much nerve as a princess in a grotesque lion mask.
Have a feeling I'm going to like him too
