Well, apparently he did have to wait a moment longer.
Come on, Missy. He cursed her name under his breath, despite the blame for the situation really falling on him. He needed to think something, anything, to get the attention off of her.
He also needed to get the hells out of there.
Well, two birds with one stone, he guessed.
Damien swiftly removed the intricate layers of his noble garb, revealing a more practical and stealthy ensemble beneath. The muted hues of dark fabric replaced the vibrant colors of his ornate clothing. Each piece shed was a step away from his aristocratic identity, and in the dim light, he emerged as a different man – one ready to create a distraction.
The final touch was the mask, concealing everything below his eyes, leaving only his piercing gaze exposed.
"Time for a diversion," he declared in his natural voice, devoid of the refined accent of an upright nobleman.
With a swift kick, he sent the door flying open, the echoing sound reverberating through the hallway and drawing the attention of several onlookers.
"You," he snapped, addressing Missendria. "You're next."
It was quite the theatrical performance, sure, but it was the best he could come up with on short notice.
As expected, before he could "attack" the woman, several guards and brave patrons inserted themselves between the two, prompting Damien to promptly turn on his heel and make his escape.
