Masquerade is something that this Duchess has become used to. Her only reason to enter the foray of bumbling oafs and pretentions is to make use of it as a wonderful distraction. As the harpsicord plucks a melody, the Duchess of Rouen finds her way into the Empress’s secret butterfly garden yet again. She’s captivated by the humble beginnings of the lavender-winged beauties. The flowers smell of the country and home. They nearly drown out the waltzing of the perfumed masses just beyond the door.
