After a moment of uncertainty, Duke Ruffino stands and makes a gesture that encompasses your troupe and Malodoro's staff in one flick of the wrist. "A dance," he proclaims.
"Everyone! Everyone!" laughs the giant Viscount as the tables and chairs are whisked away and the space cleared for a dance.
Timshel nods frantically to Joan and Gilbert, who (ever prepared) begin the opening strains of a moderate-paced reel. You join the rest of the company for a hasty conference. "Gad, 'tis nothing more frightening than a request," says the old fool.
"They'll be looking to us to lead this dance. I, for one, haven't a clue as to the particulars and plan to feign drunkenness." He wipes his hands over his face, then regards each of you in turn. "Do your bit; save yourselves; and, as you love me, do nothing to embarrass His Grace."
The look Timshel gives you makes it clear that even Lurkers are meant to participate in this festivity.
You hesitate as the well-lubricated nobles spill onto the stage. Is this a moment for shining your light brighter, or playing a supporting role to ensure the event concludes without incident? Should you prioritize the polish of the group, or exploit one final chance to exhibit your talents—or need there be any daylight between the two aims?