Barnaby was never quite sure what to do with himself on certain calender dates. Every so often he would spend the day with the kind of disaffected youth that disdained such bourgeois conventions like holidays, but as they tended to bore him to tears within minutes, they didn't work so well to kill the time.

That said, he'd known some kind of festivity would be afoot in the manor, and he'd intended to slip out the door until it was safely over, but curiosity is a terrible affliction.

Peering in the ballroom, he thought he might have made a grave miscalculation somewhere. But now he'd made an appearance, and he'd have to be polite and hang around for a minute before he could flee again.

Barnaby sidled into the room in the opposite direction the other demon had gone, with a look of careful amiability on his face.