Imagine, you are the person behind a mask.
It is not uncommon, really, but imagine, it is extreme enough to lose words about. Hidden behind the fassade of a beautiful, gracious and at times slightly naive young lady lies the scheamer, the assassin.
Never yet has the time come for it to break out, never yet has it meant anything; but then again, never yet has the scheamer dared to take initiative and break the web of the mask.
Fearing to become one with your mask, it makes you roam around the castle in secret, half lady, half demon, never coming to any end, but endlessly playing at being able to break out at any moment, while it is far too late for that already.