[Ha. Dazzled. Since when was Hubert ever dazzled by anything? He looks utterly amused by Ferdinand’s confidence, which is, again, unsurprising to him.
But he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even give warning before he’s counting the beats of two measures to judge when to begin— if Ferdinand means to impress him, after all, then there’s no need. The only preamble the man receives is the press of fingertips a little more deeply against him a whole half-second before he begins.
And what a start it is. The tempo is quick and dictates a quick step, and Hubert is practically sweeping his friend into the dance if he’s ill-prepared. Though these are skills that Hubert has not used in a very long time, he recalls them with clarity the same way he recalls tactics for the battlefield, and he deploys them rather the same way. Without hesitation, with clear efficacy festering behind a shadow of a grin. The melody of the piece suits him better, anyhow — no flourish of a ballroom waltz, no schmaltz and needless sway. Just a precise allegro to time each and every step to, leading with no leeway to allow someone to catch up. Either they do or they do not, and he takes them both across the courtyard, brushing past the roses, as they dance.
He finally remarks—] To think that you’ve wrung out two dances from me.
no subject
But he doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even give warning before he’s counting the beats of two measures to judge when to begin— if Ferdinand means to impress him, after all, then there’s no need. The only preamble the man receives is the press of fingertips a little more deeply against him a whole half-second before he begins.
And what a start it is. The tempo is quick and dictates a quick step, and Hubert is practically sweeping his friend into the dance if he’s ill-prepared. Though these are skills that Hubert has not used in a very long time, he recalls them with clarity the same way he recalls tactics for the battlefield, and he deploys them rather the same way. Without hesitation, with clear efficacy festering behind a shadow of a grin. The melody of the piece suits him better, anyhow — no flourish of a ballroom waltz, no schmaltz and needless sway. Just a precise allegro to time each and every step to, leading with no leeway to allow someone to catch up. Either they do or they do not, and he takes them both across the courtyard, brushing past the roses, as they dance.
He finally remarks—] To think that you’ve wrung out two dances from me.