[ He’s used to having his hair free, often trailing after him in a fiery wave as he charges around the battlefield as well as the dancefloor. Since the thorns don’t catch in his hair itself and only tug the ribbon free, there isn’t much of a pause to give. ]

You said it yourself that you do not like dancing, yes? And here I have gotten you to do it not once, but twice. Now, if I can only get you to enjoy yourself instead of frowning at me so, then—

[ Then what? Who knows, because Ferdinand’s train of thought pretty swiftly jumps the rails when Hubert dips him of all things. Time seems to stop for a heartbeat, two heartbeats, his wide, honey-colored eyes locking onto Hubert’s – because he can see both his eyes for a change, pale and striking, with the usual shock of dark hair hanging away from his face. Color creeps onto his cheeks, unbidden, and for a treacherous second he wonders what would happen were he to lean up to meet his partner. ]

Ah. You surprised me.

[ No kidding. ]