I would trust you with my life, Hubert, just… perhaps not my hair.

[ A joke, as evidenced by the amusement in his eyes. The first part is true enough, and he knows that Hubert is respectful enough of his own preferences to not do anything as drastic as give him a haircut without permission. ]

Pardon my incredulity, but since when do you know how to braid hair?

[ Hubert doesn’t have enough hair to braid, and it strikes Ferdinand as an oddly frivolous skill for someone like his friend to have for no real reason. ]