Dance time.

It isn't long before people are not only standing once again, but taking turns dancing with one another. It seems as if it isn't about bringing your guest specifically to the dance floor--many either came with nobody, family, or friends. A ball's dance is about trading partners and experiencing a whole new kind of mingling. Nobles move with the music, and stand intimately close, all while gaining knowledge of their friends and enemies. Some use it as a chance to scout for partners, either for themselves or for family. Others do it for fun, though not many. You imagine that if a noble were to come to one of these often, it would become dull quite quickly.

Eva stands beside you as you watch the dancers spin and weave. She seems to be fidgeting in place.

"Are you all right?" you ask.

"I've never danced with someone before."

"I can't say I'm an expert at all this myself."

"And do you think my dress looks okay?"

You eye her over. It's better than okay in your opinion. Your trail your gaze up her one bare leg, over the form-fitting fabric of her dress, and up to the window exposing a wide amount of cleavage. Once you return to her face, you can see it's turning pink. She lowers one hand down over her waist and rests the other across her breasts.

"S-Stop," she mutters, and then shyly looks to you with a smile.

You offer a hand. "You look great. And hey, it's less stressful for me then, if we're both rookies."

She looks up, surprised. Hardly a moment passes before she takes your hand, and starts tugging you towards the rest of the dancers. You then try your best to emulate what you know--one hand on her side, and the other on her shoulder. The two of you rock slowly with the rhythm of the music. She leans forward, and her rabbit ears tickle your face. You scrunch up your nose, and awkwardly try to pull back, though the fluffiness attack is relentless. Eva eventually notices this, and shyly pulls them away with a giggle.

"Sorry," she whispers.

"It's all right. At least they're soft."

She leans her head on your chest. "Soft?"

Once the music stops and the next begins anew, somebody approaches. It's Lady Lalarin Relestel. She offers a hand out towards you and asks, "May I have the next?"

Eva nods. "Of course, m'lady."

The bunnyfolk look towards one another, but Lalarin's smile is warm. "Don't fret. I assure you many men here are eager to dance with you. I won't steal him away for long."