[ Amused, he leads her out for a spin before pulling her back in toward himself—all talk of stepping on feet nonwithstanding, he is light on his. Footwork is indeed one of his best skills, a family style passed down for many, many years. What is swordsmanship, if not a kind of dance? Enough to pretend for long enough to dance with a gorgeous gal.

Her guess isn't a bad one. He laughs, a soft raspy noise colored with warmth. ]

Close. I do consider myself a man of duty.

[ A classy young lady like this—from the way she carries herself to the properness of her motions—gives him the sense that she is uppercrust. Unlikely to be all too pleased to find out she's dancing with a former convict and current fugitive of the Holy Empire. So that's a tidbit about himself he neglects to share for now. ]

I used to serve a lord. Now, I've been traveling with someone to pay my debt to them. [ he pauses, then corrects: ] Well. Before here. I haven't seen her at all in this resort.

[ He hums, giving her another up and down while moving into another step. ]

You, on the other hand... [ he drawls, and then arbitrarily chooses the utmost station for a lovely woman he can think of, ] Princess?