Proper had never really been in Alex's lexicon. His heart ran away with his head in most things -- his passions, the things that he believed in, his affections, they would always overrule his better sense -- and this would be no different.

He knew, from the minor crash course in ballroom dancing he'd had before some state function or another that he was going to be expected to attend, the basics of this sort of dance. He knew that he should set his hand lightly against Henry's shoulder, like that proper touch at his waist. And that's where his hand started, but it slide, as Alex stepped in that much closer, fingers tracing along Henry's shoulder, draping more than resting now, fingers tracing up the nape of his neck, touching just at the ends of soft blonde hair.

"Glad to know I've got a tactical use. I'm touched." Alex teased right back, wrinkling his nose at the prince, even if the effect was a little lessened by the mask he wore.