ACT I - Storm & Quen
Clumsily, the squire fumbled through his program. "The Dying Sylph," he read out loud. "Danced by Antonina Zhzhyonov." Flipping back a few pages, he went on to familiarize Quen with the artist, "She's the prima ballerina from a country in Kerwon."
Storm had been trying to contain his nerves the whole night, but still his voice trembled as he spoke to Quenten. He had enjoyed their first date very much; Quenten was a lovely conversationalist with observations that never failed to strike him. However, he hadn't thought to do anything about it until Conan had pointed him in the right direction.
Unfortunately, it was proving to be a superficial victory at best. Storm couldn't help but think he'd been a failure in every other respect thus far; falling over himself both figuratively and literally. Even in the same dress she'd worn before, she was very pretty and very kind. He was barely keeping the red out of his ears.