Robes were traditional and something he prefered, in the English pureblood tradition. However, he'd spent enough time with his mother on the continent that the other way of doing things was comfortable enough if he must.
He wasn't hopeless on the ice, just out of practice. He had a natural sense of balance honed from the sports of his youth and his continued exercise regimens, which was a great help. Once he went for a few minutes, he found his center of balance and vowed to himself not to fall.
"All right," he agreed, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he glided onward. He watched her as she moved forward at a greater speed, grace and experience evident in the way she moved. It was, admittedly, a bit of a turn on, but then everything about her was.
She was beautiful as she went from a smooth forward motion to a graceful turn with only an apparent shift in weight. Nothing fancy, yet, but it let him know that she had much more skill than he'd ever given thought to.