At 6 foot and perhaps an inch, and posture like a professional gymnast, Hannibal towered over Katherine. One hand's fingers entwined with hers and the other sat just above her hip. Opportunities to dance like this had come few and far between. That might have been a lie. There were plenty of opportunities at events on the island and such but Hannibal had little desire to dance with many of the women on the island. Dr. Cuddy had taken his liking and Ms Stackhouse, of course Abigail, but the others seemed entirely unworthy. Dancing was a meeting of minds as well as bodies.
A small grin creeped onto his face, his teeth not showing just yet, as he listened to her question. "To an extent." He looked down at her. "In some, there is something destined for greatness and destruction. What do you believe, Katherine?" Was she looking for a glimmer of hope that she could escape her father's madness? Madness was contagious, especially if it was already in your blood.