That meant nothing to him, as a measurement of time. He had not even been aware that the ballroom was changing colors, and he added that to his list of reasons he didn't really want to be here. How silly was that, having the whole ballroom change to go along with the drinks? Themes were one thing, but this seemed like a bit much. No wonder Zelda had commented on how hard it was to choose a dress to suit the occasion.

But it didn't really matter how long she'd been here, he supposed. He didn't even know why he'd asked, so there wasn't much point in trying to clarify. "Alright," he said, eyeing his glass dubiously as the dark green started to shift to a tepid yellow. The color of dandelions after they'd been trampled underfoot. No more appetizing than the green, really.

He thought maybe he ought to ask if she wanted to dance, except he knew she didn't. Zelda didn't like dancing, and she didn't like parties. They only went to parties to see each other and they only danced to steal a few seconds of conversation alone, and since he didn't see any hovering chaperones there wasn't much point in that. "Do you want to sit?" he asked instead, inclining his head vaguely towards one of the tables clinging to the edges of the ballroom.

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