"Did you pick that outfit yourself?" Haley asks, the tip of her manicured fingernail sitting between her teeth. She sizes you up with a nearly unreadable look in her eyes. "I can tell. No offense, of course."

She really means it this time. It's clearly your first Flower Dance, judging by the clothes you picked – they're very... you. Haley thinks it's a charming look, but she'll never admit that aloud, of course.

Aside from your fashion sense, Haley was considering other things. You had asked her to dance just a few seconds ago, and she didn't have the heart to answer your question outright.

The farmer's been nothing but nice to me, she thinks to herself, and they look like a lost puppy right now. It couldn't hurt.

"Oh well. I guess someone needs to show you how to do it. But don't let this get to your head, alright?" She takes your hand with a gentleness that she doesn't even notice. "I've been the Flower Queen for the last five years. I don't dance with just anyone."