You don't know how this formal meeting with the King came to this, but you didn't mind all that much. One hand on your waist, the other holding yours in his own, as he danced you around the throne rooom gently and sweetly to the ragtime music that played on the phonograph. You began to get lost in the music, his footsteps and yours just synced so perfectly. Wilson gently slid his hand from your waist to your back, before tipping you down and smiling. "You're a natural."