It is only a moment. Something she still works through, something that is more difficult when she is sober and frustrated- something she does not enjoy having to explain. She shouldn't have to explain it because it should not be an issue. Contact is contact and there'd been a time not long ago when she'd been almost obnoxiously tactile.

But the moment passes and Detlef? Reminds kind. Does not ask.

The mischief earns him a faint smirk. "Clearly you were never trained by an Orlesian. If you cannot avoid both your partner's toes and that of everyone in the room without looking? You have not learned properly. I learned to dance blindfolded so as to not be distracted." Which had been distracting in and of itself, to be perfectly honest.

"...Detlef- it." She dips her head, faintly, not looking him in the eye. "It is not you. You have not overstepped. It's ghosts. Echos. Things I am trying to put to rest."

A glint of armor, a vice around her throat- but no. Not here. Not now. "You have not bothered me."