Sidismund frowns at you over his tankard, twisting it slightly as he ponders. "My fears?" He finally asks, hesitant for only a moment more before taking a great swig and slamming his tankard onto the table. "FINE THEN!" He bellows with the joy only a drunk can muster. "But next round is on you." He slides hurls his now empty container over the edge of your table and closes his eyes.
Right after the silence becomes awkward, he speaks. His voice timid enough that the blush on his cheeks might not just be from all the alcohol he's already had. "I had long hair once." He finally confides. "Braided, glorious, red. It was... Well, more of this!" He ruffles his own hair. "So you see how amazing it was. But then there was this one lass, crook who went by Stormlink. Name like that, we thought she was full of hot air. And she was, despite her tricks. Channeled Aether through chains somehow, to give them an electric charge. Thought I'd dodged her hail mary." He shakes his head dramatically. "Thrice-blasted chains caught in my braids. Ruined an otherwise clean operation to take down a self-aggran... Aggran... Aggrandizing fop!"
He looks to his empty hand questioningly, as if wondering where his tankard went, then shrugs and goes on, tone much subdued.
"Cut my hair the next day. Still haven't lived it down. Been afraid ever since. Long hair. Floppy clothes. Capes." He scoffs. "Pride cometh before the fall, and the fall is terrifying indeed."
EDIT: Okay maybe not so much irrational, as slightly over the top, but figured it'd qualify with how far he takes it, and how slim the odds are for it to be an actual issue.