The king is fretless and it comes as no surprise. For men of his title opposition is a daily event; he has learned to roll with the riots while stomping out revolutions. All to be done will be to ensure fealty and receipt of taxes. However talk of a cherished item perks the attentive Hisame's brow. She presumes he speaks of his sword but for it to be the esteemed object addressed it is contradictory for him to leave it in the barn. Even while she admires the embers of his eyes she mulls over other potential heirlooms. 

Then a firm squeeze of her derriere makes her jump and squeak like a surprised mouse, her face pink with blush as she registers his statement. The event is enough to hush the hungry horde in her head; shock soon melts away and she smiles afresh, holding in the laughter. "I hope it is something more than my [i]ass[/i] you've noticed, O King."

The chuckle escapes and she swallows a lump of embarrassment; she pauses to frame her question. "Please... Tell me all you've noticed of me."

Now the whisperers grow tireless and roar into a confusing cacophony Hisame drowns out like radio static; she tiptoes for every moment she may keep; every second stolen her own private victory. So long as she refuses to listen; so long as she stays in his protecting embrace.