With your legs crossed, covered by a long robe in silk, snug in your bed, with your jewelry making little noises, you look down – Keane kneeling in front of you, he gingerly places your pumps on your feet.

As he holds your hand, kissing between your fingers. Keane strokes your wrist, and stands up. "...And here it is, your majesty." He brushes the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear, your prulcritude was what fascinated him the most.