He looks over at her when she laughs, because it is not a sound made common during the war, and it was not a sound ever made before. It makes him smile, warms him more than he had expected.

He had not expected it at all.

"I am not your king but you cannot laugh if I make a fool of myself." He smiles, then, his own smile, rare and rarer still to be seen outside the amusements that Sabr once offered him. His hand tightens on hers.