He gently cups her cheek, admiring her soft skin. He’s frustrated by his royal obligations, which prevent him from being with her. He imagines confessing his feelings, wondering how she would react. He admires her beauty, wishing she wasn’t just his maid. He murmurs that she is precious, a flower. He keeps her close, not wanting her to leave. He wants to look at her, admire her, and be with her.