Yes, salve.. and you'll need plenty of it the night after the night after the night after the night after the night after our wedding night, when I'm through with you. Pay or no pay, I'm sick of plucking Smelly Egyptians. This could be just the ticket... for both of us.

I'm supposed to tell you why I will make the best wife without frightening you away? Hah! No Samurai-swordsman-cum-bawdy-bar-boy would be a-scared of my tools. Matter of fact, he would find them quite.... stimulating.

Impassioned pleas? Puh-leeeeeeeassse. The only passionate pleas to be heard from outside the door to our sweaty suite will be sung by you, as in,

"Mmmmmmmmorrrre.... plllleeeeaasse....... Mmmmmmmmmmorrrreeee!"

Sharpen my "calligraphy brush"? Horsefeathers... This aint no quaint li'l quill I'm sharpening.
Strut my stuff? Nah... But I can get to oiling your tired toiling tootsies.
Wiggle my hips? Bah! But I will wiggle my strigil.

(hover this, Lover)

There are so many health benefits to be reaped from choosing to meet the acceptable standards of proper Roman hygiene! *S*
And don't worry about Momma Samurai. She knows I've got what it takes to keep her boy in line. ;-)