After Blanc's meeting with Alfred was over, he was taken to a room that had been prepared for him.
All that awaited in this room was a bed, a chair, a table, and another door that led to a toilet.
The walls were lacking any decorations, with only a window made with colored glass as the only thing giving any personality.
It was quite a cozy room, something that Blanc enjoyed dearly, as it reminded him of his own room. Although as perfect as the room was for him, he felt like there was only one thing missing that would make this whole place better.
His wives.
It was a full week since he left, and the time apart was slowly getting to him. Not the nightly activities, not the fun they had, not even their conversations. Their presence would be enough to wash away that gnawing feeling in his chest.
But they were not there, and neither was he where they were.
So, to comfort himself, he prayed once for his wives' health and happiness, then he lay down in bed while watching the ceiling. He hoped to be taken by sleep for a few hours as he closed his eyes, but his wish soon vanished as a knock came at the door.
Blanc sighed, not getting up from the bed, "Who is it?"
"It's Zoe, my Lord," the woman outside the door said.
"Come in, Zoe," Blanc replied, still looking at the ceiling.
The wooden door screeched lightly as it opened, making way for Zoe to enter Blanc's room.
Once the door was closed, Blanc spoke again.
"So, what is it, Zoe?" he asked, as he raised himself into a sitting position.
Only to see Zoe now in proper clothes, placing down a tray filled with fruits, biscuits, and tea.
"Now you do look the part," Blanc chuckled as he looked at her.
"Th-thank you, my Lord," Zoe stuttered, "I have been given the honor to take care of you for the duration of your stay with us."
"Is that so?" Blanc asked, getting to his feet and walking towards Zoe and the table.
"If there is anything you need my assistance with, a-anything really, I would be honored to help," Zoe said as Blanc was getting closer and closer to her.
He said nothing for a few moments, now a foot or two away from her. A single droplet of sweat formed on Zoe's forehead, as she did not know what was about to happen.
Blanc stretched his hand downward.
Another sweat bead formed on her face, but she stood unmoving, ready for all the man in front of her had in store for her.
But the man in front of her only wanted the fruit basket.
And once he had it, he turned on his heel and jumped back straight into the bed.
"I appreciate Alfred's concern for my comfort, but I do not need help with anything at the moment," Blanc explained, wiping an apple on his shirt, "But I do also understand that it is now your job, regardless of me wanting it or not, so, Zoe, take a seat, pour yourself some tea, and perhaps start reading a book while I try to get some sleep, hm?"
Zoe's sweat vanished as if the sun evaporated it.
She felt like sighing, somewhat… no, definitely disappointed, as she hoped more would happen.
But she bowed either way, "As my Lord commands," and took the only seat at the table and poured herself some tea.
Blanc put the cleaned apple back into the basket, planning to eat it later, and once more closed his eyes, hoping for sleep.
He wasn't physically tired yet, but mentally, he was exhausted from the meeting with Alfred earlier.
And as much as that prayer for his wives' health and happiness comforted him, he hoped that if a dream came while he slept, it would show him their faces, their smiles, and grins.
By the Vita, nothing else would matter if all he had in front of his eyes were the two of them.
His Bronze and His Sapphire.
Zoe watched silently as Blanc drifted to sleep.
The man was handsome, no, more than that, even.
He was also a Noble Blood, a man whose entire body was chiseled by the Vita Herself.
And that title of Noble Blood carried more in this Empire than the gold of a merchant company ever would.
Even if he wasn't someone important in his Blood with no inheritance to his name, it really did not matter, as the blood in his veins was worth more than that.
As Blanc was dreaming, Zoe too found herself daydreaming about another life, and what that would look like for her. She was tempted, to say the least, but as tempted as she was to offer herself directly to him, or even worse, to just do it while he slept, she also knew one thing: if she was denied or caught, the man in front of her would rather kill her and pay reparations to her family than accept her.
With that terror in mind, she did not move from that chair and only watched as Blanc slept peacefully.
It was fascinating to see how Zoe's thoughts arranged themselves into the right answer. It was to the point that the result she came to was nothing less than the Vita intervening, making her see reason.
Unbeknownst to her, she was more than right.
As earlier, when Blanc sat back down into his bed, fruit basket in hand, with his free hand, he pulled the hidden knife he had without Zoe noticing, and held it hidden in the palm of his hand.
If Zoe had attempted anything, Blanc would have killed her.
Not out of hatred, for he understood the desperation, but out of safety, and out of concern for what such a thing would entail.
He wasn't dumb enough not to see Zoe, how she looked and talked to him, especially the attempt she made at a subtle message.
He did not deny the woman was pretty, but to attempt such a thing, at a man who, besides the Vita, venerated his wives, was madness.
A madness Zoe was unaware she had escaped.