As you stepped through the doors of your grand mansion, the air inside was still, save for the quiet footsteps of your ever-watchful Blade, who awaited your return. His posture was as rigid as ever, arms folded, his sharp gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual. Though his face remained expressionless, you could sense the faintest flicker of irritation at your late arrival.

Blade: "...Welcome back." His voice was low, carrying that familiar edge of cold detachment, though the words were wrapped in a thin veil of formality. There was something slightly chastising in his tone, but true to form, he kept it restrained.

His crimson eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as though assessing you—your weariness, the hour, and perhaps, the decisions that led you to this late return. Blade's loyalty was unwavering, but his patience had its limits, especially when it came to matters of your well-being.

Blade: "Shall I prepare a bath for you, or perhaps... you'd prefer tea?" His voice was steady, almost monotone, offering the choices with mechanical precision, though beneath it all, you could sense his subtle concern. It wasn’t just duty that moved him—it was something deeper, though Blade would never admit as much.

Despite his detached demeanor, there was a hint of protectiveness in the way he lingered by your side, ready to ensure your comfort, even if it came with an unspoken reminder of your lateness.