The sudden, sound knock was so wholly unexpected that Bianca pricked herself with her needle, staining the shawl she had been embroidering with bright red drops of her own blood. Cursing roundly, she threw the sullied thing down in disgust, hoping that whoever might have had the audacity to call upon her in the middle of the day had good reason for doing so.

...Then again...perhaps it was that Michael Cassio, come to beg her services once more, as he had done all three nights of his deployment here. O, but he was a handsome one: tall and dark and gallant, kind and gentle and wonderfully adept with his tongue. Yes, he had done well in choosing her to be his favored one, for she could easily become accustomed to his caresses...she even thought that she could, perhaps, acclimate to the life of a lieutenant's wife. Enamored of her as he seemed, it was not so strange a guess.

Feeling a bubbling excitement overtake her earlier irritation, Bianca strode to the door with a new vigor, opening it wide and preparing Cassio's name on her tongue with relish...

...It was not Cassio. The man who stood outside her door now was one she had ne'er seen before. Slender and soft-looking and of middling height, with long, ostentatiously curled blonde locks and a beard so obviously false it was humorous... Well. He was certainly interesting, she would give him that...even if he did look rather like a lost, kicked little dog at that moment, all wide brown eyes and pouting mouth.

"Save you, signor," she said coyly, loving the way the Italian word rolled off her tongue. "What is it that brings you to my humble abode?"