Primordial Villain With A Slave Harem

As we approach the inn where Ayame and I have been staying, the familiar sights and sounds of the bustling town come into view. The inn, a modest yet cozy building, stands at the end of a cobblestone street. Its ordinary sight brings us a sense of mundaneness that we desperately needed after the brutal events of the day.

We enter the inn, and the warm, inviting atmosphere immediately envelops us. The common room is filled with the smell of hearty stew and fresh bread, and a fire crackles merrily in the hearth. The innkeeper's wife, a kind woman named Martha, looks up from behind the bar and smiles as we walk in.

"Welcome back," she says cheerfully. "I see you've brought a new friend."

"Indeed." It would be customary to introduce her, but since I'm planning to kill her owner and make her mine without paying the taxes owed to the king, I don't think leaving such a trail behind would be a smart choice.

Martha catches on quickly. "Well, any friend of Quinlan and Ayame is welcome here. Make yourself at home, dear."

Blossom nods shyly, her tail swishing behind her as she takes in the cozy surroundings.

We make our way to a table in the diner, and Martha, always attentive, brings over three steaming plates of stew, fresh bread, and mugs of fresh water. The hearty aroma fills the room, and I can see Blossom's eyes light up at the sight of the food and then she begins visibly salivating. She is just too precious. Her stomach rumbles loudly, and she blushes, looking down in embarrassment.

"Don't worry," I say with a smile. "Dig in."

Blossom hesitates for only a moment before she begins to eat with fervor, as if she was worried that her plate might be taken away at any moment. She gobbles up the stew, her eyes sparkling with delight at the rich, savory taste. The bread disappears quickly as she sops up every last bit of the broth, and she drains her mug in one long gulp.

Ayame and I eat at a more leisurely pace, sharing a knowing glance as we watch Blossom devour her meal. It's clear that she hasn't been properly fed in a long time, and seeing her enjoy the food so much brings a warm feeling to my chest.

When Blossom finishes her plate, she looks up at me with wide, puppy eyes, her expression is a conflict of both gratitude and begging for seconds. Her stomach grumbles again, punctuating her silent request.

I can't help but laugh. "Martha, can we get another serving over here?"

She elderly woman who has been watching the scene with a smile, nods and hurries off to the kitchen. She returns shortly with another heaping plate of stew and more bread. Blossom's eyes widen with joy, and she digs in once again, her tail wagging happily behind her.

As we eat, I take a moment to appreciate the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with companions. The common room buzzes with the low hum of conversations and the clinking of utensils, a soothing backdrop to our dinner.

Blossom finishes her second serving just as eagerly as the first, her cheeks flushed with contentment. She leans back in her chair, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips. "Thank you, Master Quinlan. This was the best meal I've ever had."

"Don't mention it," I reply, ruffling her hair affectionately. "There's plenty more where that came from."

I then continue; "now then. Me and Ayame will take a short rest to recuperate our energy before we begin acting out the plan. Can you stay with us longer or is it better if you return for now?"

Her expression stiffens and her smile disappears. "Blossom should go back… If Master Ian thinks Blossom escaped and goes to the authorities we will all be in trouble. Blossom doesn't want to cause any more difficulties for her saviors."

"I see… Then, Blossom, do your best to bear with it. The multiple years-long nightmare will end in a few days." I say, my voice as reassuring as I can muster.

She nods. "A few days… Blossom can do it easily!"

Both me and Ayame smile seeing her lifted spirits. We escort her to the inn's entrance where we say our goodbyes. I go back to pay for the meal and then the two of us decide to visit a proper bath house instead of paying for the inn's water bucket and rag service.

The bathhouse is a luxurious building with a grand entrance made of polished wood and ornate carvings depicting serene scenes of nature. Inside, the air is filled with the gentle sound of trickling water and the soothing scent of lavender and eucalyptus. Warm light filters through paper lanterns, creating a calming ambiance.

The main attraction is a large, central bathing pool surrounded by smaller individual tubs. The water is kept clean and warm by an artifact- a shimmering crystal embedded in the floor, pulsing with a gentle blue light. This artifact purifies the water, ensuring it remains clear and at a perfect temperature.

Despite my best efforts to convince Ayame to join me in the mixed-gender bath, she remains steadfast in her refusal. Her cheeks flush with a hint of embarrassment, and she gives me a stern look once she sees that curious onlookers are watching the scene of me begging my slave on my knees to bathe with me with great amazement.

"Quinlan…!!! Stop it!" she hisses, crossing her arms in front of her delicate chest, signifying her undying resolve to not give in.

When I see that even my lost puppy eyes have no effect on this heartless harpy I finally give in and stand up, then I begin dusting off my knees.

After I get scolded for a few more minutes we part ways, Ayame heading to the women's section while I make my way to the mixed-gender bath. Naturally, I'm not going to go to the men-only bath.