For the first time, Cassio noticed Bianca, who was now cuddling up against him like a lonely kitten. It was rather odd that she should be here, in the company of Iago and one other soldier he did not know, but he decided to pay no mind to her at present. He did not push her away, however-it would surely hurt her feelings if he did.
"O, come, Iago," Cassio said good-naturedly with a smile to match. "Do not slander yourself so much; surely you do not think that there was no one who cared about your absence." His expression clouded over as he looked the man in the eye. "Emilia, particularly, was rather distraught, and it was for her sake that you were sought out." He paused, wordlessly imparting the severity of the circumstance with naught but the weight of his gaze.
"Sir, your wife wept, and weeps still, I warrant," he told Iago gravely, wondering if the ancient-if that was still his title-even cared. "I know not what cause she had for such response, but I do not think it was your intention to upset her thus. You ought to meet with her, posthaste, that you might soothe her spirits. My heart, and no doubt the general's, has broken for her distress, and I should hope that you, as her husband, have similar sentiments regarding her well-being."
"As for you," Cassio said presently, looking down at Bianca and chuckling at her misplaced eagerness, "I thank you for your willingness to assist, but your presence will not be necessary, sweet. Run along home and I will see you betimes." He patted her gently on the back.