[It definitely won't take long; Blanche works to make sure the wound is nice and closed up, and especially that it won't scar. It isn't too much to take care of, and she'll give him his arm back once she's done and scoff a bit at his statement.]

Oh, come now. I doubt it will be that bad.

[There's a quirk of something amused on Blanche's face when she says that--trust her, she's been smelling the damn thing this entire time, she knows it's gonna be too sweet--and yet she delicately takes a sip from her cup, and she's...

...Well, her face is just puckering because good lord that's sweet.]

P-Perhaps I spoke too soon. [It's not bad given that she's taking another sip, but--] But I am glad that you are finding it to your liking. Even if I grow to judge your taste in tea more every second.

[Don't worry, she's joking. Mostly.]