Zoey nodded eagerly that she had enjoyed the factory, not wanting to talk with a mouthful of food. At the mention of some people disagreeing with the claim that his factory was one of the mightiest in the city, she almost choked on her food. She let out a soft half laugh at the remembrance of just how many times her father had said that very thing and cursed Quentin and his lineage. It was jealousy, she had suspected then and having seen the factory first hand she knew it for a certainty. The slave's green eyes lit up at the look of pride and happiness on his face and she hoped to one day see that when he spoke of her. It was an odd thing to hope for, but she truly did.<br/><br/>It was not more than a moment into his story that she had completely forgotten her meal and simply listened intently. She stared up at him and just basked in the actual conversation. It was a nice thing to see him so eager and it was nice that for that shining moment she was able to feel almost like a dinner guest, an equal. She did identify with his plight somewhat. Well, not any longer but at one point she had. A life of privilege did have its drawbacks. She had been expected to learn certain things, many of which she hated, she was expected to be proper and to marry a man of standing that she might despise as well and then rear his a herd of children. Along the way she would probably have to endure his indiscretions and abuse. In some ways her current situation seemed to be better. She had no real duties beyond obedience and it seemed that she had a knack for it. Realizing that she had let her mind wander, Zoey blushed and bit her lower lip. A slight nod was the only response that she could think to give to his pause and she took another bite of food as she tried to think of a way to continue the conversation.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>