Inside is…a soft, filmy dress.
I blanch when my callused fingers snag on the silky material. What am I supposed to do with this? It's pretty enough, the fabric of the sleeves soft and sheer and glimmering. It changes colors, like a rainbow on a timer, as I watch, going from blue to purple to red and cycling through the spectrum. It's…really nice. Is this a mistake? I put it on, and as the fabric slithers over me, I realize that the dress has no sleeves. It's a shift, and the entire thing is sheer. You can see my nipples and the dark patch between my thighs through the fabric.
Well…fuck. This is a trampy dress for a sexy pet, something I'm not. Something I've never been for Lord Sir.
That's…worrisome.
I wrap one of the coarse towels around the shimmery dress, hiding everything, and head back out to the housekeeper. She frowns at my wet, snarled hair and the towel I have wrapped around me. "Why am I supposed to wear this? Crulden's going to lose his mind."
She shakes her head as if I'm being difficult, and reaches for the towel. We tug-of-war over it for a moment, but when she glares at me, I reluctantly release it. "These are not my orders," she tells me. "It all comes from Lord Sir. You're not to go to Crulden. You're to go to Lord Sir and remain at his side like a good human slave." Her gaze flicks up and down over the dress, then she turns away, dismissing me. "Now, if you've finished with your tantrum, I have dozens of other slaves that need directing so we don't get the lash. Understand?"
I swallow hard. "Understood."
I cross my arms over my chest and head out of the slave quarters to find Lord Sir.
I do my best not to go outside, where Crulden's practicing out in the arena pit, no doubt waiting for me to return. I'm worried that he's going to lose his shit when I don't show up. I'm worried that he's no longer going to be compliant because they're going back on their agreement to let me stay with him, and he'll get himself killed.
I'm also worried about myself. This gown leaves nothing to the imagination. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck… I don't let my brain finish the statement. The only dick this “duck” is sucking is going to be Crulden's.
I'll stab Lord Sir in the gut before I let him touch me.
When I can't find Lord Sir in any of the connected compounds, I figure he must be in his personal quarters. That means crossing the practice yard in my skimpy outfit, and running into Crulden, who's going to lose his flipping mind. I swallow hard, take a deep breath, and then run my cuff under the door lock to go outside. I'll just have to talk to Crulden. Get him to understand that he can't flip his lid. That we need to play this next part calm and cool.
It's just for show, I tell myself. Hasn't Lord Sir indicated that before? Just for show. He's not interested in me. I'm a pet he can't get rid of, and he's going to show me off to someone else for…some reason.
I head outside, and the muggy air hits me like a slap to the face. It makes my filmy shift cling to my body and only adds to my embarrassment, especially when one or two of the a'ani guards stop in their tracks and stare at me in surprise. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I keep my head held high, even though water is dripping from my hair down my back, making the clingy material stick to my ass. Talk to Crulden, I pep talk myself. Get him to chill. Then see what Lord Sir is up to.
Easy. I can do this.
"MINA," a furious voice snarls, rising above the everyday sounds of practice. The courtyard goes quiet, and all eyes turn toward me.
I trot a little faster, heading for Crulden's usual practice pit.
He's there right now and shrugs off the trainer that tries to stop him. Crulden hops the low wall in a quick leap, storming toward me, his gaze on my body. Behind him, additional guards scramble to his side, and I hear the sound of a dozen shock-sticks arming. If Crulden tries anything, they're going to take him down.
I move to Crulden's side and he immediately pulls me against him, shielding my body with his bigger one. He snarls over his shoulder as I hunch against him. "NO ONE LOOK AT HER."
"It's okay," I say softly. His eyes are flaring with red, and I can tell he's inches from losing his shit.
"It's not okay. Why are you dressed like this? You don't like it." His nostrils flare, and he's bristling with anger. "I can tell you don't like it. And you used a different soap. You…you washed my scent off of you." He casts another angry look at the guards around us, angling his body so they can't look at mine. "What's going on?"