No—I won’t think about that! I try to push the awful mental images away and go back to looking at dresses.
“I am not wearing that,” I murmur, sliding one scandalously low-cut velvet dress aside. “Or that, or that…or that.” As one after another, I go through them. Lucian must think I’m an exhibitionist, wanting to dress me in some of these!
That thought makes me remember the scene at the Lust Gates of the Carnal Bazaar, which makes me blush.
“Nope, not thinking about that either,” I mutter to myself.
I keep looking, going through dress after dress.
And then—at last—I find it. It’s a dress tucked slightly off to one side, almost hiding.
It’s still elegant, but quieter. Deep wine-red silk with a softly draped neckline—not plunging to my navel—just deep enough to show a little cleavage and look flattering. The sleeves are long and fitted, the skirt skimming my hips and thighs instead of clinging like it wants to start a scandal. The waist is gently tailored, highlighting my curves without squeezing me into submission.
“Okay. I can work with this,” I say as I pull the dress free…and then I notice something else—a drawer that was hidden by the fabric of the dress’s skirt.
It’s built into the wardrobe, low and unobtrusive. I open it—and give a little exclamation of excitement.
Underwear! And also, bras! Just what I was looking for yesterday. I had almost resigned myself to just going commando everywhere while I’m here in the Shadow Realm. But look at all these cute and sexy undies! All just for me. Neatly folded, organized by color and size, and they’re all mine.
Also, they fit like they were made for me. I know, because I try on a few sets. There are some sexy, lacy bras but also full-coverage ones with good support. There are silk panties but also some soft cotton ones—even a few pairs of granny panties, which is what I’ll probably be wearing as soon as my period really starts. I see some lacy ones too, but no thongs, thank goodness. And everything in my size.
I stare at the drawer for a long moment. I’ve always loved pretty underwear—does Lucian know that about me?
He planned this—all of it. He even took the time to find out my sizes.
The realization lands with a strange mix of unease and reluctant gratitude.
“I don’t know whether to be flattered or terrified,” I mutter to myself, choosing a sensible bra and underwear. I put them on and then turn to the dress.
The fabric slides over my skin smoothly and it settles into place like it was made for me. When I look down, I barely recognize myself.
I look… put together…important. Almost royal.
That thought sends another flutter of nerves through my stomach.
Now what? I wonder.
As if summoned by my anxiety, there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Yes?” I call.
The door opens just enough for a woman to peek in. She’s small and brisk, with dark hair pinned back and a crisp black-and-white uniform. She dips into a quick curtsy.
“Mornin’, Your Majesty,” she says in a lilting accent. “I’m ‘ere to do your ‘air, if it pleases.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“My… hair?”
“Yes, Miss,” she says brightly, already stepping inside with a tray of brushes and pins. “The Master wants you lookin’ proper before the meetin,’ so he does.”
The Master. I suppose she must mean Lucian though the thought of calling him that does funny things to my stomach—especially when I remember the sex dungeon room he has down the hall.
I swallow hard, trying to push away the thought. It’s surprisingly easy, because now I have another thought—a question. Am I the first human woman that Lucian has brought here, proclaiming her a “Curvy Queen?” Is this just a regular occurrence for this maid?”
“Thank you,” I say to her. “Um—have you done anyone else’s hair before? Any other women here in the Crimson Spires, I mean?”
She looks genuinely puzzled.
