An Outing

[Pandora’s POV]

I stare at Lucian, taking him in as what he has just said floats in my mind.

He would give me a choice? Really? Did he think that I believed such bullshit? But I settled on cooperating so that I could survive until my wolf returned, so for now I needed to be pleasant and not try to start any trouble.

“Alright,” I say slowly, causing his eyes to light up ever so slightly, and I don’t know why, but that makes something in my stomach churn.

Frowning, I look down while wondering if there was something in the food that he fed me, but deep down, I know that isn’t the case, and that is more unsettling than the idea of being poisoned.

“Now,” he announces when an awkward silence falls around us once more. “Get up and shower and change; I’ll be in the hall waiting.”

“What!” I gasp as he gets up, not giving me the chance to even say no. “Hey! Where are you…?"

I don’t get to finish my words before he disappears and the door closes.

“What the hell?” I hiss, staring at the door like it will open and reveal Lucian again. “He just goes at his own pace, doesn’t he?”

Of course he does. The small voice in the back of my mind says. A spoiled heir who has been given everything since birth. Why would he care about what anyone else says?

Sighing, I look toward the bathroom as the urge to bathe hits me, especially when my own stench reaches my nose.

“Alright,” I huff, slowly getting up and heading across the room. “I’m only doing this because I stink, not because he told me.”

Settling on this, I head into the bathroom and then beeline for the large round tub that sits to the side, and when I reach it, I turn on the water and watch as it begins to fall, filling the tub with water that steams beautifully.

A bath. How long has it been since I’ve had a proper bath? Sure, at the auctions they washed us, but that was once a month when the auctions took place, and you could hardly call being forced into buckets of freezing water such a thing.

Quickly, I strip out of my clothes and throw them aside just like instructed and then dip a foot into the tub. Instantly, a wave of satisfaction and delight flares through me as I climb inside and let the hot water press against my skin.

“Aaaaahhhhhh,” I sigh, slumping further under until I’m buried in water up to my nose. “This is nice.”

Goddess, I missed this. Who knew that something as simple as bathing could feel so good? Most certainly not me, at least, not until I lost everything.

At this thought, I feel my good mood beginning to shift, but before it can go south and the demons of the past attack me, I sit up and look around until I find shampoo, conditioner, and soap. And not wasting any time, I begin to make use of them, scrubbing and washing every inch of my body until all grit and grime is gone. And even then I wash again and again as if it will wash away the years of suffering and torture that I’ve endured, but when it doesn’t, I finally give up and get out, then wrap a fluffy white robe around me.

“Hairbrush and toothbrush,” I murmur, heading to the sink where the items sit just as Lucian promised. “Let’s be thorough in our washing.”

I don’t know how much time I spend brushing knots out of my long dark hair or brushing the taste of decay and fungus from my mouth until finally I feel like I’m clean enough, but when I step out into the room I find Lucian walking in with a look of worry on his face.

“Hey!” I yelp, wrapping my arms around myself even though the robe I wear covers everything. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making sure that you didn’t attempt to drown yourself.” He responds, looking me up and down, most likely making sure that I didn’t do anything stupid. “You took quite a while.”

“Wouldn’t you?” I challenge, slowly releasing myself. “After years of living in filth, I had to make sure to scrub every nook and cranny of my body.”

Frowning, he just stares at me, and when a strange emotion flashes in his eyes, I feel that stirring in my stomach again. However, before I can think too hard about what it is that I’m feeling, I nod toward the closet.

“Are there clothes in there?” I ask. “Or do you expect me to stay in this robe?”

“There are clothes,” he confirms. “In there and in the dresser. I had a few things prepared when I decided to free you from that horrid place.”

Nodding, I head to the closet and pull the door open and then begin to take in the dresses that hang there.

“Dresses,” I murmur, turning my gaze to Lucian in disbelief. “Is there nothing else?”

“What do you mean?” He asks, moving forward and stopping beside me so he can see what I’m seeing. “Is there a problem with this?”

Was there a problem? Did he think that I wanted to lounge around in fancy dresses that were meant for outings and parties? Were the things that he liked his women to wear? Man, he had some fancy tastes.

“There is,” I respond, heading to my bed and plopping down. “Where on earth am I going to be wearing such things?” I begin, deciding to test him. “Or did you intend for me to be a pretty little bird caught in this cage where you and those guards can watch me like I’m some sort of centerpiece?”

At my words, a look of confusion flashes in his eyes, but when understanding flashes in his eyes, I know that he didn’t even consider this.

“Then what would you prefer to wear?” He asks, closing the closet door. “I’ll have my people buy clothes that are to your tastes.”

“Trousers and shirts.” I respond immediately. “Something comfortable and practical.”

Even when I was young and free, I didn’t wear pretty dresses. Since I was an heir, I had to train and study all the time, so I didn’t have the luxury of walking around looking like a flower like the other ladies, but that was fine with me.

“Noted,” Lucian mutters. “But would you be willing to wear at least one of the dresses until new clothes arrive?”

Remaining silent, I consider his words, but even then I don’t really want to do that. Why should I? I was going to be stuck in this room anyway, so why not just remain in my robe?

“I’ll wear this,” I announce, nodding down. “It shouldn’t be an issue since everything is covered, correct?”

“Wrong,” he immediately responds. “That is not appropriate attire for an outing.”

“Outing,” I repeat, raising a brow. “What outing?”

“You’ll see.”