The Secrets of Lore Seymour

15. Grateful for Robes

Somehow, the car survives the perilous drive down a few blocks to the next store. I'm shocked the vehicle can carry this kind of weight or that the windows don't bust from the sheer velocity Lore uses when going around turns. I don't recall there being any vehicular manslaughters in his records, but I get the feeling there should be.

Lore's insistence takes us to another clothes parlor. The owner recognizes him immediately, greeting Lore with that familiar "I'm-about-to-get-rich" grin.

"Your Grace, welcome, welcome!" he exclaims, making me wonder if he'd be as excited by the prospect of a dhampir purchasing a suit if he wasn't a lord. The familiar necklace around the owner's neck points to him disliking dhampir as much as I do, but the saying is true; money rules the world.

"My apologies, did you happen to call in an order earlier? I don't recall hearing of your arrival," the owner says, keeping his gaze fixated on the literal gem in his store.

"No, this was a spur of the moment decision. I've come to procure him a few suits," Lore says, causing me to pivot away from the illustrious suits to gape at the one foolish enough to make such an offer.

"Me? What for?" I point at myself in utter shock and slight terror. These fine garbs are worth more than my monthly salary! The thought of wearing any of them makes my knees shake. I know I'll get them dirty and, oh mothers, the cost of the dry cleaning!! I feel faint.

Lore steps over donning a disgusted scowl. He pinches the shoulder of my robe to tug like it's a piece of scum. "These rags are acceptable for certain circumstances, but there are events that I'm sure you will insist on attending that require more appropriate attire. Besides," Lore's long fingers slip around my neck that trembles beneath the touch. "These robes aren't doing you any favors."

Thankfully for my sanity, Lore retreats, allowing the owner to rush over. His hand grasping my arm brings me back to reality, reminds me that I should have slapped Lore's hand away or at least showed a reaction other than standing there forgetting to breathe.

"Excuse me," the owner says while gesturing to a nearby door. "Please allow us to take your measurements. While we do so, His Grace may look through a few of the options we have available."

"Why don't I get to cho--" I'm cut short by the owner swiftly dragging me towards the door. His eagerness to please Lore puts my desires on the back burner. Actually, they may not even be on a burner, probably tossed to the floor to be forgotten about and dragged off by a rat.

I'm thrust into a closet where the owner and another worker take my measurements. Dare I say it, this may be the strangest thing I've ever done. Never thought the day would come when two strange men would be rolling tape measures around me and finnicking with my robes to get proper numbers. Once they're done, I'm taken back to Lore, who sits comfortably in a velvet chair. A wrack sits next to him already containing a few suits. He sets aside a catalog to face me.

"There are a few suits already here that you can try on, Seren," he states. I contemplate whether that's up for debate.

I approach Lore, leaning over him to whisper, "Do I have a say in any of this? Because I've never worn a suit, never thought I would, and would much rather wear my church garbs. I am a paladin of the Holy Church--"

"And they dress you in rags," Lore interrupts. He even tugs on the ropes around my waist, nearly undoing them if I hadn't grabbed them fast enough. He smirks. "As I said, there may be times where a suit is necessary. I'll purchase three or four for you. If it bothers you so much, you may leave them at the manor after you've gone. I'll donate them."

We stare at one another long enough for my lungs to ache because, apparently, having prolonged eye contact with him has that effect.

Grumbling, I give in and Lore eagerly points at the first suit to try on. I'm dragged away to change, but they at least give me privacy to do so. It takes me longer than expected. Why are there, like, a bajillion pieces to a suit?! Shouldn't there be pants, a shirt, and a jacket?! This is too complicated. No wonder nobles take an eternity to get ready. There must be an entire handbook on how to wear every article of clothing!