The Scarlet Dress | Pantalone

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Pantalone

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You're not sure how you became so unfortunate that you'd gotten roped into an affair as ridiculous as this; like an actor on the side wings of the stage, you were suddenly thrust into the spotlight. He came knocking with an offer you couldn't refuse, not because of the lavish reward he promised, but simply because you didn't have the right to decline a Harbinger.

"Surely there's someone else more suited for the position," you had tried to say regarding his behest that you personally accompany him to a social function with foreign dignitaries.

"Ah, my dear, would I have come to you if I had someone else in mind?" the Regrator had said in response, a playful lilt on his tongue. There wasn't much you could say after that seeing as he was your superior.

"Honestly," you sighed, "this is much too extravagant." You were an agent; not somebody's trophy wife, but regardless, handmaidens were polishing your skin like some kind of silver tea set, and a red dress with sheening satin hung beside the mirror you were staring at yourself in, the measurements suspiciously to your exact size. 'That bastard had planned this!'

"On the contrary, I find it quite fitting," you're not sure when he entered the room, but Pantalone was now leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his signature foxy smile plastered on his face.

"Lord Pantalone, may I ask you something?" you began, irked.

"I get the feeling you're going to ask even without my permission."

You rolled your eyes, thankful you still had your mask to cover your expression, "What is it you're doing intruding on a woman's dressing room?"

Not missing a heartbeat, he said, "Why, I'm ensuring the proceedings of our agreement go according to plan."

"Yeah, agreement," you muttered. "Excuse my ignorance, but I was under the impression this was a...dignified function to further the Northland Bank's influence, so what is a dress like that doing in here?"

Said dress was a remarkable scarlet sunset with thin straps leading to a bodice that dipped just under the bust and two cut outs on either side to reveal slivers of your torso. Satin fabric fell off in loose waves all the way to the floor, except on the right side which would almost entirely expose your leg. It was the kind of dress to make an entrance in, not something a Fatui agent should be wearing.

"For you to wear, of course," but that's not what he really meant. 'For my own entertainment, of course,' you could practically see spilling out from that ever present smile.

"Regardless, I'm afraid it doesn't fit, so I do wonder what I shall wear now?" the handmaiden filing your nails paused momentarily; she was the one who helped you into the dress earlier that evening. Luckily, though, she chose to keep her mouth shut.

You didn't expect him to be so direct, "That's certainly odd; I had it tailored just last week."

You almost lost your composure, but caught yourself just in time, "My, I certainly have to ask: how did you have it measured?"

"That's a trade secret, though if you really want to know, I could always offer it to you for a certain price."

"Absolutely not."

"In that case, put the dress on. I can arrange for adjustments to be made." His confident smile betrayed not his thoughts, but you'd been acquainted with him for some time now, and you knew from that fact he ordered you to wear it he was well aware of how it fit.

You frowned, "Although it would be my pleasure to wear the dress you've oh-so-graciously gifted me, I fear I cannot undress myself in the presence of a man."

"Of course," he chuckled, preparing to leave. "Although, there would be no greater honor."

That sly bastard.

Once the door was fully shut and locked, you turned back to the handmaiden who was gathering the dress off the hanger. "You need not look so concerned; the fault is mine alone," you sighed.

She was hesitant to speak, "It is not my own safety that I fear."

"Well, if he had any intention of harming me he would have done so already. Come, let us get this over with," you beckoned as you loosened your clothes.

"Truly remarkable," the young girl breathed once she brought the zipper to the top. You couldn't disagree.

It was a perfect fit, as if the Regrator had personally sewn it on you, a rather uncomfortable notion. The girl helped you slip into the heels which were a soft nude adorned in glittering gold embellishments and painted a striking red on the bottom.

As much as you dreaded it, you couldn't stall any longer, and as you clipped the last hanging diamond into your ear, you said, "Please inform Lord Pantalone that we are finished."

"As you wish," the handmaiden scurried off.

You didn't turn to look at him as he entered, but you certainly felt his lingering gaze. His eyes which always seemed to be scheming were not dissuaded by your aloofness.

He clicked his tongue, "Daring to lie to a Harbinger? Oh, Y/n, this is exactly what makes you so irresistible."

You felt a shiver go down your spine, but you only looked backed at him when he gently grasped your hand. He peeled the ring off of his fifth finger and slid it onto yours; it was silver with intertwining purple markings, distinctly different from the other gold jewelry he had prepared.

You were nervous to ask, "What is this for?"

"A sign to all of those at the party that you are mine and mine alone," his words cast away all doubt in your mind as to his intentions, yet, only when you were standing next to him on the balcony overlooking all the guests, it was the way his hand rubbed gentle circles on the small of your back that you truly felt your days of pretend freedom were over.

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