Page 32 of Charming Deception

I scowl at her embroidered corset. “You really have no idea what would happen to you. What a Lady’s worth out in the wide world, to other tribes beyond the Westlands. You’d be lucky if they killed you.” I flick my knife in the air. “Now take it off.”

She doesn’t.

“Or you can stay like that. But if you fall and break an ankle, I’m leaving you behind.”

I turn away as she finally starts moving. I hear the rustle of her skirts. I hear her boots clunk on the floor. I give her a moment to pull on the leggings, then turn. They fit well enough. They’re too short, meant for a boy, but once she puts her boots back on and tucks them in, you wouldn’t know.

The fancy corset now looks even more ridiculous.

“The rest of it. Come on.”

She seems distraught. “You have to help me. My dressing girl used to do it.”

Bloody hell. She can’t even dress herself?

I jam the tip of my knife blade into the tabletop and spin her around. I unhook the many hooks on the back of the corset, exposing her naked back. Then I rip the corset off.

She turns around, holding her slender arms over her chest. Her breasts are larger than I would’ve thought. You couldn’t tell a thing about her tits through that corset, which is not the least of what’s wrong with it. I toss the thing on the floor, where it belongs.

“Is there a bra?”

“You don’t need a bloody bra. Just put this on.” I shove the boys’ undershirt at her.

We stare at each other like we’re from two different planets. I’m starting to think we are.

“Savage girls don’t wear bras?”

“Why on earth would they?”

She takes the undershirt like it’s diseased, but she turns around and slips it on. She tucks the shirt into her leggings, and when she turns back around, the thin fabric is stretched over her breasts. I can see her nipples through it.

I toss the other shirt at her. She pulls it on. It’s long sleeved and fitted, and I can still see her nipples. It’s not even cold in here.

I hand her the vest, and she pulls it on. There. Now she looks like a human being instead of some fairy-tale nightmare.

“And no more fancy hairdos.”

“Fancy?” She touches her mussed hair. “What’s fancy about it?”

“No one besides some stuck-up Lady would wear her hair like that. Take it out.”

She starts taking it out. “But I don’t know any other way to wear it. How do savage girls wear their hair?”

“Just do a plain braid.”

“I don’t know how to do a braid.”

What girl doesn’t know how to do a braid? What person doesn’t know how to do a braid?

I really hope she’s a fantastic fuck, for her future husband’s sake, or the man’s getting nothing out of this deal.

I grab her hair, pull it forward over one shoulder. I split it into three sections and braid it so she can see. “Just pull each section over the one in the middle, back and forth. Left, right, left, right.” I get to the bottom and grab the strip of leather she pulled from her fancy do.

“Have you braided a lot of savage girls’ hair?” she asks as I tie the leather around the bottom of the braid in a little bow.

“Horsehair.” I drop the braid. “Same damn thing. Now keep up, or you get left behind.”

I head outside, and she hurries to follow me into the forest. “Stop making idle threats. You’re not going to leave me here alone.”

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