Cassian's POV
She froze again, her knuckles white around the fabric. I could see the hesitation in her eyes, the shame, the fear. For her, this wasn't a fitting. It was another kind of humiliation.
She realized right then that she was naked.
"Do you need me to call the dressmaker to help you?" I asked, deliberately keeping my tone calm, letting my words sink in.
"No," she said quickly, voice small but firm. "I can manage."
"Then do it."
She turned away, fumbling with the first dress. I should have left, but I didn't. I stood there, arms crossed, silent and waiting—every movement she made, the rustle of the fabric and the soft sound of her breathing.
There wasn't any need for me to step out any longer; it was a longer procedure, so I took one of the seats in the dressing room and watched her try out the dresses, one after the other.
She wore the creamy silk dress, and it accentuated her body so well that I felt my body hum in excitement.
"It fits," I said simply. "Next one."
