I look down. The black lace ruffles around my middle and snakes up my arms in floral patterns. The butterfly sleeves give mesomething to torment with my fingers, though I won’t give Yulian the satisfaction of seeing it.
He can’t know how nervous I am. Last time we sparred, I blinked first.
“Thanks.” I smooth down my skirt. “I got it off a clearance rack.”
His lips quirk. “A better rack than last time, I’m sure.”
He isn’t wrong—I did splurge a little. As in, way more than I ever thought I could spend on a single item of clothing. Thatreceipt will be giving me nightmares until I die.
“Figured I’d need a work closet,” I say with a shrug.
Yulian hums appreciatively. “You could have done worse.”
I get the feeling it’s the most praise he’s ever given anyone. “I’ll try harder next time. To
