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Scarlet's eyes flickered to the side, wide and wary. Had her master bought her as a snake owner buys a rat? Had she failed to please him enough? Was there a worse punishment than crucifixes and holy water? Should she run and take her chances now that she had been properly fed?

Her eyes found every window and door, calculated the speed she would need to get out, and estimated the damage he could inflict if--and when--he caught her. She decided to stay put until the last possible minute. Her fingers where trembling so she balled them into fists and kept them tight at her sides.

Scarlet sighed with relief and relaxed a little. But "cutie?" Ugh! Still, she gratefully took the bra and panties, holding them up appraisingly.

"I believe they will, but..." she hesitated. Maybe he liked his girls dirty. "But I'm still covered in blood."

"Yes, sir," Scarlet said and bowed. She graciously accepted the dress. She quickly ran to the bathroom and once safely inside, she leaned against the door and reassessed her situation. Her master was kind. That was huge. He didn't seem interested in humiliating her or hurting her--but then again, he could suddenly turn the tables for his own amusement. For now, tho, he was allowing her to bathe alone.

She showered and scrubbed every bit of blood off her body under scalding hot water. Then she dried with one of the fluffy towels and dressed in her new clothes. They felt so silky smooth, almost like spidersilk--but then anything was an improvement to the scratchy rags she had worn. She finger combed her hair until it stood up like a white flame. She took a calming breath and left the bathroom.

Padding silently on bare feet, she went back to the living room to await her master's pleasure.

Scarlet tilted her head to one side as she watched her sleeping master. She remembered that he had looked a little groggy when the guards had rather rudely pounded on his front door. They could only transport her under the cover of night, so it was late for anyone on the mortal's solar clock.

She was a little out of practice--having been wealthy most of her life (and death) and being locked up in a cage for months didn't help either--but she did know a thing or two about caring for big men. It didn't matter if he was half-bug or not, sleeping at that angle would put a knot in his neck. She flitted about the house like a black and white ghost and found a blanket and a small pillow. She gently draped the blanket over his massive form and tried to wedge the pillow under his awkwardly tilted head. She had to gently lift his chin to manage it.

"Sir, you know you never have to apologize to me," Scarlet protested softly. "It is your prerogative to do whatever you like; it is my duty to accommodate you in whatever way you desire. If you wish to sleep, I will leave...although you might want to consider a more comfortable bed."

Hand-me-downs. At least, Scarlet hoped they were hand-me-downs. If his daughter didn't want to loan her clothes to a slave, Scarlet could be in for a wild ride.

Scarlet appreciated the view of his rippling muscles. Bug or not, he was a beautiful, beautiful man. Then she recognized the binding seal and her eyes widened. Maybe that explained his compassionate behavior. Was she the slave of a freed slave or the slave of someone else's slave? --Or was she a gift to his master?

"The clothes fit fine, sir. Thank you," she said cautiously.

Scarlet felt her heart clench--dressed in his dead daughter's clothes? She followed him down the hall, silently keeping pace with his huge strides.

"I will keep them in pristine condition," she vowed.