The next morning, Scarlett stood in front of her wardrobe, her hands on her hips as she glared at the two uniforms hanging before her. Her old one, modest and familiar, hung next to the new one Lucien had gotten her – noticeably shorter and more fitted. The morning sunlight streaming through her window seemed to mock her predicament, highlighting the difference between the two uniforms.
"That insufferable, thoughtless, absolutely impossible..." she muttered, thinking of Lucien. Her fingers traced the edge of the new uniform's sleeve, the fabric admittedly softer than her old one. Her irritation quickly shifted to concern as she remembered where he was heading today.
She reached for her old uniform, then hesitated, her hand hovering between the two. The new one did look more stylish, she
