"Is it really wrong for a man to look at a woman's ankle?" Caitriona asked curiously, frowning a little. "That's certainly a strange custom..." It did seem rather silly for a man to not look at an ankle. There wasn't anything very attractive about an ankle after all and her skirts weren't so hiked up you could see past the knee. Wincing, she set her foot down on the cool linoleum then bit her bottom lip as she glanced at Gilda. "I'm honestly sorry for my appearance...I don't know how I came to be where I was...or...how I...ended up in a dress with so many rips and tears. There's quite a lot I don't recall..." she said with remorse, pouting a little as she tried to work past that fog clouding her memories with no avail. That was the most frustrating part about this entire ordeal honestly. She hated not knowing anything about herself, only what she'd been told. She certainly did not feel like a princess or future queen. She just felt like...well felt like a lost girl.