Cian paused, letting her hands drop to her sides.

Was she being [i]ignored[/i] by this woman? 

They took away her freedom, making her a slave.
They took away her ability to choose who to let in her bed.
They took away her life, giving her to a vampire.
He took away her humanity, giving her this unquenchable thirst.
Mor locked her up in that iron casket, letting her loose only when there was a job.
And now she was here, and she was being denied a [i]bath[/i].

Mor would have understood.

Mor would have provided her with a hot bath, clean clothes, and everything that implied! Her appearance was the only thing she had any control over.

Let this "warden" see what happens if you dared to ignore [i]Cian[/i]!

Carefully, Cian reached up and undid the buckles for her stained and soiled leathers, slipping out of the armor quietly and placing it gently on the ground. Leaning forward to let the Dead God seal dangle away from her slightly, she began undoing the toggles for the rotting gambeson underneath...