Solaris owned one dress, one coat and one pair of boots. She had already complained about two of them.
Lancet took her to a clothing store three streets away.
The staff, who had also seen the news, recognized her before they reached the first rack.
Within minutes, Solaris had been placed in a private fitting section while two attendants carried in enough outfits to clothe a small family.
The first was a red dress with a high collar.
Solaris emerged, turned once and looked at Lancet. "The sleeves restrict my shoulders."
Lancet's face was all red as he stared at her. "They… uhm… it looks fine to me."
Solaris lowered her hands and gaped disappointedly. "That was not what I asked."
"You asked me to tell you which ones are nice."
"Suitable," she corrected. "I don't care at all about nice. I desire comfort and freedom to use my powers if I need."
"Well it's…" Lancet stammered, staring at her cleavage as it popped out of the low sleeved dress. "...suitable."
