Oriana was relieved that later Arlan didn't take her back to the bed. She freshened up and changed into new clothes, as the dress she had worn on her arrival lay torn and discarded on the floor. As she picked it up, Arlan, preening in front of the mirror, caught her eye.
"Do not concern yourself with that," he said dismissively. "The servants will handle it."
By 'handle it' she knew he meant it would be thrown away.
"You don't have to tear my clothes every time, wasting these expensive fabrics," she protested.
Arlan chuckled as continued to button his jacket while looking at her through the mirror. "Your husband can afford to tear them and buy you several more without a second thought. Don't worry about it."
"Such extravagance. You wealthy people will never understand the true value of money," she sighed deeply.
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