In exchange for his question, she shot him a look that suggested that for all his love of women...he knew nothing about them. Perhaps some time in the female form could have done him some good after all. Certainly d'Artagnan had proven several times over that he lacked a basic understanding of what it was like to a woman in their world, no matter how she had attempted to explain it to him.

"I had only the one dress," she reminded him, before she had to remind herself that she was speaking to a Musketeer and that they were a species who only ever seemed to switch out the shirts they wore beneath the layers of their leather. One could hope the same could be said of their smalls, but with men, in her opinion, 'hope' was the key word. "I could hardly wander about for more than a day or two without a change of clothes."

Where she had made a point of remaining covered as much as her dresses had ever offered, it was true that she had chosen a pair of pants over any of the shorter dresses or skirts that had been for sale. There was a freedom to them, to the way they allowed her to move, she could not say she was not already fond of. "Besides, I don't see why men should be the only ones to wear pants when no one is about to give me a second look for them here."