"How could you let me leave in this?" I hissed at Tristan as he checked the stalls to make sure we were alone. He'd brought us to this particular bathroom because it was only used by employees, so it was often empty. And now I had to sneak out of it dressed as a gladiator-slut from the 1300s–I still wore the traditional Amadis dress. We could only flash with what could fit in Tristan's pockets–passports, a cell phone and money–so I couldn't change. "Thought you were keeping it on for a reason," Tristan said with a shrug. "You could get your way with any warm-blooded male wearing that. Although … you could probably do the same wearing sweats and a T." I rolled my eyes. "This is so not cool. I need normal clothes. At least you look normal!" He was also still dressed for the ceremony-that-never-happened. Though I wished our escape from that mortifying event wasn't because of these more terrifying circumstances, the timing couldn't have been more in my favor. Of course, here I was in this scanty dress about to be seen by a lot more people than would fit on the Amadis Island.
