Septimïe shrugged and lit another cigarette off of the heels of the last, reaching down and stubbing the spent one out onto her leather armour. She leaned into Irveska's touch, glad at least that the woman was no longer staring at her.
"Eef I have to dress up, zhen I vill. But can't I just pose as your guard or some'sing? I vould ra'zer not be without my sword or be so easily hurt as to be wiz'out my protection," she kicked the armour to illustrate her point. It was crappy, falling apart leather, but it was better than bare skin.