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With Your Hands Clasped in Prayer

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There isn't anything remotely feminine about the hunter, Alucard knows, but when she exits the stall in her new dress and he finally looks up from his book to catch a glimpse of her, his eyes almost leap from their sockets. While standing beside a woman as small as Sypha, Trevor still looks much the burly bear as when Alucard first met her, muscles visible and twitching angrily at being confined to something as frilly as a dress, but he'd never seen her fresh from a bathing and with her unkempt hair tended to.

"Well, what the hell are you gawping at?" she grunts finally with her lips cocking to one side in a perturbed manner.

Sypha peers around her with a grin and asks, "What do you think, Alucard?"

"It's a far cry from the uncouth man I thought to have first met when you stumbled into my tomb," Alucard teases, laughing after Trevor growls in warning a little, and then he adds, "and an absolute miracle that you've worked also, Sypha; you finally look the part of a noble lady of your standing, Trevor."