“The humans you saw,” he gestured to the spyglass still in her hands, “were they wearing clothes?”
She shook her head no.
“It's warm enough here that exposure to the elements isn't an issue, so there's no risk of losing a slave to the weather. Protective clothing is expensive; slaves are cheap—with the prices going down every day. There are billions of you. Even at capacity and high turnover, the slave trade in the City would never come close to making the slightest dent in your numbers. You do that yourselves.” He continued despite the fact that she would not look at him. “I'm telling you the reality. This,” he gestured to the heap of leather and metal chain with his foot, “means I value you, because I've taken the time to decorate you.”
“Decorate me. Like an object.”
“Like a beautifu
