I try not to breathe as the last corset hook is yanked into place. “Ow, that’s digging into my rib cage.”
Yenyen huffs a breath through his teeth and gives one last vicious tug, which forces a squeak out of me. “In the past, brides would break their ribs to fit into their wedding dresses,” he says, and it strikes me that he’s not saying it in a horrified tone, but rather a wistful one, which is somewhat worrying. “How do you feel?”
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