"I can't breathe in this thing!"
Elaria struggled with the wedding dress while Martha and two other maids tried to lace it properly. The gown was magnificent—white silk embroidered with silver thread, thousands of tiny crystals that caught the light like stars. It was also incredibly tight.
"Beauty requires sacrifice, Princess," Martha said, yanking the laces tighter. "Hold still."
"I'm going to pass out before I reach the altar."
"Then we'll prop you up. Stop squirming."
In the reflection of the mirror, Elaria saw herself transformed into someone she barely recognized. Her hair had been arranged in an elaborate style with fresh flowers woven through. Her face had been painted with subtle cosmetics. The dress made her waist impossibly small and pushed up her breasts in a way that made
