Chapter 83

SERAPHINA

The tailor worked in silence. Her hands moved quickly, but I could feel the resentment towards me radiating from her.

Every pin she stuck into the fabric which hurt me on my skin felt deliberate. Every adjustment seemed designed to make me uncomfortable.

"Stand straighter," Madame Rousseau commanded, her tone clip and not warm.

I straightened my spine. My back already ached from standing so long.

"Arms out. No, higher. Higher than that."

I raised my arms until they ...