“I’m here for your wedding. I got this, what would you call it, sixth sense you might need some friends now. And maybe a new pair of shoes.” With a snap of her fingers, Dame Kiki summons a pair of boots from thin air. They're glossy onyx black, studded with gleaming silver spikes and with platform heels that kill. Deadly and delicious. My heart skips a beat. “To replace those glass, shank traps I had you in,” she says with a wink. “These beauties will let you come and go from this pretty palace as you please. Because if you are going to get married, you’ll need to assemble your wedding party.”
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