Corvo loathes his body. There are rarely any moments that the royal protector actually can look at his reflection without feeling his guts twist so hard that the back of this throat clenches to hold back any gagging noises. So for a long time he tries his best to ignore the feel of disgust; Avoiding mirror that betray his appearance.
It’s not something that can be easily done. With every year he grows more and the nature of life shifts his body more and more. Soft hips creating curves at his sides, plump growing breast forming where dark gloom filled eyes can see. Once a month blood seeps between his legs and that alone makes him curl up and cry at night where no one can see him. That alone is a reminder of how he really is, how others actually see him; A monthly message that makes him want to tear the skin of his breast with his nails alone.
Maybe, just then, he could be seen as he sees himself.
Corvo tries his hardest, watching guards and nobles alike, watching for traits and little habits that he should use. How he should move his hands when speaking, how to stand tall and confident. When his voice doesn’t natural change, the royal protector works on deepening it on his own. His throat is sore and raw for a while, and sometimes the looks he receives from people is more then enough to break what little confidence he has.
When Jessamine informs him of a special corset maker in the Rudshore Waterfront, he saves up all the coin he can and heads over almost as soon as he can muster the courage. After all his request isn’t a common one and the poor soul finds himself tripping over words; Trying to find ways to describe what he wants without being too harshly judge behind glowing red cheeks. No one says anything taunting and the woman who’s hair is pulled back into a bun of golden curls smiles softly at him. For once there’s a flutter of hope in his long saddened heart and excitement slowly builds with every day.
And one night, when the future empress and staff are asleep, the royal protector slips away into a private room, heart pounding in his chest as he pulls out his new garment. Its a struggle to put it on alone for the first time and the compression makes him forcibly draw deeper longer breaths. Its almost too much at once but when he gazes at his form in the mirror, Corvo has to hold tears back that threaten to spill done his cheeks.
What he sees isn’t exactly what Corvo dreams he sees everyday, but it’s more then enough for him to look hard at the reflection. Under the binder and the layers shirts and coats, there are no bumps. No breast protruding through the layers of fabric and he sighs. With the rush of the escaping breath, for a moment he has never felt so relieved. Years of self hatred and disgust melt away and in the mirror Corvo stares back at the man he’s starting to become.