Raistlin has actually been trying very hard not to think about her bosom, actually, because this is all humiliating enough already. He twists, trying to reach the dagger he can see hanging just under her arm.

"I may - "

He's surprisingly flexible, for all he's got absolutely no muscle tone and weight about a hundred pounds soaking weight. With some effort, he's able to reach down and pull it partway out of its sheathe, then press the bonds against the blade. For whatever reason, they'd bound in him ordinary rope, albeit of finer quality than any he'd ever seen.

"Yes. Give me a moment." The bonds around his wrists fall away, and he grabs the knife properly. "My hands are free."