#Chapter 132: Spring Festival - Public Recognition

Ember The dress has been waiting on the stand for three days—deep emerald, almost the color of leaves in shadow, fitted and pinned by the seamstress until it hung exactly right. It's the most formal thing I've ever worn, and somehow the most like myself I've ever looked, which makes no sense and also makes complete sense. I put it on slowly, alone in the dressing room with only Nara for company, and when I turn to the mirror she exhales something warm and satisfied before I can. "We look like we belong here," she says. The mark glows at my shoulder through the silk, faint and steady. I trace it once with my fingertip and don't argue. Clara skids in before I can say anything—pale pink dress, flowers in her braid, shoes already slightly askew—and her face goes through something complicated when she sees me, the exact expression of someone who didn't know a thing could be this beautiful until it was right in front of them. She says "Mom, you're so pretty" with great solemnity, then