Mei
The mirror did not feel like hers.
Mei stood still, fingers lightly gripping the edge of the marble counter as her reflection stared back at her, unchanged and yet completely unfamiliar. The emerald fabric clung where it should, fell where it should, every line deliberate, every detail too perfect for someone like her.
A stain would ruin it.
The thought came uninvited. Quiet. Practical.
A stain would make sense.
Something small, something human, something imperfect to prove she had not been misplaced into a world that rejected flaws as if they were weakness. Her chest rose slowly. Fell. The powder room was too bright compared to the ballroom. The silence here was different. Not predatory. Not watchful. But it did not ease her.
It only gave her space to think.
That was worse.
The bond had not calmed.
