Hasmik sang along to the crystal-radio, drumming her fingers on the wheel.
We approached the main gate, towering and laced with gold sigils. As soon as we neared, the heavy gates creaked open slowly.
My breath caught.
This was it.
The first time I’d stepped into civilization since… since everything. It didn’t matter that Hasmik was beside me, practically vibrating with joy. My pulse spiked. I couldn’t help it. I bit down hard on my bottom lip as the gates parted completely and we rolled outside.
“Hey.” Hasmik’s voice cut through the rising tide of thoughts.
I turned to her.
“You okay?” she asked. “We don’t have to do this today if you’re not ready.”
“I’m okay,” I responded. “Just… nervous.”
She nodded, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “That’s fair. First rule of shopping therapy though, fear dies at the fitting room.”
A small laugh escaped me. But even as I nodded, letting her comfort trickle into the cracks inside me… another thought crept in.
Could I escape? This was the first time the world beyond those gates had opened itself to me and the first time I wasn’t surrounded by palace guards.
Could I find a way to… disappear?
I buried the thought as quickly as it came, afraid it might show on my face. Hasmik was too sharp not to notice things like that. The ride into town was longer than expected most likely because Hasmik kept taking the scenic route, pointing out massive buildings, cafés, parks, and even a towering bookstore that seemed to rearrange itself depending on who was looking at it.
But it wasn’t the architecture that overwhelmed me.
It was the people.
No, beings.
They were everywhere. Walking, hovering, dancing in midair, laughing on benches. Furred, scaled, winged, horned, so many different kinds, dressed in everything from royal silks to spiked leather and armor.
This was not the world I remembered. This side of town was louder, bolder, and unapologetically alive.
And I had never felt more like a ghost among them.
Hasmik, on the other hand, was absolutely in her element. “The main city’s practically a circus,” she explained cheerfully, weaving through traffic.
I swallowed hard.
We finally pulled into a shaded, cobblestone street lined with boutique stores and enchanted mannequins that changed poses as you walked by. Hasmik parked like she owned the block, grabbed her bag, and dragged me straight to the first store.
Red Lace.
“Wait, isn’t this…?”
“…Exactly what you need!” Hasmik chirped, pushing open the gilded glass doors. “Trust me.”
The scent of warm vanilla, cashmere, and soft musk hit me instantly. Everything sparkled. Lace, satin, silk. Even the hangers seemed unnecessarily elegant. I stood frozen near the entrance, unsure whether to bolt or melt into the wallpaper.
“I… I don’t know if this is my style,” I mumbled, staring at a mannequin wearing nothing but a crimson lace set and thigh-high garters. My skin prickled.
Hasmik looped her arm through mine and grinned. “Of course it’s not. That’s the point. You’ve been wearing Sargis’ hoodies like you’re in a hostage video. “This…” She held up a jet-black bralette with sheer cups and little gold chains. “…this is your awakening arc.”
I blinked. “My what?”
“Anime, remember? Every strong female character has that one episode where she realizes she’s hot and dangerous and worthy of silk and vengeance. This is yours.”
I nearly laughed. Nearly.
But she wasn’t letting me escape. She kept handing me sets, some tame, some scandalous, most downright illegal by my standards. Every time I wrinkled my nose or took a hesitant step back, she rolled her eyes dramatically.
“Narine, babe. One day, you’re going to wear this, and Sargis is going to die. Like, combust. Right there. Poof. All because of this little number right here,” she gushed, holding up a wine-red corset that looked like sin stitched into fabric.
“I’m not sure if I want to wear something that could kill him,” I muttered.
She snorted. “You say that now. But you’ll thank me later.”
Eventually, I was ushered into the changing room, with my arms overflowing with lace, mesh, and a questionable bodysuit that I swore was missing entire square feet of fabric.
And through it all, Hasmik waited right outside the door, coaching me like a personal hype squad.
“Okay, show me!”
“Absolutely yes to that one!”
“No, not the beige, beige is for emotional support, not seduction!”
I emerged in a deep green set, simple but elegant. The soft fabric hugged my skin, it was not too revealing.
Hasmik whistled from behind the curtain. “Now that-that’s the one. You look like you could kill a man and then write a love letter on his grave.”
I smiled faintly at that. Her words were ridiculous, but oddly empowering. Still, as my gaze drifted lower, my heart faltered. There they were.
The scars.
Long, silvery reminders slashed across my hips, and the sides of my stomach, like brands. My fingers grazed over the marks and I swallowed the knot rising in my throat.
“You look damn good,” Hasmik squealed.
I forced a smile. “I don’t feel it.”
“What do you mean?” she frowned, stepping closer. “That green is doing unholy things to your skin.”
I turned slightly, folding my arms over my stomach. “The scars,” I said quietly. “They make it hard to see anything else.”
Hasmik went quiet for a moment. Then she looked me straight in the eyes. “Those scars?” she declared. “That’s armor, Narine. That’s survival. You don’t hide them, you wear them like a goddamn crown.”
I wanted to believe her. I did. But believing is easy when you’re not the one living inside the body that remembers every scream, cut, and time no one came to save you.
I changed into something simpler after that, dark jeans, a cropped turtleneck, and boots.
We moved on after that. Hasmik didn’t push me again. We kept things light, shopping for shoes, jewelry, and dresses. At one point, we paused at a street-side café for a light snack. I barely touched my food, but I nodded along to Hasmik’s endless banter, grateful for the distraction.
By the time the sun dipped lower behind the glass towers of the city, our arms were full of bags. Hasmik insisted on one last boutique.
We tried on more clothes. Some were plainly ridiculous, and some beautiful. I even twirled in a velvet coat I would never wear outside the palace.
Buzz.
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