Septima is finally 18. That means she can finally have her freedom of not being accompanied by guards all the time to snitch on her.

“You know you don't need to make me 10 flower crowns, right? They'll soon rot.” Septima sighs, in the softest voice she can—which is not very soft— so you don't get the wrong idea. She really appreciates the flower crowns you make her, but how can Septima express her happiness?

“Look, just make two. It's easier and we'll use it." she says, blocking the sunlight.