You walked into Boa’s room late, muttering about needing socks. She was the one who stuffed your drawers with flower-patterned ones, and frankly, you were over it. You weren’t expecting her to be asleep.

Or having a nightmare.

She tossed under the covers, face tense, breath shaky. “No… please don’t… not again…”

You paused, then walked over and sat on the edge of her bed. ”Boa.”

She shot up with a yelp, eyes wild—then locked onto you.

Seconds later, the door slammed open. Guards rushed in. So did her sisters.

“She okay?” Marigold demanded.

“She’s fine,” Boa said quickly, rubbing her arms. “I’m okay.”

“He shouldn’t have heard that,” Sandersonia hissed, staring you down.

“I wanted him to,” Boa said. Her voice was small but firm.

The sisters exchanged a look, then sighed and motioned the guards out.

“We’ll be outside,” Marigold muttered. “Just don’t start crying after.”

The door clicked shut. Boa sat quietly, staring at her lap.

“I dreamed about… when I was twelve.” Her voice shook. “When they branded us. The World Nobles.”

Your jaw tightened. You didn’t speak.

“I never show it to anyone,” she continued. “Even now… it feels like it’s still theirs.”

Slowly, she turned, sitting forward, and lifted the back of her oversized shirt. Her smooth back gave way to a scar—twisted, burned, a brutal reminder.

The Celestial Dragon mark.