[ it takes half a moment, to place what he's talking about. but she unfolds her arms to tug down on the sleeve of her shirt self-consciously, to make sure that the peacock tattoo is covered. ]

Of course I do, it's humiliating.

[ every time she looks at it, she thinks about what she was forced to do, and what was taken from her. she thinks about ravka, and home, and her parents, and little orange cakes in white paper, and her father tucking flowers into her hair. and how disgusted they would be, to know what became of their daughter.

she supposes being in a gang is no better, in terms of parental pride. ]

I would have cut it out of my skin myself, but Heleen wouldn't trust me with a knife.