"She's beautiful."
That was a line that Iris often heard. It was supposed to have made someone happy, but for Iris, it had the opposite effect.
Why should she feel gratified when the word "beautiful" was meant to degrade her value?
Being beautiful, and a woman at that... the expectation to be pure and lower than a man would be the best she could be. No one really cared what she could do. The only direction their gazes would fall onto would be her face — well, sometimes her body.
But never ever her talents.
She knew. Because that was how her parents and brothers looked at her.
From when she was born, her life was already decided.
"Here, wear this."
From her dresses and corsets that made her so breathless...
'I hate this.'
The etiquette classes.
"You're not supposed to do that!"
