sophie fray, district one | finished [CB]

A sword wrapped in pink silk and a pair of ballet slippers — both are layered with dust. She just doesn't have the time to practice; she has too much of it. The girl is feline in her grace, in her laziness and her entitlement. All her peers are mice, and her nails are sharp, but she can't be bothered to be dangerous. The youngest daughter of a crimson empire, true Fray blood flowing through her veins, Sophie has never been expected to be lethal. Only lovely.

And she is, with all her giggling and her bubblegum kisses. She's harmless, content to pick wildflowers and watch all the world fade to nothing. She's unfamiliar with that word — with the concept of not having everything at her disposal. She does not want, and she does not need. Pretty and popular and precious to her parents; there's nothing more to aspire to. Her siblings have bled themselves dry and her brother has crowned himself, so what else is left for her?

It's her birthright to let herself rot.
Bury her in the garden with all
the other beautiful, silent things.