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Moreau’s Daughter

Lily stretched her aching legs to the opposite end of the tub. The sheen of water accentuated her scars—thin, precise lines tracing the insides of both arms and legs. She worked her limbs daily to prevent their stiffening and contorting, but even with diligent chi practice the pain was never completely absent, only sleeping. Lily thought it far more likely that scar tissue would catch her up before her reputation ever did.

Lily had the familiar feeling of holding a door closed in her mind, against a nightmare of filth and pain and fire.
Your Figure Will Assume Beautiful Outlines

I don't know if Da heard him, but the next time he was working my defense, he jabbed me right over my taped nose. While I tried to wipe the water from my eyes, he followed up with a couple of hooks that knocked me sideways into the ropes. I wanted to embrace him, but the bell hadn't gone yet, so I bounced up and under his guard and pummeled him in the ribs until it did.

But I did not see her in the crowd the night of my fight, and because I dropped my guard to look, I lost.
From the Archives:
Dancing the Warrior, Pt. I
Her clothing hid the rest of the bruises, though, and Sen was determined not to let any pain show.