“Come, let me see the dress on you,” Agatha coaxes. I had finished my needlecraft submission, traditional harvest dress. The Harvest Fair was a tradition older than the realm. It was a festival thanking the moon goddess for the harvest that sustains us. It was tradition to make offerings to the goddess, wear bright embroidered dresses, dance, play games, and feast. “I think I need help getting into this.” I grumbled. “Yes, the festival dresses are very form fitting.” Agatha sympathized. I had spent the last year embroidering the birds and wildflowers on the estate to appliqué them to my festival dress. I was saving what they looked like in my muscle memory, so even if I was far away after my moon ceremony I would still remember what they looked like. Agatha got me buttoned in. I stood looking in the mirror, not recognizing myself. “Ah!” Agatha gasped. “You’re so grown! If only your father were here to see the young lady you have blossomed into.” I smiled to stop the tears
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