Her mother made her into a painted doll, but Mal saw something different. She saw lips red with enemy blood. She saw delicacy as an illusion, beauty as a diversion. Mal turned seductive into seduction: it was an art and a weapon. With Mal, Evie wore not makeup, but warpaint.
:::
There's strips of cloth fastening scraps of leather to the bottoms of their feet where the soles of their shoes have worn through. Bloody bandages tied over their raw, split knuckles. Jay tries to joke with Mal, saying these wraps are the only thing keeping them together. Mal smiles emptily.