Beneath Ceaseless Skies | The Rug-Maker and the Wonder Collector by Emily McIntyre
The iris she was born with, a color I have only seen underground in the Great Temple of my people lavished in the storytelling murals, a color that has become my favorite since I met her. But also the black pupil—property of XCorp, almost human but not quite, recording every curly hair that falls over my face, every flutter of my breath, every tremble of my lips—taking away the privacy of the moment even as it occurs.