'Dancing, reading, posture, on top of collecting Mana while preserving what little energy I can get from this molten fungus brew - how am I supposed to do all that?' Rowena spun her thoughts around, trying to dismiss them, thinking it was only two days.

But it was two days of excruciating hunger and dizziness while pretending to be fine. She couldn't attract the wrong attention right now, because she didn't have a secure position yet.

People knew she could use some Mana, but no one had examined her yet because she was a girl. They didn't expect her to want to join the army, so her ability to handle Mana merely raised her stock a bit.

So if no one actually examined her to find out her level of expertise, she should be fine. Being so dizzy with a minuscule amount of Mana didn't fit into that calculation, though. This fact made coming out and telling the truth about her condition a bit complicated.

Rowena was about to open her mouth and curse the air around her when someone opened the doors to their so-called "sanctuary" behind her.

"Lady Rowena," one of the temple nuns called to her, "are you ready? The ceremony is about to take place, and I shall have you prepared." The great doors closed again as she stepped inside, shutting out the world around the two of them.

The plain white gown she was allowed to wear during her bath stuck to her ivory skin as she climbed up the stairs made out of stone, before the sister put a towel around her shoulders. She dried her and helped her into her ceremonial robe.

It was barely more fancy than the dress she had bathed in, but it was a bit more form-fitting, instead of just a shapeless white sack with sleeves attached. It was white as well, with neatly woven gold threads underlining her bosom. Her hair, which had been pulled up to prevent it from getting wet, was now freshly falling onto the coarse white fabric.

The hem was longer in the back, so it dragged on the floor behind her until the sister picked it up. This would prevent it from getting dirty when they entered the courtyard and walked over to the main mess hall.

There was a bit of hesitation coming from the noble lady, as the sister, Clara, could tell. As she held the hem of her dress, it was easy to see that her steps swayed a little.

"There is nothing to be afraid of, my lady," Clara reassured the noble who was about to be recognized as a woman in society, "quite the opposite. With Aurora watching, there is nothing to fear."

"Right," Rowena replied quickly over her shoulder, feeling lightheaded after leaving the cold bath and returning to the mild temperatures outside while still feeling weak, "there will always be a new dawn, so there's nothing to be afraid of." She really just said whatever came to mind.

But Clara was pleased and smiled with her rosy cheeks. "That's how it is, my lady. She will always guide us."

"Right, right..." She really wasn't in the mood for a theology lesson, so she had to swallow a sigh and steady her gait.

In front of her now was a new pair of much too large doors, beautifully decorated and grand looking, which made it all the more special when they opened to reveal a brightly lit hall. Flower petals swayed dramatically in the air, accompanying the deep and rousing chords of the organ playing in the background.

At the end of the aisle, Vicar Arnaldo, now in his primary position as Bishop, was waiting patiently. He had the same stern expression on his face as he had two days before. It was the first time they had seen each other since then.

On the rows in front, she could see a few heads she recognized. Though this was largely a well-celebrated tradition, there was no one but family present at these parts of the debut.

Her father and brothers were there, Beatrice too, even Arabella. Her maids sat one row behind the family they served. It somehow made her feel a little more secure, although she wasn't really insecure in her own eyes.

Clara chuckled softly as she watched the change in the noble lady's demeanor, then let go of the end of her dress to return to the other clerics standing along the wall by the entrance.

As the person everyone was waiting for, Rowena picked up her pace, but not so fast as to seem rushed or inappropriate. When she reached the front, she smiled politely.

"State your name, child," the Bishop said.

"Rowena Dynari van Varnhagen is standing here in front of you."

He nodded, took a chalice that stood near the altar, and motioned for Rowena to kneel. To put this part into perspective, Rowena compared it to a knighting ceremony, as she had read about them in the novel, while no one ever made their debut during the story.

During an accolade, a soon-to-be knight would go down on one knee. Priests and people who had their coming of age ceremony were supposed to be on both knees, just like Rowena was now.

The reason for this was the position they were in, relating to the Goddess. A knight was never completely under the Church, he was always meant to serve a master, who might not be the Church at all.

A Priest, on the other hand, was meant to be completely subservient. And an unaffiliated person was still expected to grovel at the feet of their holiness. It was to receive all the light of the Goddess as one stands before her not as a proud individual, but as a mere beggar before the Lord.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

'That's also why Priests have no family names, and not even middle names left. Except for the Pope, technically, because he earned his name back with the position closest to God.' She thought about it for a moment. 'Imagine paying a fortune to get your child baptized, only for the name to be chucked as soon as they enter priesthood. That's a scam.'

'I'm not sure if they recognize this as a problem.'

'Bottom line, Pan. Even if they don't realize it, it's still some kind of fraud, isn't it?' Since Priests usually had noble or at least more influential positions in society, seeing as most people were once blessed with that status because of their Mana. 'You want them to become Priests, but you first sell them magical placebos.'

Then again, a lot of Priests outide of the Churches clutches still used their names, like Logan Randall, for convenience. The Numbered didn't say anything more about it either, and Rowena had to concentrate on the events in front of her now, so her attention was taken off of the topic.

"I rejoice to see you, a child who was once baptized under the grace of our benevolent Goddess, return to our lap. Like a sheep separated from its flock, from now on you will forge your own path in the world." Arnaldo held up a golden goblet filled with something as red as blood. "But you shall not fear. On this journey, let Aurora bless you, for even in the darkest hour of the night, a new day will dawn on the horizon."

He let his hands with the chalice come down again and handed it to the still kneeling Rowena, who had heard about the general schedule and everything she was supposed to do. This ceremony was going to be a quick one if everything went as planned.

The stench of the liquid in the goblet was sharp. It was wine, as she had been told. This was an initiation into her adulthood, after all, so it was to be expected.

She took a moderate sip, fighting the urge to grimace at the bitterness, swallowed, handed the glorified golden cup back to Arnaldo, and took his other hand to stand up as gracefully as possible.

'Damn, my knees. They really could have put a pillow on the marble floor, couldn't they?' She wasn't entirely happy with her first taste of alcohol either. 'Does it always taste this rancid, or was this one particularly disgusting in order to mess with me?'

She really couldn't wait for the banquet tonight, if only for the prospect of having some meat to sink her teeth into. Maybe being a wallflower and getting to hang out at the buffet wasn't such a bad plan after all. Should she say no to Lucan?

"With this last oath, your future is laid out for you. Please place your hand on this holy scripture."

With her head in the clouds, she barely noticed what was happening around her. Hastily, she did as she was told, clearing her throat as she did so.

The book was old and felt like it would disintegrate if she tampered with it in any way. There was nothing special about it, though. Still, she had put her hand on it, so all she had to do was pray.

'What they want me to do is to have a silent talk with Aurora. Tell her what your dreams are, inform her of the paths you want to take - all that shit. It's supposed to help Aurora show you the way.' She would have rolled her eyes if they weren't closed right now. 'Seriously, if your almighty god needs to be told where you're going to help you along the way with his omniscience, that omniscience is probably not to be trusted anyway. The logic is flawed to the bone, but who am I to judge?'

After waiting a few more moments, she removed her hand and opened her eyes.

"Are you finished already?" Arnaldo asked.

"I am. I feel very confident about my future," the woman replied, 'because I will be taking it into my own hands.' That last part didn't need to be said out loud, of course.

It was true that a lot of things had gotten out of hand lately, but for now, she was aware of what was to come, for these were the events she had read about. Everything so far was so far away from the original protagonists; it was bound to be different from what she knew, even without any changes.

She was still no idiot, it was clear as day that things had been different, but there was no telling how much she had actually changed, just by existing and taking the place of a character once lost, since there was nothing for her to compare the situations she had been in.

The rest of the ceremony passed over her head like a blur. Arnaldo gave a little sermon while Rowena tried not to fall asleep standing upright. The audience was quiet, even Arabella, though her impatience was obvious to everyone in the hall.

"Lady van Varnhagen, it has been an honor to guide you through this important step in your life."

"Right... the honor is mine, Bishop Arnaldo."

As everyone else in the hall rose for a final prayer, Rowena was eager to get out of the itchy, scratchy dress she was wearing that could only be removed at home. If only she could get there quicker.

There was only one thing she hadn't considered when she finally stepped back onto the front lawn. A black-haired male acolyte, standing by her carriage, as if to help her inside, as a Holy Knight normally would.

"Congratulations, my lady," he said, his forest green eyes shining brightly as he held out his hand, "I also came to inquire about your thoughts on my proposal the other day." He really didn't hold back.

With a subtle glance over her shoulder, she could confirm that her brothers and father were reacting to his words. Her father and Colin wouldn't necessarily know who this young man was, but Alan obviously did.

Right, she had wanted to ask them, but she didn't. "Sadly, I didn't get a chance to ask His Grace about it."

"Ask me about what?" the dark voice could be heard from behind her. She was standing up front, for she was the "star" of the evening, with the others following behind her, trying not to step on her dress.

"It is an honor for me to stand before such a formidable man as you, Grand Duke of Varnhagen," Lucan said, and Rowena felt as if he was buttering him up.

Still, the man of few words that was her father didn't react, instead he waited for his daughter's explanation.

"Imperial Prince Lucan has asked me to attend the Victory Banquet with him as his partner." This time she turned around, but of course he avoided her eyes and looked at the young prince instead.

Since he wasn't looking at her, Rowena scanned the rest of her "family" to find out what they were thinking. Alan, as always, had a complicated expression on his face, while Colin just wrinkled his nose and crossed his arms over his chest in contemplative disapproval.

Beatrice maintained a neutral posture that seemed to fit her usual personality. Only Arabella stood out, in a way, with her eyes sparkling with eagerness at Lucan.

Easily ignoring them, Rowena had to make a decision herself. It wasn't a difficult one, as there weren't many options for her, and even if standing around and emptying the buffet sounded like a dream come true, she knew that being a wallflower wasn't a good way to start her new life.

She wanted to live a good life, that was her ultimate goal, and this banquet would be her true starting point. To make an impression, to make connections, to build a foundation to have a secure position so that nobody could throw her around like a volleyball.

'And going to your own debut with your brother or a house knight is the fundament to becoming a laughing stock at best.' Shaking her head as the people around her remained silent for a while, she looked back and forth between her father and the Imperial Prince. "I wish to go with him, Your Grace."