We were all too enchanted to breathe when Lady Rozemyne did it.
Again, the musicians started to play. I noticed the volume was lower than before and that someone else was singing this time. A quick glance revealed an empty seat with a harspiel resting beside it.
Lord Ferdinand must have left.
He had sung so beautifully during Lady Rozemyne’s performance, but now he was gone, neither among the musicians nor atop the stage. I thought to ask my brother about it, but he was too focused on Lady Eglantine’s dance.
My voice would only fall on deaf ears.
I tried to put Lord Ferdinand out of my mind and instead joined my brother in watching Lady Eglantine perform. Her dance lacked the ethereal divinity of the previous act but was wonderful nonetheless. Had we judged them on technique alone, she would certainly have come out on top.
The magic circle grew as Lady Eglantine whirled, as did the same bright columns. My stomach churned when the statues refused to budge, and while they did eventually move near the very end of her performance, the worst was yet to come—even after finishing her dance and praying to the gods, she remained atop the stage.
“She didn’t vanish... Does that mean she failed...?”
“No, the gods atop the shrine seem to be inviting her...”
Worried murmurs spread that Lady Eglantine had not been recognized as a true Zent candidate. In the midst of their dread, Hartmut stepped forward and pointed to the top of the shrine.
“The path to the gods has opened,” he announced. “Lady Eglantine—the gods await.”
She had not disappeared, but the path having opened meant she had received the gods’ approval. A wave of relief washed over the room.
Lady Eglantine raised her head, stood, and then turned toward the shrine. She seemed more charming than ever now that she had opened the path to the gods and proven her worth as a Zent candidate.
Prince Anastasius ascended the stage and took his wife’s hand. He tried to escort her all the way to the top of the shrine but only made it so far before he was stopped by a hidden barrier. Lady Eglantine had to proceed alone.
“I suppose only those who complete the ritual can ascend the shrine...” I whispered.
“Or only those deemed worthy of becoming the next Zent,” Father replied. There was an unmistakable weight to his observation, like he wanted me to read between the lines, but I was unsure what he was alluding to.
Lady Eglantine passed the statues of the supreme gods, which were now facing each other, and continued through the entrance atop the shrine. No sooner had she disappeared than the statues returned to their original positions.
“Ooh...”
Young and old, this transference ceremony was a new experience for us all. Awed murmurs once again spread through the room.
“That was truly a splendid dedication whirl,” one said. “I would never have guessed that a dance performed during one’s graduation served such a remarkable purpose. I wondered what the Academy was thinking when it held those Dedication Rituals, but I see now that the gods must have desired them.”
“So this is how power was transferred in ancient times...” mused another. “I feel blessed to have seen an avatar of Mestionora with my own eyes and to have experienced her divine power.”
“I was doubtful when she was first referred to as a divine avatar, but after seeing her in person, I agree that there is no better descriptor.”
Nearly everyone was talking about Lady Rozemyne. On the odd occasion that Lady Eglantine was mentioned, it was only to describe her as a “safe choice” for the throne, since she had the divine avatar’s approval.
Lestilaut sighed. “I suspect they meant to demonstrate that a divine avatar holds more status than the new Zent, but still... I wish they had whirled in the opposite order.”
I agreed. Lady Eglantine’s dance was superb. She had successfully activated the circle, created pillars of light, and moved the statues. Had she been first to dance, the audience would surely have been moved by the birth of a new Zent. Instead, she had needed to follow an even more mystical performance by Lady Rozemyne.
“Lord Ferdinand remarked that things seldom go to plan when Lady Rozemyne is involved...” Mother said. “It would seem he was correct.”
“Hmm? Something went wrong?” I asked.
She gave a troubled smile, and the empty chair among the musicians returned to my mind. I gazed around the room, worried, but could not see Lord Ferdinand anywhere. My attention moved next to Lady Rozemyne’s retainers, who were watching from Ahrensbach’s seats. Some of them had vanished as well.
As my thoughts ran rampant, Hartmut, Lady Rozemyne’s vassal, started praying atop the stage. Nothing about his countenance indicated an abrupt change of schedule or a reason to fret about Lady Rozemyne or Lord Ferdinand.
I watched the shrine, but the statues did not move again. Perhaps neither Lady Rozemyne nor Lady Eglantine would return from their audience with the gods. I grew more and more anxious while the other nobles rejoiced at the birth of a new Zent.
“Silence!” Hartmut shouted, his voice cutting through the buzz of the room. “The new Zent and Lady Rozemyne, the Divine Avatar of Mestionora, return!”
The statues moved at last, and the path to the gods opened once more. The entire auditorium went silent as we all gazed up at the topmost level of the shrine. Lady Eglantine returned first, then Lady Rozemyne. The latter’s abrupt disappearance had made me skeptical that they had both received the same invitation, but seeing them together blew the last doubts from my mind.
Lady Eglantine took Lady Rozemyne by the hand, and together they descended the shrine. The divine power radiating from Lady Rozemyne felt even stronger than before.
“Ngh...” Lestilaut groaned. “Why was I denied my utensils?!”
“Because it would seem rude—and perhaps even blasphemous—if you started drawing during this most holy of ceremonies,” I replied. He was so desperate to capture this moment on paper that I feared he might do something embarrassing.
“It seems even more blasphemous to leave this ceremony unpainted. I must return to my room at once and—”
Lestilaut had tried to stand when Mother gave him an icy smile. “I will permit you to leave in silence, but the ceremony has not concluded,” she said. “Would it not be most blasphemous to miss the passing of the Grutrissheit, the most wonderful part of our being here? Of course, if you continue to act in a manner that will shame us, I will send you out whether you want it or not.”
He sat back down and took a deep breath. Mother had an intense look in her eye that said, “Keep quiet if you want to see the rest of the ceremony.”
“So my only choice is to burn the sight into my memory...” my brother concluded. “Very well. I was born for this.” He kept his eyes as wide as they would go and stared intently at Lady Eglantine and Lady Rozemyne. I was struck with the urge to scoot to the far edge of my seat.
Mother! For everyone’s sake, have him escorted out immediately!
✦ ✦ ✦
