Cassia was up well before the dawn.

This was it. The last day of her twenty-third year. The first day of her future.

She knelt before the fresco of Corlana, staring at her goddess. The only thing left to her was to pray. 

Julianus—her heart warmed, then twinged at the thought of him—had taught her how to defend herself. Etain had—unwillingly—taught her the basics of the Brunian language, which, Cassia had been relieved to find, shared many characteristics with Mortanian.

Now it was up to her. Her success now lay completely in her own strength, skill and determination. It was a more terrifying thought than she had ever realized.

Her mind stayed empty, no matter how she tried to focus. She was unsure of what to say, even to her goddess. Begging for Corlana's aid felt wrong, somehow. This trial was hers and hers alone, to prove—not just to her father but to the gods themselves—that she was worthy of the throne they had granted her family.

Cassia swallowed against the nerves swelling her throat and stood, making a slow circle around the temple to study the scenes painted into the very walls. She stopped at the image of Corlana standing before a kneeling Auralius. The adoration on his face softened his harsh features into handsomeness. A silver mist floated around the goddess and the man, his golden eyes burning as he stared up at Lady Fate.

"Protect and guide his path if you cannot guide my own," she found herself whispering. "Watch over my sworn warrior, for I believe I will need him before this is done."

The words felt right as she said them, bringing the peace she had been seeking since she had arrived at the temple. As long as he stayed alive—for she knew it was impossible to wish him safe—she would be able to fight her way through any obstacle. Their oath bound them together, his strength was now hers.

What she offered him in return, she didn't really know.

A soft knock sounded on the door, followed by Claudia's soft voice. "It is time, Your Highness."

Cassia let out a slow breath, taking one more moment to stare at her fore-bearer and her goddess. "Help me strengthen your throne," she whispered. "Grace me with courage."

Now that she had no time, words and prayers flooded her mind. She swallowed her nerves once again, bowed to the image of Corlana staring into Fate's Waters and slipped quietly from the temple.

Claudia gave her a strained smile, Antonia and Drusilla grave and pale behind her. Cassia opened her mouth, wanting to provide some sort of comfort, but once again the words escaped her. So she simply returned Claudia's smile, nodding at the other two before they made their way from the temple.

The sky was gloomy overhead, mist swirling between the trees and over the pale path. Cassia pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair, tugging the warm, green velvet closer over her long nightgown. 

They trailed silently into the castle, which was busier than usual for such an early hour. Cassia's fingers knotted into her cloak but she kept her chin high and her gaze straight as she felt the whispers buzz over her skin. 

She was why they were all awake so early. They wouldn't want to miss a chance to gawk. 

Cassia didn't pay them any mind as she led the way to her rooms. There was one last formality that must be observed before she could leave the castle and truly start her trial.

She only stumbled once, right as she reached the stairs leading up to the residential wings. Elias stood in the shadows of a hall that would lead more deeply into the administrative section of the castle. He met her gaze for a moment, his mouth opening like he would say something.

Unease stirred in her heart, but she stepped toward him, wanting to mend any of the broken things between them if she could.

Last chances were highly motivating, she was finding.

Then Elias shook his head and turned, disappearing into the shadows of the hall behind him. Cassia sighed, her heart aching for what they both had lost, but she just turned back, her steps heavy as she ascended the stairs.

They reached her rooms and Claudia took the lead, ushering Cassia into her dressing room. Cassia removed her cloak, then shed her nightgown. Drusilla helped her slide into a linen shift that barely came down to the middle of her thighs. Her skin pebbled, the chill in the air making her shiver in the thin underclothes.

The rustle of heavy silk met her ears, but Cassia didn't look toward Claudia and Antonia. Nerves were beginning to make her feel nauseous, her throat tight with apprehension.

The beginning of her trial had seemed much more exciting when it was an entire year away.

Drusilla helped her step into the gown, and then Cassia closed her eyes as the buttons at the front were done up and the skirts fluffed out. It rested heavily on her shoulders, weighed down with rubies and white diamonds sewn in spiraling patterns over the skirt, the bodice and woven into the scarlet embroidery swirling down the long, sheer sleeves.

Then Claudia took her hand gently, leading her to the chair in front of her vanity. Cassia looked up in time to watch Antonia wipe discreetly at her eyes before Claudia said, "Girls, please make sure Her Highness has a proper breakfast."

Both Antonia and Drusilla hesitated, eyes lined with silver as they looked at her. Cassia's own eyes burned in response as she whispered, "Thank you."

The words held so much more meaning than she could manage to say in the moment. She had never realized how much these women cared for her. She had never bothered to realize it and had efficiently cheated herself out of a friendship that would have made her time in the castle more bearable.

Both ladies smiled at her like they understood everything she couldn't say before slipping quietly from the dressing room. Cassia slumped into the chair, and she must have looked as dejected as she felt, because Claudia didn't so much as sniff at her poor posture.

Her hands were featherlight on Cassia's hair as she brushed and twisted and pinned her hair into an elaborate corona. Cassia nearly begged her to forgo studding her hair with jewels, but held her tongue.

Claudia wasn't to be blamed for traditional spectacles. 

By the time she was done, Cassia's head felt nearly five times as heavy and her hair glittered with every movement. Rubies, diamonds and garnets shimmered along strands of gold that Claudia had cleverly twined through her braids.

A veritable collar of gold and rubies was put around her throat, gold rings were slipped onto each finger except the third on her left hand. Bracelets of blood-red garnets circled her wrists. Cassia had never really noticed just how heavy such jewels were.

Gold powder was dusted onto her cheeks and eyelids, and her lips were rouged a brilliant red.

The overall effect was rather terrifying in Cassia's opinion.

Claudia ran a last, critical eye over her, and Cassia got the feeling that her lady was no more pleased with her appearance than she herself was. But there was nothing to be done, and it would be over soon enough. With a sigh, Claudia fixed a bit of smudged powder on her eyelid, then clasped her wrist gently.

Cassia looked at the older woman in surprise. Claudia's olive-green eyes were serious and—if Cassia wasn't mistaken—a bit damp. This woman had been more of a mother to her than her own ever had. The overwhelming urge to embrace her crashed over Cassia.

"You know what you are doing." It was not a question.

Cassia spent a moment blinking at Claudia in confusion until her meaning became clear. She straightened her spine beneath the weight of the silk and jewels—beneath the weight of her wealth—and nodded firmly. "Yes."

Her lady reached forward and smoothed a curl at Cassia's temple that was already perfect, then stepped back, folding her hands neatly in front of her waist. It was all the affection either of them could afford in this last moment.

Cassia nodded her thanks, then left the dressing room, Claudia trailing behind. Antonia and Drusilla had not returned yet, but that suited Cassia well enough. She didn't believe eating was going to be a possibility today. Not with how her stomach knotted around her uncertainty.

Now that it was here, she didn't really know if she could do this. Didn't know if it was even possible for her to survive much less return triumphant.

Cassia bit down hard on those thoughts, keeping them contained since she could not seem to banish them completely.

She brushed her fingers across the calluses that graced the tops of her palms. Proof that she was not helpless. Silently, she recited the few key phrases Etain had drilled into her head. Proof that she was not ignorant. She thought of Julianus' oath. Proof that she was not alone, no matter how far away she went. 

Her anxiety was eased only partially, but it was still eased and she sat gingerly on the edge of one of the chairs in the drawing room. 

There was a small flurry of motion as Drusilla and Antonia returned, breakfast in tow. The hearty scent of porridge filled the air, sweetened with honey and cinnamon. As the food was set before her, Cassia found chunks of dried apple in the porridge. A bowl of silky cream was set to the side and practically dissolved into the porridge as Cassia added first one, then another heaping spoonful.

"Eat well, Your Highness," Claudia said softly, more conservative in her own usage of the cream.

Cassia looked up to find the unspoken words on all of her ladies' faces. This might be the last good meal she had for three years. She should make it count.

So she forced herself to eat, wanting to savor the meal, but unable to actually taste what she put in her mouth. By the time she finished, the sun had broken over the horizon, gilding the land beyond her window.

It was time.

Nausea coming back in full force, Cassia smoothed a hand down the skirt of her dress, resisting the urge to pick nervously at the embroidery there. She took a long, slow breath that did nothing at all to calm her and turned resolutely to the door.

One last spectacle.

Her ladies followed her silently through the halls, all of them ignoring the murmuring nobility. Cassia caught expressions ranging from horror to disbelief and a laugh attempted to bubble its way out of her throat. Their shock was almost comical. No one, it seemed, had believed she would really go through with this.

None of them believed she would claim her birthright. 

This made her straighten her spine even more and lift her chin proudly. Not only had she been born to the throne, she would prove she deserved to sit upon it.

She lengthened her stride as much as she could without accidentally dislodging her hair. The sooner this was done, the better.

Or that's what she told herself until the doors to the throne room came into view. Her steps faltered for half a second and she nearly tripped as the palace guards lining the way forward turned their heads as one to look at her.

Grace, she prayed. Strength and courage.

Her heart was thumping hard in her chest, her palms becoming slick with sweat. She could feel every single pair of eyes in that hallway slipping over her skin. Her breath came faster and her mouth went dry.

The doors leading into the throne room opened and her skin turned to ice.

King Durus stood in front of the throne, a heavy, ancient crown on his head and an even older sword at his side. Cassia's eyes went to the blade.

Corensis. Fate's Sword. The ancient weapon wielded by Auralius himself.

It was something she had coveted nearly her whole life. More than the crown or even the throne, the sword was the empire's true symbol of power. 

Whoever held Corensis held Metus.

A rustle of movement to her left tore her attention away from the sacred blade. Beside the throne, her mother and all five of her brothers stood watching her. 

Cassia didn't flinch away from their stares, looking at each family member in turn. Her mother was pale, mouth a tight line that betrayed her displeasure. Malitech had a snarl on his face, his arms crossed as he made sure to not so much as glance in her direction.

Marcus lounged against the wall, just a little behind the rest of them. A half-smile curved his lips, his honey eyes glinting in the morning light. Slowly, he inclined his head. Cassia blinked once, but didn't have much room for surprise. When he looked up, that smirk had grown, but his eyes were shadowed and serious.

Trajan and Hadrian were huddled together, looking at her with wide eyes. They didn't seem to know quite what to think. She offered them a small smile and they both looked at each other, then trained their eyes on the floor.

A trill of unease ran through her suddenly, sharper than what she was already feeling. A phantom echo of running feet and the smell of blood overwhelmed her for a moment.

"Casa."

The whispered name jolted her from her own head. She blinked hard, watching Trajan and Hadrian for a second longer before she turned to find Quintus watching her from beside his governess. 

The boy's usually cheerful face was somber, his eye wide. Before his governess could grab him, he darted forward.

A murmur ran through the crowded nobles as she dropped to her knees, gathering her youngest brother in her arms. He threw his arms around her neck, tears hot on her throat.

"I don't want you to leave," he whispered, sniffling quietly, like he was trying to hold his tears back. "What if you don't come back?"

The backs of Cassia's eyes burned, her throat strangling her voice into a hoarse whisper. "I must go, Quintus." She stroked a trembling hand over his hair, holding him tighter. 

"You have to go like Auralis," he said, his small voice too serious. "Like the story."

She nodded, feeling his small heart beating hard in his chest. "And I'll come back, just like he did."

He sniffled again and pulled back, looking her in the eyes. "You promise?"

"I promise," she whispered before brushing a kiss on his forehead. He hugged her again before turning and darting back to his governess' side, his head down to hide his face.

Cassia swallowed hard against her own tears and got back to her feet, turning resolutely to the king. His face was like stone, the only evidence of his fury the white-knuckles grip he had on Corensis' hilt.

It was comforting, in a rather odd way, that some things never changed.

The king's mouth tightened. Cassia ran her thumb over the warm metal of the rings on her fingers, waiting. It was not a surprise when he said, "Consider your choices, Cassia. Beyond today, they are permanent and will be deadly."

The nobles murmured their agreement, whispering that she wouldn't survive so much as a day beyond the walls. She didn't bother to look at them.

She smiled at her father. "Perhaps," she said. "But not for me."

More murmuring ensued. Her father glared at her, his mouth thinning into a stubborn line. It was almost surprising that he was being so reluctant to complete this first step. If he really believed she would not survive this trial, why bother with the hesitation.

Unless... 

Cassia let her gaze flick to Marcus. He was watching with a raised eyebrow. Was it possible their father had taken his son's warning to heart? Had something somehow changed his mind. She looked back at the king, making sure to keep her expression perfectly serene.

He couldn't stop her.

Still, the silence stretched on as the king refused to say the words that would set Cassia free.

So she took matters into her own hands, just one gesture away from being beyond her father's reach. With a last breath to brace herself, she said, "As the gods' Heir, I declare my desire for the throne." She reached to the back of her neck and unclipped the heavy collar of gold and rubies. "I declare myself willing to undergo their trials, to prove I am no less than the first of us."

She dropped the necklace to the ground, then began to strip the rings from her fingers. The king  still refused to voice the next question. Cassia answered anyway. The rings clattered to the marble floor, bouncing and chiming off the stone. She started on the jewels in her hair, dropping them by twos and threes to the ground.

"I willingly discard the wealth of my father," she said, precious jewels spilling to the ground at her feet with every word. "I renounce my own title and cast off the privileges of my position."

Her hair, now thoroughly dismantled, spilled around her shoulders in soft waves. Cassia carefully plucked the last few ruby pins from her hair, tossing them to the ground, her eyes never leaving her father's.

The silence had become deafening.

She swallowed against her dry throat, her hands shaking as they went to the buttons of her dress. A collective breath was sucked in as she began to undo them, one by one.

"I swear to go into the world with no advantage other than those things granted me by the gods themselves," she said, her voice steady even though her fingers weren't. "I swear to ask no aid."

The last button was undone and she brought her hands to her shoulders. A blush was already burning her cheeks at the number of eyes she could feel locked on her. But she refused to let her shoulders curl forward.

"I swear to move through the world by the virtue of my strength, my will and my courage." Cassia pulled at the dress, refusing to shudder as it slipped from her shoulders. "To return with the scars and skill that will prove my worthiness." 

The dress flowed to the ground, a pool of scarlet at her feet. She shifted her feet while they were hidden in the puddled fabric, removing her slippers before she stepped away from the rich silk and the piled jewels.

In nothing but the linen shift, she lifted her chin and stared at her father, daring him to keep his silence. She let every challenge and dismissal and argument between them rage in her eyes. 

A final murmur rippled through the crowd—a sound of surprise and what might have been awe. 

The king blinked, appearing taken aback for a moment before he sneered. He took a step toward her and finally spoke the words he was supposed to say. "The gods will decide your worthiness. Go from here and know that your failure will not be the end of the empire. It will only be the end of you."

Cassia clenched her muscles to keep from shivering.

The king pointed to the doors behind her. "The gods are watching, Heir."

Cassia whirled, her hair swirling down her back as she strode down the hall, the linen shift barely enough to provide her some dignity. Try as she might, she could not ignore the lustful gazes that trailed over her exposed skin like oil.

Her feet slapped against the cold marble, her hair tickling her bare shoulders and arms. Cassia had to force herself not to run, her stride long now that she was unencumbered by heavy skirts. The doors opened and she didn't flinch from the widening eyes of each guard who stared as she passed.

To her surprise, some stopped staring long enough to bow their heads.

Soon, Cassia was leaving the hall and the staring eyes behind. Her hands were still shaking, but her heart had found a steady beat. She resisted the urge to tug the hem of the shift down with every step.

She made her way to the main doors of the castle, trying to brace herself for the cold.

A blast of winter air when the doors were opened made her gasp, her skin pulling tight across her entire body in protest. Still, she kept her hands clenched in fists at her sides and her head high even as the wind whipped her hair into a dark flag streaming behind her.

It surprised her when she met Priest Marius at the bottom of the steps. She paused, foot hovering over the gravel of the pathway that would lead her to the gates.

Marius held a stack of clothes in his hands. His eyes were grim as he took in her near-nakedness.

"Not even Auralius went into the world unclothed, Your Highness," the head priest said, offering the clothes to her.

Cassia bit her lip, hesitating, the words of her oath still ringing in her head and buzzing on her tongue. Like Marius could read her very thoughts, he smiled and said, "Am I not sent by the gods?"

A wry laugh was pulled from her at the wiliness of that statement. One could hardly argue that a priest of such high standing was not aid provided by the gods themselves. 

And her feet were beginning to go numb. Cassia took the clothes, doing her best to give a grateful smile instead of a miserable grimace. She shook out the bundle to find a plain, wool dress dyed a dull olive green. Moving as quickly as her shivering muscles would allow, she tugged the dress on over her head, sighing in relief as the wind was kept from biting at the sensitive skin of her thighs and midsection. 

Marius then offered her a pair of sturdy shoes and thick stockings.

Cassia's fingers were clumsy with the early morning cold as she tugged on the stockings. Finally, she managed to slip her feet into the shoes, wincing as the leather pinched her frozen toes.

Next, he offered her a damp cloth. It was icy as she cleaned the rouge from her lips and the golden powder from her cheeks and eyelids.

"May the gods bless you, my princess," Marius said before he bowed his head, tucking his hands into the drooping sleeves of his robes. "May you show this world that the gods set us on hard paths for our own good, for strength and courage cannot grow without adversity."

"Thank you," Cassia barely managed to whisper, unable to tell if her eyes blurred with tears or with the cold wind.

She stepped onto the path, watching for a moment as the sun broke over the lip of the wall, sending spears of clear, golden light across the grounds. Cassia watched as the frost limning the gardens turned from silver to lacy gold, then closed her eyes and sent up her own, short prayer. 

A gentle wind nudged at her shoulder, pushing her forward. Cassia opened her eyes and took a step. Then another.

Another, another, another, until she was running, loose hair flying free behind her. Her lungs burned with the cold air and her muscles groaned.

But her heart sang.

This was her path to tread. Her trial to triumph over.

Nothing but the gods themselves would be able to stop her.