9 - Tested
The wagon finally slowed with a long groan of wheels and a snap of reins. Mariana jolted upright, nearly headbutting a sack of turnips.
"Market stop!" the driver barked.
Voices flooded in-bright, overlapping, alive.
She waited until the tarp lifted and the driver climbed down.
When he turned to haggle with a porter, Mariana seized her chance.
She rolled-gracefully would be a lie-off the back of the wagon and landed in a crouch behind stacked crates.
No one screamed. No one pointed. No one shouted, "That is the Grand Princess! " She exhaled slowly.
"I'm free," she whispered.
For now.
---
The capital of Forebros unfolded before her like a living painting.
Mariana stepped out from behind the crates and into the main thoroughfare-and promptly forgot to breathe.
The streets were wide and paved with pale stone, warmed by the afternoon sun.
Market stalls lined both sides, their awnings striped in deep blues and creams. Vendors called out cheerfully, advertising honeyed pastries, polished brass trinkets, embroidered scarves, and fresh river fish shimmering in woven baskets.
Children darted between adults with sticky fingers and laughter.
A pair of musicians near a fountain played lively strings and flute, their melody bouncing joyfully through the air.
Somewhere nearby, someone was roasting chestnuts; the scent mingled with warm bread and floral perfume drifting from a flower cart.
Mariana turned slowly, eyes wide. She had lived in this city her entire life. And yet, she had never walked it like this. Not surrounded by guards. Not announced by trumpets. Not filtered through carriage curtains. Just... walking. No one bowed. No one whispered. No one measured their words.
A baker's apprentice bumped lightly into her shoulder. "Sorry!" he said without even looking at her face before hurrying on.
Mariana stared after him, stunned.
He didn't apologize like I'm royalty.
A strange warmth bloomed in her chest. It felt... nice.
She wandered without direction, absorbing everything. An elderly couple argued amiably over the ripeness of apples. A group of seamstresses laughed as they compared fabrics. A merchant handed a coin back to a child who had overpaid.
There was harmony here. Not forced politeness. Not political tension. Just people living. For the first time since remembering her doomed fate, Mariana's shoulders relaxed.
Maybe this world isn't just a script, maybe it's real.
Her feet eventually carried her toward the tallest structure visible above the rooftops-a cathedral-like chapel built from ivory stone, its spires reaching gracefully toward the sky. The sun struck its stained-glass windows, scattering jewel-toned light across the steps. She stopped at the base.
The Chapel of Luminaris, Archangel of Goddess Astrid. Even from afar, it radiated serenity. Almost unconsciously, she climbed the steps.
---
Inside, the world softened.
Cool air embraced her flushed skin. The scent of incense lingered faintly, clean and calming.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass panels depicting celestial figures, bathing the interior in shifting mosaics of red, gold, and sapphire.
And gold. Everything shimmered faintly in a golden hue.
Candlesticks. Carved pillars. The altar at the far end of the hall. Mariana blinked.
Is it just the light?
She took another step forward. The air felt.
.. heavier. Warmer. Like something was aware of her.
She swallowed and approached the rows of polished pews.
A handful of citizens knelt in quiet prayer.
No one paid her attention. Yet the golden glow seemed to intensify with each step she took toward the altar. Her pulse quickened.
This is dramatic. Why is this dramatic?
A flicker of light shimmered along the edges of the altar cloth. Mariana froze.
"...You see it too, don't you?"
She nearly jumped out of her skin. A thin man in modest priest robes stood near a side pillar, adjusting a small silver monocle perched on his nose. He looked young-perhaps only a few years older than her-with sandy hair and sharp, observant eyes.
"I-what?" she stammered.
He gestured subtly toward the altar. "The glow."
She hesitated.
Lie. You're a maid. You're normal.
"...The sun?" she tried weakly.
The priest stared at her. The golden light flickered brighter. A candle flame bent toward her. His monocle glinted. "...Fascinating."
Oh no.
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Miss, forgive my forwardness. But would you consent to a brief evaluation?"
Mariana blinked.
"Evaluation?"
"For divine affinity."
Her brain screeched to a halt.
Divine affinity test?
"No," she said immediately.
He did not look offended. "If you truly possess none, the crystal will remain dormant. You lose nothing."
The glow pulsed again. A woman kneeling nearby glanced up, frowning faintly at the strange lighting shift. The priest's eyes sharpened. "However," he added softly, "if you possess even a fragment of holy resonance... we must document it."
Document it?? That sounded dangerously official.
"I'm very busy," Mariana said, edging sideways.
The gold shimmer followed her. His brows rose. "Miss."
She bolted for the exit. He did not chase her. Instead, he said calmly: "The light is responding to you."
She stopped mid-step.
It... was.
The stained-glass reflections were converging subtly around her. The air felt warm against her skin. She turned slowly. The priest's expression had changed. From curiosity to certainty. "...Please," he said quietly now. "Come with me."
---
Five minutes later, Mariana regretted every decision that had led her here.
She sat in a small chamber behind the altar, staring at a pedestal in the center of the room.
On it rested a clear crystal sphere the size of a melon.
It hummed faintly. The priest stood across from her, adjusting his monocle once more.
"This device measures divine capacity," he explained. "It is calibrated for all known ranks."
All known ranks. Mariana stood. "I'm not- I don't- This is unnecessary."
"Touch the crystal."
Her heart pounded.
If this is some heroine nonsense... if I trigger a hidden saintess route-No. No. I am a villainess. I refuse celestial responsibility.
"Miss," he prompted gently.
The room seemed smaller. Warmer. The crystal's hum grew louder.
Fine.
She stepped forward and placed her fingertips against the cool surface. For one breath, nothing happened. Relief flooded her.
See? Normal. Completely norma-
The crystal ignited. Blinding gold light burst outward, flooding the chamber in radiant brilliance. Mariana yelped and stumbled back, but the light chased her like liquid sunlight. The hum became a roar. The priest grabbed the pedestal to steady himself.
"By the Divine-"
The crystal glowed brighter. Brighter. Brighter-
A sharp, ringing crack split the air. The sphere fractured. Golden light erupted upward in a beam that pierced the ceiling like a silent pillar of dawn. Mariana shielded her eyes.
Then-
Silence.
Shards of crystal rained down harmlessly, dissolving into glittering dust before they hit the ground. The glow faded. The room dimmed. Smoke curled faintly from the pedestal. Mariana slowly lowered her arms.
"...Oh."
The priest stood frozen, monocle slightly crooked. He stared at the empty pedestal. Then at her. Then back at the pedestal. He calmly reached up and adjusted his monocle.
"...The device," he said carefully, "can measure divine power." Mariana swallowed. He continued. "It cannot, however, measure the sun."
Silence.
Mariana stopped pacing mid-step. The words echoed in her skull. Cannot measure. The sun. She laughed weakly.
"That's metaphorical, right?" He did not laugh. The chapel bells outside began ringing on their own. Mariana's smile faded.
Oh no. No no no no no. This is worse than meeting the Crown Prince. Far worse.
She stared at her glowing fingertips in horror. "I just wanted to avoid one engagement," she whispered.
The priest straightened fully now, reverence and alarm mixing in equal measure. "Miss... who are you?"
Mariana looked up slowly. That was the problem. She had absolutely no idea anymore.