I had wanted to rest until the Ceremony, but it seemed as though the prospect of there being an Imperial Representative had shaken things up a bit. For the first time in years, Emilia helped me wash up, and more attendants I had never spoken to kept arriving to help her, some of them caring for my hair, others fussing over the loose threads on my robes. Once or twice I heard Kielan outside my room giving instructions of some sort to them, his cold voice making my hair stand on end.

As much as I needed rest, the bustle managed to get my weary mind working again, and I considered the enormity of what was about to happen. There had not been a single case of an outsider attending a Ceremony since I became Saintess when I was four years old. Before that, the Empire had been without any Saint at all for over two years. As for before that, I did not know what the norm was then, and there was not anyone I trusted enough here to ask. And if there were rules for how such a visit was supposed to go, I certainly did not know them. As I considered that, I supposed my ignorance on this just showed how unexpected having an Imperial representative actually was for the temple, since they had trained me in etiquette for pretty much every other possible scenario.

An attendant with rough hands and a hard look on her face scrubbed my back and shoulders hard enough to hurt, interrupting my train of thought. I tried not to react, but it was hard to ignore so many people manhandling me. I was accustomed to silence and isolation, and being in close contact with people was uncomfortable, even if they were not overtly trying to harm me. When they dragged me out of the bath and started to dress me, I caught a glimpse of the faint scars on my back in the mirror. I took a breath, looked away, and my mind went blank.

By the time I came back to myself, I was fully dressed and Emilia was the only attendant still there, working on putting my hair into an unfamiliar and intricate arrangement. There were gold and silver rings looped through the braids, and lace on the ribbon she tied at the back. I had never seen these accessories before, and they made me uneasy; they looked too much like what the nobility wore as they visited the temple. I never went out to be seen by them, but it was my job to sit behind the screen in the main prayer room once every week on Temple Day, and I could see glimpses of them through the mesh of the screen. Since I had turned ten, I had been able to hear the wishes these visitors held in their hearts as they prayed, and the darkness I often saw there had terrified me when I first heard it. I had told Kielan and the High Priest when it happened, thinking it must be some part of being Saintess, but they had looked at me with fear and disgust. Telling them had been a mistake, and I had tried to pretend since then that it had been a child's lie for attention rather than the truth. I did not know if they had believed me.

Mentally shaking off these thoughts, I asked Emilia quietly what time it was. She gave me an assessing look.

"Eleventh bell just rang."

That was upsetting. I had wanted to spend all the time I could before noon thinking and preparing myself for what was to come, but I had lost half an hour just now. It happened sometimes, me losing time, especially when I was physically weak. I hated it.

Emilia stopped moving, and I realized she had finished with my hair. She was looking at my face in the mirror with a pinched expression. I hesitated, but eventually I had to ask.

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "We might have enough time. Wait here."

And with that cryptic remark, she left, moving faster than I had seen her move in years. I sat there with my mouth half open to question where she was going but I was left with only empty air to speak to.

I looked back in the mirror, trying to see what it was that she had been looking at. My face looked back at me, the same face I had seen this morning, maybe a little bit paler, but with the same sharp angles and pale brows. Nothing looked obviously wrong, and I was puzzled. The longer I looked at it though, the more I realized how I might appear to an outsider. I was too thin, too pale, and too weak. My eyes were dull with deep rings beneath them and my lips were chapped and pale. Nothing about me looked holy or divine.

The Saint was supposed to be a symbol of power in the temple and an emblem of hope for the Empire. I knew that I was a fake, so it made sense to me that I did not look like one. But what would the Imperial representative think? The first outsider to see the Saint in decades was going to be at the Ceremony, and in the golden glow of the Spring of Blessings they were going to see... me. I imagined them staring at me wide–eyed, then glancing at Kielan surreptitiously, wanting to check – 'Is that really the right person?' I could almost see Kielan's mouth twist in angry embarrassment as he was forced to restrain himself in front of the outsider rather than vent his frustration on me as he usually did. And I would be there, unable to summon a vision despite standing right by the Spring like a Saint should, just waiting for the priests who ran the Ceremony to get me a ladleful of Holy Water like it was some sort of soup...

I could not help it. I started to laugh. At first it was mostly out panic; I did not like to be in this position, not knowing how to act or what I should do. I had lived a life wrapped in rules and restrictions under the heels of the Council of Priests, and the only way I had been able to protect myself while still doing my job had always been to anticipate the power dynamics of whatever situation I was thrust into and behave accordingly. The Ceremony today was a complete unknown to me.

As I kept laughing, my panic faded into a nihilistic glee. What did it really matter? Sure, I worried about the consequences of being discovered as a fake early, but I was due to be kicked out soon anyway; my old vision of the true Saint had been at a New Year's ceremony. Based on the age and appearance of the High Priest in the vision, I could guess it was going to happen soon, and the last two newly appointed Council members from this year meant the current Council membership was now exactly the same as the ring of priests in the vision. As far as I could tell in the vision, I was still the official Saint when it happened. I was almost certain that she was arriving at the end of this year. Sure, the Empire needed prophecies, and I did not want to be forced to abandon my duty before then, but realistically they needed me too much to leave the seat vacant or even start from scratch with a new fake when I was still here as an alternative. And anyway, I had no power to stop any of this, so why should I worry as though it was me defecting?

I laughed harder. Who knew? Maybe this would actually solve my problems! After my vision of the true Saint, I had begged and pleaded with the High Priest and with Kielan to find her.  It was the only time I had told them about one of my strange visions without Holy Water, and they had not believed me despite how desperately I had spoken. I was inadequate, and people's lives were at stake; the vision showed a real Saint existed, a chance at better prophecies. When my vision first occurred, it had showed her appearing years later, it was true, but the whole reason prophecies were useful was that they are not set in stone; you can always use the knowledge they give you to change the future. I told them because I thought maybe we could find the real Saint sooner. My pleading never came to anything. Neither Kielan nor the High Priest even told the rest of the Council. The High Priest left Kielan, who was always in charge of my education, to deal with me, and he punished me for lying. It was a sin to ignore your purpose and turn your back on the goddess. I was a child who wished to abandon her duties because she found them too difficult. If I worked harder, I could be a real Saint. I had always believed it before, but I trusted my visions. Perhaps if the Imperial representative today saw the Ceremony and realized I was not a proper Saint, Kielan and the High Priest would be forced to acknowledge my prophecy and search for the real one.

I was laughing so hard now that I was getting a bit dizzy. I kept imagining Kielan's face as he was forced to expose the temple's dirty secret; the Saintess was a fraud, with such weak resonance with Holy Water that she had to drink the damned stuff in order to give the prophecies everyone valued so much. The Saintess wasn't holy at all, she was just a bit more damage resistant than the average priest. The Ceremony was supposed to be a glorious thing where a Saint channeled visions while standing tall and proud before the Spring of Blessings, Lumina's last gift to humanity in the fight against the demons. What would Kielan do when he was forced to show instead the supposed Saint choking on the burning Holy Water, all the priests looking away uncomfortably as she knelt on the ground, writhing in the light from the Spring?

Emilia came back in right as my laughing turned into something more like choking, tears streaming down my face.

"What on earth – Ia – Saintess?"

I hiccupped, Emilia's cry shocking me out of my manic outburst. Had she just started to say – ?

Emilia had dropped a basket of creams and powders when she ran in and was now fussing over me, her thin, callused hands fluttering around my face as she kept asking me what was wrong. I just stared at her, my eyes as round as coins. Had she been about to call me what I think she had been?

There was not enough time left for me to stay surprised, though. Soon after Emilia came in, another attendant followed, and they started to work frantically on my face. Apparently Emilia had left for make up, hoping to turn my skin into something brighter and more presentable. I had never worn make up before, and it was uncomfortable, but Emilia's hands were gentle. After a few minutes though it became obvious that while she might be gentle, she was not skilled.

The attendant who had come with her fiddled with the bottles in the basket, avoiding looking at the mirror as Emilia and I stared at my reflection.

"Umm..."

I wasn't sure what to say. Emilia had clearly done her best, but it was not like she was a noble lady's maid or lady–in–waiting. This was not a skillset she possessed. Moreover, I had just had a violent storm of sobs, laughter, and tears. Where before the problem had been my dark circles and pallor, it was now all compounded by my bloodshot, red–rimmed eyes. Emilia had tried to cover up the bags beneath my eyes, add a little color to my cheeks, and darken my white eyebrows a bit. The result was a nearly white face from the coverup spread up to my eyes, with pink splotches high on my cheeks and thin but vivid eyebrows that combined with my reddened eyes to give me surprised sort of look, like a ghost caught of guard.

Blushing, Emilia shook her head and wordlessly started wiping my face. In the end, she just applied some lotion and balm to my lips. I looked as bad as before – worse now after the tears – but at least my lips didn't hurt anymore.

Emilia avoided eye contact as she cleaned up, and I felt a sudden rush of affection for her. She was nothing like a parent or sibling, and not really a friend, but she was the closest person to me in the world. Maybe she was only trying now because she feared she would be humiliated, but the balm on my lips was comforting, and seeing her still so flustered made me want to help her. As I considered her, it occurred to me that if I came before the outsider and looked like a mess, Kielan might blame Emilia for the embarrassment.

We did not have much time left, but before Emilia could step away, I grabbed her sleeve. She looked at my hand, still avoiding my gaze.

"Well, there's no rule I have to show my face, right?"

At that, Emilia froze for a moment before springing back into action. And so it was that at the same moment a pair of priests stepped into my room to escort me away, Emilia was securing an indigo veil across my face.

Laughter started to bubble up in my chest again at the absurdity, but I held it in this time. Still, I smiled behind the veil, feeling safer than I usually did with the screen of fabric hiding my expressions. Maybe the Ceremony would end up being almost enjoyable this time.