Inside, the grand hall was bathed in light from chandeliers that reflected off crystal and silver, casting an iridescent glow across the polished floors. Ornate mirrors and gilded frames on every wall magnified the opulence, the decadence designed to remind every person in attendance of Vassoria’s wealth and influence. There was a quiet hum as nobles gathered to watch the line of young women waiting to be presented, each carefully trained to smile, bow, and display the right balance of elegance and deference. For the debutantes, this evening marked the height of months, sometimes years, of preparation, a performance where each movement and word could determine their future alliances.

Riven felt the weight of the stares around her, their scrutiny heavy and sharp as she adjusted her posture, and smoothed out her expression into a calm, practiced smile. This wasn’t the time for self-doubt; every move was rehearsed, a choreographed display she’d committed to muscle memory long ago, when being noticed had felt more like a mild inconvenience than a matter of survival. She had played this role in her previous life with no intention other than fading into the background, content with her obscurity. But this time was different. Now, each curtsy and glance had weight, an almost desperate intent behind them as she scanned the faces in the crowd, searching for anyone who might align with her goals. Someone with enough power and ambition to preserve her family and, ideally, shield her from Calia’s wrath.

Riven’s stomach tightened, as her gaze drifted to the far side of the hall, where the figures of the kingdom’s most influential nobles gathered in their elegant clusters. Those aligned with Calia stood apart, and somewhere among them, Riven knew, Calia herself was concealed. Though cloaked in the guise of a guest, her presence hummed like a low, constant current… an unyielding reminder of the consequences awaiting the unprepared.

Riven’s mind cycled through every name, every house she remembered that had even the slightest hope of sheltering her from Calia’s eventual purge. House Lythorn held wealth and influence, though they were cautious and had avoided much of the court’s darker dealings. But a match with House Illirian would be the strongest shield, if unlikely. Its patriarch was rumored to be in Calia’s most inner circle and his son was only a few years older than her current age.

Riven snapped her attention to the center of the hall, her heart steadying as the herald called out the names of each debutante, their titles ringing out to the attentive crowd. The ceremony was finally starting, and Riven straightened, pulling every ounce of poise from within herself as she waited for her name to echo through the hall. The young women filed forward one by one, each name followed by a rustle of polite applause and murmured appraisals from the audience. Some of the names she recognized from her previous life—young ladies who would be noted for their talents, their connections, or, for a rare few, their latent magic. Riven knew that soon, the ceremony would enter a pivotal phase, one that would be integral to the path each girl would walk within Vassoria.

A ripple of excitement passed through the hall as one of the first girls was called forward to be tested for magic. Riven felt herself slipping into old habits, barely paying attention as the herald continued with his tasks. Magic was a privilege granted solely to women, a divine inheritance from Liora and in rare cases, her twin, Noctyra. As such, even commoners who had magic instantly became nobility, and usually found themselves married off to a more powerful family, reinforcing how being noticed by the goddesses was rarely a blessing. 

‘At least I have none,’ Riven allowed herself a slight smile, remembering how she’d stood in this same spot with perfect assurance that she would remain magicless. Then, it had felt like a cloak of invisibility, allowing her to float through her debut unnoticed, a pawn unworthy of manipulation or exploitation. While in some ways magic would make it easier to achieve her goal, it would also make her more of a pawn, especially to Lirian.

She watched as the debutantes took turns under the examining crystal orb, its polished surface swirling with a silvery light as it scanned each young woman’s potential. Most approached the orb with a mix of excitement and trepidation, aware that their futures could shift in an instant depending on what the orb revealed. For the few who were revealed to be blessed, Riven felt sorry for the fear she saw in their smiles; only one of the girls would be lucky enough to be on Calia’s good side with Lirian basically threatening the other two into marriage with his supporters.

As the line moved forward and Riven edged closer to the orb, she found herself wishing it could be over more quickly. If she wanted a chance to introduce herself to Lady Illirian’s son, she would need to do it quickly; their family would be one of the first families to leave in order to hide Calia’s presence. Lady Illirian’s son Lewis, a rare figure at social events, stood just beyond the testing dais, his expression carefully detached as he observed the proceedings. With his tall frame and a stoic gaze that only softened in whispers to his mother, he was exactly the sort of shield Riven needed. Close enough with Calia’s more ardent supporters to provide safety, and influential enough that few would dare to cross him.

The orb shimmered as Riven finally reached the stand, impatient now that it was her turn. She did her best to hide it however, reminding herself that she was supposed to still be acting as a frail side character. All she had to do was touch the orb, and confirm what everyone in the hall already believed. Her heart beat steadily, its rhythm unwavering, as she reached her hand forward, her fingertips brushing the orb’s polished surface. 

The orb pulsed beneath her touch, a single, faint flicker at first. Riven froze, eyes widening slightly as the light within began to swell, its silvery shimmer intensifying and curling in tendrils that seemed to reach toward her hand, pulling her into its depths. The hall fell into silence, a collective intake of breath as the light’s color shifted, deepening from pale silver into a star-streaked twilight, as though an entire night sky had been drawn into the orb’s glassy depths.

‘But I’m not supposed to have magic!’

A faint murmur broke through the silence, rippling out from the audience as whispers passed between the guests. Riven’s heart raced, her mind struggling to process what she was seeing, what it could mean. 

“Riven Marlowe,” the herald stammered, casting a glance toward the judges stationed at the edges of the dais.“blessed by Myelia, the Star-Gazer.”

‘Myelia? The little sister of Liora and Noctyra and goddess of the stars?!’ Riven felt her legs start to shake, her eyes locked onto the orb that was still glowing with a mesmerizing constellation of shimmering stars, swirling as if alive. In The Silver Throne, Myelia was rarely more than a myth whispered among stargazers and mystics. She was one of many minor goddesses believed to be a little sister of the main twins, and the minor goddesses never granted magic. 

“My lady?” the herald called out to Riven, but she couldn’t hear his voice over the sound of her own thoughts. Was Myelia the one who heard her wish, who granted her a second chance, only to set her on a path no one in Vassoria’s history had taken? The implications were dizzying, and Riven could feel the coldness of fear creeping into her bones, mingling with the brightness of the orb that pulsed still beneath her hand. She drew back slowly, willing herself not to stagger under the weight of the stares fixed upon her.

Riven moved robotically to the side, finally moving to stand with the other three girls who had been revealed to have magic. Riven tried to match their composure, but the strange, star-streaked magic that had answered her touch pulsed like a heartbeat within her mind, its warmth tinged with an enigmatic presence that left her on edge. She felt more exposed than she ever had; a character so unimportant in the original novel that she hadn’t even been named, suddenly granted a role that no character in the world could have dreamed of. 

What else could go wrong?