Tomorrow marked another thirty years.
Another thirty years the Kingdom of Elarian would choose a new girl and call her divine.
It was a tradition.
Every thirty years one female child lost her name, her freedom, and her future.
In return her family was blessed with wealth, status, and every earthly comfort the kingdom could offer.
Tomorrow the choice would be made again.
The capital did not sleep that night.
Lanterns burned long after midnight, glowing behind papered windows and iron gates. In some homes, where a daughter of exactly eighteen years waited for the morning crow that would decide their fate, silk robes were laid out with trembling hands. Mothers smoothed the fabric again and again as though perfection might protect their child.
In other houses, tears soaked into pillows as women held their daughters too tightly, breathing in their scent as if afraid it might vanish by morning.
And in a few homes sleep refused to come for an entirely different reason.
There were parents who lay awake not in fear of losing their daughter but in quiet greedy anticipation, calculating the wealth, the influence, and the doors that would open by dawn if their child were chosen.
And one of those greedy homes belonged to Kendra.
She sat on the edge of her bed, hands folded tightly in her lap, listening to her parents' voices drift in from the next room.
Not in fear
Not in worry
In excitement
"Last thirty years," her mother whispered as though the walls themselves might steal the words, "the minister's household was given three estates. Three. And their daughter wasn't even that remarkable."
Her father let out a low pleased laugh. "And her father wasn't even a minister before that. Just a peasant farmer. One daughter and overnight he rose into power. The Prime Minister is also blessed with a high level of cultivation. I heard he is now Level six power. He is now an Ascendant."
"Imagine," her mother breathed almost giddy. "If Kendra is chosen tomorrow. Maybe you'll become the king's right-hand man. Three estates or maybe more."
Her father went quiet, as if the wealth already sat in his hands and he feared someone might snatch it away.
"This time it will be more," he said softly. "The kingdom grows richer every cycle. If the gods are wise they will see Kendra. They will see that no one is well suited for this than her."
If the gods are wise
The words settled heavily in Kendra's chest.
Tears slid down her cheeks, silent and hot.
If she was chosen tomorrow she would never return home. Never walk these streets again. Never see the sky without permission. Even in death her body would not come back to rest among her people.
Yet her parents spoke only of wealth. Of power. Of doors opening.
A bitter realization struck her then.
Months ago her only friend Charlotte had been hurried into marriage. At the time Kendra had believed it was love, a good match, a fortunate union.
Now she understood.
Only virgins
Only the unmarried
Only those deemed pure in body, heart, and sight were tested for the divine mark
No family in the kingdom dared marry off their daughter or risk defilement until the Veiled Goddess was chosen at eighteen years of age
That time Charlotte was already a few weeks over eighteen making her not qualify for the selection, but her father couldn't risk it and quickly made sure she got married in a hurry
Tomorrow one girl would be chosen and taken to the Palace of Elarian at eighteen, never to return
Charlotte's parents had saved her
But Kendra's parents were only hoping their daughter would become the unfortunate one tomorrow
Another sob tore from her chest just as her door swung open
No knock
No warning
It had been locked from the outside for four weeks now so she wouldn't run
Her mother entered first, arms full of silk. Pale gold, soft as breath, expensive enough to feed a family for years. Her father followed, a wide smile stretched across his face.
The fabric was draped over Kendra's shoulders, adjusted and smoothed with practiced hands.
"Sit straighter," her mother said sharply. "Is this how you'll behave in the palace if you're chosen tomorrow?"
Kendra obeyed, though her spine felt rigid, her throat tight.
"What if I'm not chosen?" she asked quietly.
Her father glanced up from counting something on his fingers, estates, titles, futures not hers. His smile never reached his eyes.
"Don't be foolish," he said. "Every family hopes."
Her mother's hands paused only a moment before continuing. "Do you know what it means if you're chosen?" she said softly. "Your brothers will never want again. Your father will enter the inner court. We'll move closer to the palace. You'll make us proud."
"Proud?" Kendra repeated sharply.
Her control shattered.
"Do you even think about me?" she cried, tears spilling freely now. "In everything you've listed I don't exist. Is my role in this family to make you proud and I don't deserve to be proud of myself? Didn't you understand? For you to gain all this I have to disappear forever. This wealth, this status, it's bought with my life. I have nothing to gain there."
She broke completely.
Her mother knelt beside her, voice calm, disturbingly so, without a trace of remorse.
"Don't be selfish, Kendra," her mother said. "You're not going there to die. You're going to become the Veiled Goddess, the one behind every decision in the kingdom. The most powerful being in all of Elarian."
She tilted Kendra's chin upward, forcing her to look.
"Look at you. Your power level already surpasses most adults. Level four at eighteen, a wielder before your brothers, something half the kingdom couldn't achieve even at an older age. Your father spent years cultivating before he reached it in his thirties. But you got to the level at eighteen, Kendra," she called dramatically and proudly. "You were meant for this."
"But you didn't even become a wielder," her father cut in with a laugh, as though it were a compliment. "Despite your age."
Her mother smiled proudly. "Yet I gave birth to her. A genius. A wielder at eighteen. And tomorrow she will be chosen. I'm certain of it."
"You speak as if she came from you alone," her father said smugly. "She is,"
"ENOUGH!"
Kendra's scream tore through the room
Her heart raced, her fists shook, and the silence that followed felt too long, too heavy.
Her parents froze, stunned. This was the first time in eighteen years she had dared to raise her voice. Always quiet. Always obedient. But not today
Outside, the lanterns swayed in the night breeze, trembling with her fury.