The Engagement Ceremony and the Farewell, Part Two

Having been disowned by my family, I remained in a formal bow for some time.

I could sense the shock on every face that had witnessed the scene.

Indeed… such a scandal as a noble house of high lineage disowning their daughter was enough to stir the entire social world.

And not just any daughter—on the very day of her true daughter’s engagement, they disowned her adopted daughter before all the public…

People approached me as I stood frozen, still in the posture of reverence.

Friends who had received my letters announcing my departure.

Among them, Shasha and Lady Shiya, and even Ana herself, who was set to marry this autumn. Beside Ana, I saw the face of Yuna, who should have been studying abroad in a neighboring country.

It had been long since I last met the Debutantes, and only a peculiar silence hung in the air.

"Everyone… I must have made quite a spectacle of myself."

As I spoke with a troubled expression, they all shook their heads, murmuring in unison, "You did well," "It was not your fault," encouraging me with gentle words.

I felt my heart, once sharp with pain, grow full with the warmth of my friend’s kindness.

"Yet, this is not the attitude of a mother whose daughter is about to begin her sacred duty!"

"If you had acted so cruelly, I would have taken you by force and carried you to a neighboring kingdom... Ah, perhaps I should never have given you to Elder Brother!"

Lady Celia fumed, while Lady Ana gnawed at her nails.

"May I speak for a moment?"

A woman, younger than Grandmother yet older than Mother-in-Law, her bearing noble and bright with cheer, addressed us.

All but Ana lowered their heads in unison.

This lady is Madame Subrova. Having declined the title of consort due to her low station, she was granted the name of夫人—she was the late Emperor’s beloved mistress.

"Good evening, Madam Subrova."

She returns the greeting with a lady’s gentle smile.

"Yes, thank you. I know it is unseemly to intrude upon the play of young blossoms, yet I ask your indulgence.

Lady Althera, I rejoice in your safe return home."

Bowing slightly to Ana, she now turns her gaze upon me.

"Spica-sama, I have just heard of your sacred duty—might it be that you are departing now? Is this evening the ceremony of divine farewell?"

I bow deeply.

"Yes, as you have divined, this evening is my ceremony of divine farewell. Madam Subrova, I thank you from the depths of my heart for your kindness toward me, as though I were your own daughter, like the late Empress."

For a moment, her eyes shimmer, and her expression fills with tender affection.

"My elder sister ascended to the Divine Seat decades ago. Though I call her sister, she was actually my aunt’s daughter—my cousin… Like you, she wore a dress of pure white and departed with a smile, serving her final duty… Forgive me, I grow more fragile with age, and tears come too easily."

The lady wipes her eyes with a handkerchief, as if recalling a distant memory.

"At that time, I was still too young to be told of my elder sister’s ascension, and I could not bid her farewell properly… I said something so carelessly, 'Please play with me again someday,' as if we would meet once more. That is my regret. Spica, will you accept my greeting?"

I bow deeply, as I would before the Emperor himself—never shown to anyone else—my voice solemn and precise.

The people of the Empire are the sacred ones I am sworn to protect.

Lady Subrova, her hands rarely seen so crossed before her chest, performs a deep bow from the knees.

The gesture, akin to prayer before the divine, is a rite reserved solely for this day—long since abandoned in recent years, its rarity making it all the more beautiful, a silent testament to the many maidens she has seen depart in years past.

“May your journey be blessed, and may fortune ever attend the Empire. Guard it with kind grace and gentle light. We give thanks to the spirit of Miss Spica.”

Normally, the right hand would be taken—but instead, her left hand is offered, and the lady presses her forehead gently upon it.

This is the highest expression of reverence a noblewoman may show.

“Though tradition calls for the right hand… it is the hand that bore the final memory of one I loved. I, unworthy, may not touch it. So I offer my left hand instead. Go now, in peace.”

With a final bow, the lady departs.

I bow once more to the lady, my gratitude sincere. I watch her depart.

The Feast of the Divine Departure is the final gathering where the Virgin of the Barrier makes her appearance.

A farewell to those dear to her, to those who have cared for her.

And the attire—white, forbidden outside of debutante ceremonies, betrothals, and weddings—carries the meaning of a funeral robe.

By tradition, the nature of the Feast of the Divine Departure is never spoken aloud.

If one sees a noblewoman don her funeral robes for the first time at the venue, one understands the custom.

Of course, close friends may be informed beforehand, if permitted.

And this night, I stand at the final social gathering of my life. Tonight, I journey to Emmental and become the Virgin of the Barrier.

I stand here to offer my final words of thanks.

I have heard my father, upon learning of a successor to the Virgin of the Barrier, signed his approval without even reading the name.

It was the Empress Dowager’s recommendation, yet upon closer inspection, you should have realized it was my baptismal name…

Had you noticed then, might this farewell not have been so wretched?

Would you have thought of me, and sent me away with remembrance?

No—now, pondering it, it is futile. What is done is done. I must look forward, not back.

And had you realized it then, I would have had no means to break the betrothal between Arthur and my sister-in-law…

To those who volunteer as the Virgin of the Barrier, a final wish is granted.

It is the offering of one’s own life as a final tribute and hope to the maiden who shall save the nation.

Many of the maidens have been asked, so their families would not suffer hardship.

And this wish holds a sanctity surpassing even imperial decree. Of course, frivolous demands—such as "end the war" or "make me emperor"—are beyond consideration. Yet among past maidens, there have been those who petitioned for the lifting of punishments decreed by imperial order, or for the remission of sentences, and others who sought a reconsideration of inheritance rights within their family line.

What I have petitioned for is the marriage between Your Highness Arthur and the one whom he truly wishes to stand beside with his whole heart.

I did not ask for myself, but that Your Highness Arthur be granted the companionship of one he trusts completely, with whom he may find peace…

I asked that he not be forced into marriage with his unwilling, unseen sister-in-law…

Yet this vow only gains power once the duties of service have been fulfilled—once the sleep of duty has taken hold…

This time, I had to wait until I reached adulthood, able to act by my own will, before this betrothal ceremony could take place…

But once I begin my service, I am certain they will listen.

At the venue, those who had noticed the earlier exchange with Madame Subrova began gathering around me, recognizing the banquet of divine sending.

At first, only the elderly approached, but gradually, others of my own age came as well, accompanied by their parents and grandparents.

I received their formal rites of divine sending with awkward grace, repeating expressions of gratitude and farewells.

Some offered apologies, having believed ill-natured rumors about me.

Others pretended contrition, seeking to wound me beneath the guise of remorse.

Yet the greatest reason I had volunteered as the Virgin of the Barrier was the simple longing of my childhood…

A way of life I had once wished to be, pure and unblemished.

It is in this moment, freed from the roles and expectations of the past, that I have found salvation.

And so, even if I can no longer share time with all of you gathered here, I could proudly declare that I shall devote myself to my duties as a maiden for the sake of my own happiness.

Those who lament me, those who call me hypocrite, those who weep in remembrance, those who do not care at all for me—each has their own thoughts. I, too, am but one person. I need not endure any further pain or suffering to live as a noble. I shall live instead for the god I believe in and the empire I love.

Yes… with the memories of those I hold dear, and of those I have loved, held close in my heart—

And with those thoughts, as long as time permits, I visited each of you, greeting you in turn. I spoke with each one, offering gratitude for all that has been.

Perhaps because all had witnessed our first exchange, I was greeted not with the right hand, as was customary with Your Highness Arthur, but with the left. This kindness, this gentleness, has also healed my heart.

Spica did not know that, from this moment forward, greeting the Maiden of the Divine Offering with the left hand would become the custom. To be granted the right hand’s greeting was an unspoken privilege, reserved only for those who cherished the Maiden, or for those whom the Maiden cherished.

But Spica would never come to know this.

The families of Emmental avoided looking at Spica as she repeated her greetings at the edge of the hall.

Combined with the fact that, during the initial greeting by Madame Subrova, Spica had temporarily left the hall to care for Stella, time passed without her realizing she was at the Divine Offering feast.

At first, many had criticized her for arriving in attire so ill-suited to a sister’s wedding ceremony.

Yet as the days passed and the interactions unfolded, the eyes of reproach gradually turned toward the Emmental family.

Still, on the surface, all were intoxicated by the elegant words of praise and celebration offered to today’s honored guest. None, however, truly perceived the truth.

…mocking those who, despite their outward displays of admiration, cast aside the girls sent forth as Virgins of the Barrier without gratitude or remorse.

…mourning the cruel disparity of bloodline.

Spica stood at the edge of the hall, her greeting to the tide of well-wishers ebbing and flowing in measured waves.

She was struck by how many had mourned her departure more than she had expected, and yet, the absence of her family left a weight upon her heart.

Glancing to her side, she saw her four fellow Debutantes standing close, watching over her.

“Everyone, you need not remain by my side when you could be enjoying the gathering…”

She spoke with both joy and regret.

“Oh, you’ve managed to greet so many guests here, haven’t you?”

“Even without moving, they came to you. I’m grateful—my feet have not tired at all.”

“We haven’t properly greeted Lady Pearl yet, have we?”

“Indeed. Do you truly believe we’d be denied a greeting from us?”

“Everyone…”

Tears welled in my eyes, and I feared they would spill over—then, without warning, they fell.

After that, I could not bear it anymore. A tangle of emotions swirled within me, consuming me.

Yet you all drew near, wrapping me in your embrace, and I swallowed back my sobs.

In the quiet corner of the hall, now nearly empty as the gathering drew to its close, I lingered with my friends, reluctant to part.

Four of you waited patiently until I had calmed, then each offered a solemn farewell in turn.

First, Yuna—

"My dearest elder sister. My pride, my elder sister. You will surely become the foremost lady in all the realm, even in your service… Truly… there is so much more I wish to learn from you… yet I cannot speak only of my own desires.

Pray, Pearl elder sister, may your journey as a maiden be blessed with fortune and grace. May your path be guided by good fortune and light, and may you protect the Empire with steadfast virtue. I offer my gratitude to your spirit."

"Thank you, Yuna. I hold you in my heart as a precious younger sister. Yunaria, I pray that light will accompany you on your path ahead."

With my reply, Yuna took my left hand and pressed her forehead to it.

Next stepped forth Lady Stella.

"If not for this turn of fate, we would have stood as equals, supporting the nation side by side—shouldering one another’s burdens. Though our positions now differ, let us still protect the nation as one."

May your journey as a maiden and the Empire be blessed with fortune. Guard the Empire with kind travels and kind light. I offer my gratitude to the spirit of my dear friend, Pearl.

Thank you, Lady Stella. You too shall wed next spring, shall you not? It is regrettable that I cannot attend the ceremony… yet I shall watch over you from afar, from the distant lands of Emmental. I pray that the future of Lady Patricia and Lord Gavin may be bright.

And then I feel warmth in my left hand.

Next to step forward is Lady Ana.

Truly, if you had not wished to become the nation’s cornerstone, I would have carried you away to your bridegroom’s home myself… but this is Pearl’s wish, is it not? I entrust the Empire to you in her stead.

May your journey as a maiden and the Empire be blessed with fortune. Guard my motherland with kind travels and kind light. I offer my gratitude to the spirit of Pearl, the peerless maiden.

Your words are deeply moving. It is a sorrow beyond measure that I shall not live to see Ana’s marriage fulfilled… yet I solemnly vow to serve as a guardian of the Empire. May blessings shower upon the radiant moon of the Empire, Althera, and may her future be filled with endless joy.

I felt a warm droplet welling at the tip of my left hand, taken as it was.

The final one to step forward was Shasha.

"You truly are leaving… I am glad I met you, Pearl. To have become your friend is the pride of my life. So many memories reside within me—this is a treasure no one can take, no one can defile…

Though I could not be of help in your most vital hour, still, to stand at your side is my honor…

Go well, Spica. Go well, my irreplaceable friend…

May your journey as a maiden be blessed with fortune, and may you be protected by good fortune and light as you serve the Empire. I give thanks to the spirit of my dear friend, Pearl.

Yes, yes, Shasha… every moment spent with you has been a treasure. I might have shattered without you. It is because you have sustained and guided me each day that I am who I am now. I am the one who should offer thanks.

Shasha, thank you… thank you, my dearest friend, Shalisha. May your future shine with radiant light.

I had wished to part with a smile, yet as we looked upon one another, we wept as if no longer ladies of grace.

And gently, she rested her forehead trembling against my left hand.

Later, the four of us embraced fiercely.

This is our final farewell, thank you for everything.

With hearts heavy with longing, we bid each other goodbye, each soul holding the other’s farewell close.

And I depart, seen off by all, leaving the hall earlier than the people of Emmental.

It was sorrowful to see the Emmental family, indifferent to me, as if I were unseen…

I turn once more, bow gracefully beneath the grand entrance door, facing the hall.

Farewell, all of you.

Farewell, my friend.

Farewell, the noblewoman I once was.

Farewell, my beloved family.

Tonight, I shall vanish from your sight.

But if, by chance, you should remember me, I would be grateful. That memory would be proof of my existence…

And so I leave the hall.

There, my friends return the same bow in farewell.

My heart trembles at the thought—how fortunate it is to be surrounded by such kind companions…

Afterward, I pay my respects to the Emperor and Empress, and the Empress Dowager, within the Imperial Palace, then depart the city.

The carriage, as a token of imperial favor, carried Spica von Emmental—daughter of the Count of Emmental—into the heart of the imperial city, where she vanished from sight.

And she would never return to Emmental's manor again.