[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/WbB6nZmm/373e0ca06a44ee67c49939abb2f77c34.png[/img][hr][h2][color=#EDC700]The Selection Ceremony[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

Thankfully, the blonde only had a few moments to experience a bizarre mix of overwhelming gluttonous envy and the crushing weight of embarrassment at her own inability to give a convincing excuse, as, a few moments later, a man clad in the mixed heraldry of all four Knight-Commanders surmounted the platform, unrolling a large scroll and beginning to read from it.

For such an important day in the lives of the assembled youths in the courtyard, the contents of the herald's speech were... actually rather bland. To be sure, there was a great deal of flowery, overly loquacious prevarication about the great tradition of which they would soon be a part, the glorious 500 years of chivalric history that had built the very foundations of Grayle, and how each and every one of them would be expected to give their best for king and country both, to truly earn the honors of which they had been deemed worthy. It was a little bit calming, actually, Julian noted with some slight, wry amusement. The herald hadn't even bothered to mention that not [i]everyone[/i] among them would get a shot at knighthood, and was just rambling on as if they'd already all made the cut. She had heard that getting in as a cadet was easy, but even so, she'd been... well, maybe a little worried. It would have been stranger if she wasn't, right? But somehow, even with the overwhelming amount of expectation that the speaker was trying to lay as a burden upon their small shoulders, she suddenly felt her stress evaporating, the subject of her worries seeming further and further away.

...At least, until the herald finished his preamble, and launched right into announcing the names of the accepted students. He started with the Southern House, and as he spoke, a haughty-looking man with fiery red hair stood up from the four seated at the top of the dais. When the herald had concluded, he gave a few brief instructions ordering them to their barracks, and the red-haired man gave a speech of his own -- one which was far less verbose, but a great deal more pointed, as he hammered in again and again that those he had chosen had been selected for their strength, and that it would be wise for them not to disappoint him.

Julian couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief that her name -- or, well, her [i]alias[/i] -- hadn't been among this first group. Though, this relief slowly turned to concern when she realized it wasn't among the second group either -- or even the third -- as both Prince Manegold and the elderly head of the Northern House gave some speeches of their own to their candidates before ushering them away as well.

By the time the herald reached the fourth house, the courtyard had cleared a great deal, and the throng that had once packed it to the brim had thinned out enough that she could actually make out the individual faces and appearances of... well, just about everybody left, actually. And from what she could tell from her admittedly unfortunate vantage point, most of them... honestly looked pretty drab. There were a few intense or well-to-do looking youths scattered here and there, but most of the remaining candidates seemed not only like commoners, but like commoners of pretty average height and build.

...Well, except the small mountain hanging around next to her, still crunching down the last bits of his sandwich, but he definitely seemed out of place now that almost everybody else in the crowd wasn't just an inch or two shorter than him, but only came up to his shoulders at most.

...There was a fourth house still left, right? These weren't just all the failures who hadn't made the cut? She [i]was[/i] going to get in, right? The herald had acted like it was guaranteed, but suddenly, she wasn't so sure again...

The reading continued. The names were all shorter now. Most didn't even have surnames, and those that did were just a few syllables. The air was growing tense as those who were called stepped forward, thinning the already sparse assembly until there were just a few dozen people left loitering about. Squad after squad was filled, until, with a crushing finality, the herald seemed to reach the end of the scroll. "And, finally, the thirteenth squadron!" He announced loudly, sending a shiver up Julian's spine. All her hopes were resting on this moment -- if her name wasn't here, then...

"This squadron will be headed by His Highness, Prince Rossweine Lupus Grayle! His second seat shall be Nathaniel Lothwren, and his third... Kaiser Underwall, of House Sauvage."

Well, those names all sounded important. A prince... was there even such a person left among this shabby crowd? If there really was, then the bar for entry just got a lot higher. Had she really failed, then? Thinking about it logically, there wasn't any way that somebody like her would be chosen to serve under royalty... Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and a chill ran up her spine. She raised a small, pale hand and fidgeted uneasily with her collar, suddenly feeling choked even by the loose-fitting hem of her tunic. No, it wasn't that she was choking, but rather that she had just forgotten to breathe. What now? What was she going to do? She couldn't go back, but if the knights wouldn't take her... then who would? Someone like her...

"Further rankings will be decided based on performance in training. The remaining members of the squad shall be..."

Please, somehow... she wouldn't ask for anything else, if only he'd read her name!

"Signar Wayland!"

The towering youth beside her stepped forward, and she felt herself wither a little more inside.

"Zenshin Ferros!"

It wasn't her.

"Dot Auferrum!"

It wasn't her!

"Liese Victoire Brendorn!"

The herald stopped for a moment, and so did Julian's heart in her chest. And then...

"Julian Baker!"

[i]It was her.[/i] The life she'd felt creeping from her rushed back in a tide of emotion, and before she knew it, she was practically running forward to join the rest whose names had been called, mentally thanking whatever Star might be listening for its beneficence.

As she reached the now-assembled members of the newly minted Eastern House, she took note as the final of the four men upon the dais rose up, his long, dark hair trailing behind him as he approached the front of the stage.

"That will be all," he said, dismissing the herald, who nodded, rolled up the scroll, and departed. Not a word was spared for the remainder among the hopefuls, who quietly began to gather their things and trudge away. Julian couldn't help but look back at the fate from which she herself had only narrowly escaped... but her attention was transfixed by the man upon the stage a moment later.

"I have never had a particularly fine way with words... but I think we have all heard more than enough speeches today already, so I will keep this brief. Grayle finds itself in need, and those of you who stand before me now have answered the call to defend it. Your dedication up to this point has been admirable... for citizens. But as of now, you are no longer merely citizens, but the soldiers who will be expected not just to fight for your country, but potentially even to lead its armies into battle. The task before you is a daunting one, and dedication alone will not be sufficient to see it through. In light of that, I will leave you with a question. What is it that you can do for Grayle? Think long and hard on that in the days to come... and when you find an answer, see it through."

In a matter of seconds, their commander's speech had finished, and he turned to go, before glancing back one final time.

"Report to the Eastern Barracks. Your instructors will be waiting there to assign you your quarters, and you'll also have opportunities to meet with your squadmates. I would encourage you to use this time to familiarize yourself with both your accommodations and your brothers-in-arms, as tonight will be the last night of your old lives. Your training begins at dawn tomorrow. Dismissed!"

Barking back these curt remarks, the bespectacled man turned and strode away, his long mane of hair and flowing cloak trailing behind him as he disappeared from view. The cadets looked around, unsure of themselves, but moments later began to disperse, making their way in a disorderly procession out of the courtyard and around the perimeter of the palace's outer wall, towards the barracks on the eastern side of the castle grounds.

Julian, for her part, took one final look at the now empty courtyard, which suddenly seemed so much larger than it had before. The towering walls, the vast empty space, and the stage with its four seats, all devoid of their occupants. The sun was still high in the sky, but the shadows cast by the spires of the palace were long and dark, and made her feel tiny by comparison -- even moreso than she usually felt, that is. This place was going to be her new home, then... for how long? It made her head spin just to think about it, and a mix of relief and lingering worry swirled within her. Was this... really going to be alright?

...Well, fretting about things that had already happened wouldn't help any, and it wasn't her style to begin with. For now... their commander had seemed very terse and a bit intimidating, but the advice he had given was sound. For now, she should probably look for her squadmates...

Come to think of it, hadn't that huge guy stepped up just before she had? That meant they were going to be in the same group! And... well, he had seemed nice enough given that he hadn't laughed at her rather pathetic display earlier, so... maybe she'd just start by officially meeting him, then? That seemed safe enough. And given that even [i]she[/i] could see his head sticking up over the rest of the crowd, it wasn't like he'd be hard to find. So, since they both seemed to be pretty close to the back of the group, she slipped over towards him as best she could without getting trampled underfoot by the other trainees, before popping up by his side once again.

...It was around this point that she realized that she wasn't really sure how exactly you were supposed to greet someone. This wasn't even really a problem that stemmed from her pretending to be a boy, but rather just a sign that the blonde had a profound lack of social experience. Maybe something like... "I'll be in your care?" No, that was far too passive and formal, and even an idiot like her could tell that a baker's son would have no need of that kind of etiquette. Then, maybe "Good to be working with you!" But then again, that seemed a little overly friendly...

It was around this point that her mouth stopped caring about her indecisive brain, and before she knew it, she had apparently already given her greeting.

[color=#EDC700]"Uh... hi. So... I guess we're some kinda team now, huh?"[/color]