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For Lienna, the past few weeks had been a torrent of firsts: first time sleeping in a keep, first time eating pork, first time having her hair cut by someone who knew what they were doing, first time having her measurements taken, and more. So much had happened it was hard to believe it was real; in fact, just about the only thing reminding her she wasn't dreaming was the horrible stone in her stomach. 

Indeed, among her other ‘firsts’ since finalizing her engagement to Count Francis was a decidedly unpleasant one: her first time riding in a carriage, and consequently, her first realization that she got [i]roadsick[/i]. The few hours’ ride from Hima to South Gautier had been awful enough on that rickety fur trader’s cart, but the trip from the Count’s keep to Garreg Mach took [i]days[/i] and wasn't any smoother. Lienna had always thought a real carriage would be more comfortable, but the wretched thing pitched and yawed with every bump in the road, the horses stank, and the walls and roof that were supposed to protect her only made her feel like she was suffocating. Her single attempt to ride alongside the carriage on horseback ended before it began when the beast was too spooked to let her mount it, so she'd been doomed to spend the whole trip trying to keep her dinner down. 

By the time they finally arrived at Garreg Mach, she was as white as a sheet, trembling, and vowing never again to set foot in a carriage. She’d had the driver stop a ways off from the monastery walls so she could stumble out and finish what the last leg of the trip had started, and spent a good few minutes in the shade of a tree by the roadside, nursing a waterskin and waiting for her head to stop spinning. Her uniform jacket had fallen casualty on the way, not that Lienna missed it; the stiff collar felt like a hand around her neck, and the trim fit of the thing greatly contrasted the ratty furs and smocks she was used to. The shoes were no better with their hard soles and heel, but that couldn’t be helped; commoner or not, even [i]she[/i] wasn’t about to stumble into Garreg Mach Monastery with bare feet. At least the skirt was agreeable enough, long enough to reach her ankles and only snug at the waist, and the shirt would probably become a favourite. She’d been apprehensive about the breathable cotton at first, but the loose-fitting sleeves concealed how bony her arms were and now that she was here, she didn't expect the cold to be a problem. If this weather kept up, she could probably stow that jacket away for good. 

She eventually felt well enough to stand again, but her stomach was reluctant to settle, and she’d be damned if she met her new classmates and professors holding her belly like a woman with child. The solution was found in a gift from her new fiancé: a long, deep brown sash, made of fabric that shone in the light and thin enough to see through. The gift perplexed Lienna; she didn’t understand why the Count bothered trying to woo her when their engagement was already finalized, and the sash itself would be useless against the cold, thin as it was. But as it turned out, it [i]could[/i] serve a purpose: she wrapped it tightly around her abdomen, binding her belly from waist to ribs, and tied it off to the side in a limp bow. If nothing else, it might stop her stomach from quivering.

Not that it didn’t try. Lienna hadn’t been to church in years, but even she felt the weight of history and piety when she set foot in the cathedral. It wasn’t like she remembered the church back home; the church in Hima had been a second home for her until her grandmother fell ill, but every step here felt like an unwelcome intrusion on holy ground, the eyes of the saints heavy and judgemental when she passed under them. It was so bizarre and uncomfortable that it even distracted her from the unbelievable [i]scale[/i] of the place, and when the young Archbishop’s speech finally concluded, she was one of the first ones out. 

Luckily, that strangeness seemed to end at the threshold of the cathedral. She was able to relax a little once she got to the Blue Lions classroom, discomfort nudged aside by awe that Garreg Mach managed to transform even something as humble as a classroom into the stuff of fairy tales. The stained glass windows were unlike anything Lienna had ever seen, casting a rainbow of light across the ancient masonry; she couldn’t imagine the price of the books lining the walls, bound in leather and etched in gold, far finer than any she’d seen at the church back home; hells, even the tables and chairs were crafted with skill beyond anything Lienna had ever hoped to lay eyes on. It took a conscious effort not to drop her jaw at every new furnishing or artifact that caught her eye; while commoners were present at the Academy, she didn’t want to advertise her status just yet by openly ogling the furniture. 

The cavalier professor clashed with the focused atmosphere of the room, but he was brief enough; he simply introduced himself and the House Leader before scurrying out the door. Said House Leader was somewhat less charismatic, quick to take Michail’s place at the front and launch into a stiff-yet-flowery introduction about securing the Kingdom’s future. Lienna looked on with lidded eyes, waiting to be dismissed; the boy carried himself like a storybook general and spoke like a priest, and despite her new station in life, Lienna had a knee-jerk impatience for the highborn and the holier-than-thou that already coloured her opinion of the House Leader. Of course, to give him the slimmest benefit of the doubt, it was also possible that the twist in her stomach when he spoke was just a remnant from the carriage ride. 

She knew it would probably be prudent to get on good terms with His Excellency Heir Apparent Auberon von House Leader at some point. Lienna recognized the name “Galatea”, but not its origin; she could infer from the boy’s attitude and his appointment to House Leader that it was probably one of Faerghus’ noble families, but she couldn’t think of anything about them save a vague, sourceless familiarity with the name itself. The only Faerghian noble family she knew other than Gautier and Blaiddyd was Fraldarius, the name of the family territory bordering Gautier to the South. From her seat, she squinted at the chalkboard, searching for the name. From the brief review Hima’s priest had given her, she recalled that Houses Gautier and Fraldarius often intermarried; if a Fraldarius was attending, there was a chance they were a relative of her fiancé, or some other relation who could otherwise be useful to her in the future. 

Unfortunately, the professor’s chickenscratch was nigh-incomprehensible, and while Lienna thought she saw a surname that started with ‘F’, she couldn't make out the rest. Ugh, and they chose this guy as their professor? She'd have thought such a lofty institution would at least have chosen someone who could write. She suppressed a groan; the prospect of asking around for names and titles made her head spin, and introducing herself to everyone like a child appealed to her no better. Dammit, why couldn't things ever be easy? 

Fine; she supposed her crash course in high society started now. Rising from her seat as smoothly as she could manage, Lienna did her best to stand up straight and made her way to the front of the room under the pretense of looking at the board. Should she curtsy? No, no - Auberon was set to be a Count and she a Countess, so they should be on equal footing… probably. She decided against it; if she was going to err, she’d rather come off as rude than groveling, and the curtsy she'd practiced exactly once wasn't exactly up to snuff anyway. Instead, she offered the House Leader one of those barely-there noblewoman smiles the handmaidens at Francis’ keep kept giving her and introduced herself. 

[color=baa7c7]“A pleasure to meet you, Auberon,”[/color] she greeted, trying to mimic that nice-but-distant tone she had grown accustomed to from the ladies of Francis’ household. Polite, but not too invested; from her short time in the keep, it seemed to her that the role of a highborn woman was to like everything and everyone a [i]little[/i] but to like nothing a [i]lot[/i]. [color=baa7c7]“I'm Lienna Orhneaht, betrothed to Count Francis Gautier. I look forward to the coming year with you and the rest of the Blue Lions. Is anyone you know attending this year?”[/color] 

Lienna hoped the question didn't out her too quickly. Surely highborn kids had cousins all over the place, and many of them went to the Officer’s Academy, right? There were probably lots of students who knew each other, especially within the same House. 

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