The Week of Cracks

Daniella’s P.O.V.

Thursday, 12.25 - Thursday, 1.1

⸻

The banquet did not recover.

Though the musicians struck their strings again, though servants rushed wine and platters of sugared fruit to distract the guests, the rhythm of the evening never quite returned. Daniella had tilted the balance of the room. Where once all eyes drifted toward Lila, now glances followed the younger sister in her dark gown. Whispers curled like smoke between nobles’ lips.

Daniella heard them as she moved through the hall:

“Impossible… that was no textbook spell.”

“I swear the air itself shook. That kind of resonance…”

“Ancient magic? I thought it was lost.”

She kept her chin high, each step deliberate, though inside her pulse thundered. She had not expected the spell to manifest so powerfully. Yet she would not let that tremor of doubt show. For once, she had stolen their attention, and she would not give it back.

Across the hall, Lila continued to smile — radiant, poised, charming. But Daniella saw it. The slight stiffness in her shoulders. The faint quiver of her fan as she waved it. A perfect mask, but a mask nonetheless.

⸻

Later, when the guests departed and the great doors closed, silence settled over the Arison estate. Only family remained in the vast hall: the duke, the duchess, and their daughters.

The duchess spoke first. “Daniella,” she said, her voice measured, “what was that display?”

Daniella folded her hands neatly before her. “A spell I have been studying, Mother. Did it not please you?”

The duchess’s eyes narrowed. “Pleasing is not the concern. That was no sanctioned form of spellwork. Where did you learn it?”

“In the library,” Daniella replied smoothly. “In one of the forgotten wings, where the dust is thickest.”

The duke, who until now had remained silent, leaned forward. His gaze, normally absent when cast upon Daniella, sharpened. “You mean to say you deciphered an ancient grimoire on your own?”

“Yes, Father.”

For a long moment, the hall was silent but for the crackling of the hearth.

At last the duchess turned, her voice crisp. “Lila, accompany your sister to the study. You will review what she has learned and ensure it is… safe.”

The order carried the weight of dismissal, but beneath it Daniella heard the unspoken command: Control her. Contain her.

Lila dipped her head gracefully. “Of course, Mother.”

⸻

The days that followed were uneasy.

At breakfast, Daniella noticed her father’s eyes lingering on her longer than usual. He asked her questions — What have you studied at the academy? Which disciplines interest you most? Questions he had never once directed at her before. Lila’s answers, though as polished and intelligent as ever, were no longer the only ones considered.

When guests visited during the week, they asked after both sisters. Daniella caught her name more often on their lips, paired with words like potential and talent.

It was subtle, almost invisible — but to Lila, it was unbearable.

Daniella felt the tension coil tighter with each passing day. In their shared study sessions, her sister’s voice remained honeyed, but her corrections carried an edge sharp enough to cut.

“That rune should bend slightly left,” Lila would murmur, leaning over Daniella’s shoulder. “Of course, it’s understandable that you’d overlook it. Ancient theory is rather… obscure.”

But when Daniella adjusted the rune and the spell lit brighter than intended, the faint flicker in Lila’s expression was unmistakable.

⸻

By the fourth day, the duchess herself entered the study. She stood watching as Daniella demonstrated another fragment of the old spellwork — a shield of translucent light that stretched wall to wall. The duchess’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Remarkable,” she admitted at last, though the word sounded reluctant. “And unstable. If others learn you are dabbling in such arts, it could tarnish this family.”

Daniella lowered the shield. “Or elevate it,” she replied quietly.

The duchess’s gaze sharpened. For the first time, Daniella felt as though her mother truly saw her, not as an afterthought but as something dangerous.

⸻

That night, Daniella overheard raised voices through the walls of her chamber.

“She cannot be allowed to eclipse Lila!” her mother hissed. “Our daughter’s future — her betrothal — depends on the stability of her image. If Daniella overshadows her, the crown prince himself may begin to question—”

Her father interrupted, his tone stern. “And would that be so terrible? A daughter who wields lost magic… think of the strength it lends to our house.”

Silence followed, sharp and suffocating.

Daniella pressed her hand to her chest. For so long she had been invisible, and now, within the span of days, she had become a point of contention sharp enough to split her family.

And she liked it.

⸻

By the end of the holiday week, the cracks were clear. Lila’s smile remained dazzling, but her laughter rang brittle. The duchess watched Daniella like a hawk, her every expression weighed and measured. The duke spoke to her more than he ever had in her life.

For the first time, Daniella Seraphina Arison had disturbed the order of things.

And though she did not yet understand the true depth of her power, one thing had become certain: the days of being overlooked were finished.

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