Delicate Frailty : The Witch Legacy

Edith opened her eyes to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

Today was her seventeenth birthday.

A smile immediately spread across her face. She stretched beneath the blankets, then sat up with a small burst of excitement.

“~Happy birthday to me~” She hummed the familiar tune as she got dressed. After brushing her long brown hair and checking her reflection in the mirror, Edith hurried downstairs to join her family for breakfast.

She expected balloons, a cake, or at least a chorus of birthday wishes.

Instead, when she stepped into the dining room, she found a stranger sitting beside her older brother, Mark.

“Good morning,” Edith greeted them cheerfully.

The unfamiliar man turned toward her. He had a thick mustache, a heavy beard, and a round face that reminded Edith of Santa Claus. Despite his intimidating appearance, his smile was warm and friendly.

“Good morning, dear,” greeted Mr. Matkinson, Edith's father, who sat at the end of the table.

Edith walked toward her usual seat without taking her eyes off him.

Her father cleared his throat. “Edith, I believe it’s time I introduced you to Mr. Boschamp.”

Edith gave the stranger an awkward smile.

'Boschamp? What a strange name.'

The man suddenly laughed.

“Yes, Boschamp is rather unusual, isn’t it?”

Edith stopped walking. Her smile faded.

'Did he just hear my thoughts?'

She stared at him, but Mr. Boschamp merely pulled out a chair and gestured for her to sit down.

Before Edith could ask anything, her mother stood behind her father. “Sweetheart, there’s something you need to hear from both of us.”

Edith’s eyes brightened.

At last. They were going to wish her a happy birthday.

She sat down eagerly, waiting for the celebration to begin.

But her father’s next words destroyed that expectation completely. “It’s time for you to return to your real parents, Edith.”

For a moment, Edith could not understand what he had said. She stared at him. “…I’m sorry. What did you say?”

Her mother lowered her gaze. “You’re not our biological daughter, Edith. We aren’t your real parents.”

The room fell silent.

Edith’s face went pale. Her fingers curled tightly against her dress.

Mark immediately reached across the table and took her hand.

“Can you explain this properly?” Edith asked, her voice trembling. “Please?”

Her mother took a deep breath. “Seventeen years ago, shortly after you were born, your uncle, Anthony Boschamp, took you away from your birth mother and brought you to America.”

“Why?” Mark interrupted. “Why would anyone separate a mother from her child?”

Everyone turned toward him.

Mr. Boschamp slowly raised one hand. Then he stood and walked toward the large window overlooking the garden. The morning sun cast his broad figure across the floor.

“Allow me to continue, Lindsey,” he said.

Edith watched him carefully.

“Your birth mother was Letitia Boscho. She belonged to the Boscho family, an ancient lineage that had lived in England for centuries.”

Mr. Boschamp paused.

“Letitia married a man named Frederick Collier. They were considered a perfect couple—until another woman became obsessed with Frederick.”

“Who?” Edith asked.

“Angela Franisca.”

Mark groaned. “What’s the point?”

“Get to the important part, Boschamp,” Edith’s father added.

Mr. Boschamp blinked nervously. “Oh... Yes. Of course. I apologize.”

He turned to face Edith.

“The Boscho, Collier, and Franisca families are all descendants of powerful magical bloodlines.”

Edith’s eyebrows rose.

“Magical bloodlines?”

“For centuries, the Boscho and Franisca families have fought over control of the magical community. The Boschamp family has usually held the highest position among witches and wizards.”

“That still doesn’t explain why I was taken,” Mark said.

Mr. Boschamp’s expression became serious.

“Every female descendant of the Boscho family is born with an extraordinary gift. Their magical abilities are far stronger than those of the male descendants.”

Edith swallowed. “What kind of gift?”

Mr. Boschamp looked directly at her.

“The women of the Boscho bloodline possess the mark of a high-ranking witch.”

Edith nearly choked.

“A witch?”

Mark jumped to his feet. “Wait a minute, Dad! Where did you find this man? Did you hire a performer for Edith’s birthday?”

“Mark,” his father warned, “be respectful. He is your uncle.”

“This is obviously a joke.” Mark moved toward his mother, but Lindsey shook her head.

“It isn’t a joke, sweetheart.”

“Then where is Edith’s mark?” Mark demanded. “Why has she never used magic? If she’s supposed to be some kind of blessed witch, shouldn’t she have shown signs of it by now?”

“Her power was sealed after she was born,” Mr. Boschamp explained. “The seal will break when she turns seventeen.”

Edith’s heart began to pound.

“Wait,” Mark said. “Why was her power sealed?”

“So she could be protected,” Edith’s father answered.

Mr. Boschamp nodded. “Letitia knew how dangerous it would be for her daughter to grow up among the magical families. When Letitia was young, she was repeatedly attacked by dark magic sent by members of the Franisca family.”

His voice grew heavier.

“She and Frederick feared that their daughter would suffer the same fate. That was why they entrusted her to distant relatives from the Collier family.”

Edith stared at him. The words echoed inside her head.

She is a Matkinson fake daughter.

Her real parents...

Her entire life had been built on a secret.

“Letitia and Frederick didn’t abandon you,” Mr. Boschamp continued. “They sent you away because they wanted you to survive. Once you turned seventeen, your seal would begin to weaken. Your powers would awaken, and you would have to return to the magical world.”

Edith tried to remain still. She failed. Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks.

“So I was abandoned by my mother…” she whispered. “And now she wants me back?”

“Edith—” Lindsey began.

“She gave me away!” Edith cried. “She separated me from the only family I’ve ever known!”

Lindsey hurried to her side and gently stroked her hair. “Letitia didn’t give you away because she didn’t love you.”

“Then why did she let me go?”

“Because she loved you enough to keep you alive.”

Edith covered her face with both hands. Her shoulders shook as she tried to hold back her sobs.

Mark knelt beside her. “Edith…”

She lowered her hands slowly. Her face was flushed, and tears still clung to her eyelashes.

“Were they good parents?” she asked.

No one answered immediately. Then Mr. and Mrs. Matkinson exchanged a sad glance.

“Yes,” Lindsey said softly. “They were good people.”

“Very good people,” her father added.

Edith wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

She was still hurt. Still confused. But beneath the pain, something stronger had begun to grow.

A need for answers. A need to see the people who had given her life.

Edith rose from her chair and straightened her shoulders. “I want to meet them.”

Her voice trembled, but her determination did not. “I want to meet Letitia and Frederick.”

Outside the dining-room window, the wind suddenly swept through the garden.

Somewhere far away, hidden beyond the ordinary world, something ancient stirred.

And on Edith’s seventeenth birthday, the seal around her power began to crack.