The Daughter They Sacrificed Became the North’s Greatest Mage!

Chapter 1: The Daughter in the Attic.

Jalena’s POV

There was something beautiful about the world before everyone else woke up.

I lay beneath my thin quilt, staring through the small window beside my bed as darkness slowly surrendered to morning.

My room was tucked beneath the highest roof of the Leigh estate, where the ceiling slanted so sharply I had learned exactly where not to stand too quickly. It wasn't much; a narrow bed, an old wardrobe, a washbasin, and a little wooden table beneath the window.

But the window was my favorite.

From here, I could see beyond the estate gardens toward the distant towers of Bouvier. The sky was still deep blue, but along the horizon, soft streaks of lavender and gold had begun to appear. For a few precious minutes, everything was quiet.

No bells. No orders. No hurried footsteps…just me and the sunrise.

I smiled.

"Good morning."

I wasn't sure who I was speaking to; perhaps the sun. With a small sigh, I pushed away my blankets. Today would be busy. The entire Leigh estate had spent nearly a week preparing for tonight's celebration.

Jonie Leigh had officially been named The Belle of Bouvier.

It was an honor bestowed only once every five years upon an unmarried young woman considered to embody the finest qualities of Bouvier's nobility, beauty, grace, magical talent, social standing, and accomplishments worthy of representing the Eastern Kingdom's capital throughout the coming social season.

And this year, the honor belonged to Jonie.

Of course, no one seemed particularly surprised. By the time I washed and dressed in my gray servant's uniform, the servants' corridors were already coming alive. I hurried downstairs.

"Jalena!"

I nearly jumped. Head Maid Velma stood at the bottom of the staircase with her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Good morning, Madam Velma."

Her eyes narrowed.

"What time do you call this?"

I glanced toward the clock.

"Five twenty-seven."

"Precisely."

I blinked.

She sighed. "Breakfast trays. Flowers in the west hall. Madam Leigh wants the silver polished again. And Lady Jonie has changed her mind about the table linens."

"Oh."

"Again."

"Understood."

Velma's stern expression cracked slightly.

"Well…get a move on child."

"Yes, Madam Velma."

I hurried toward the kitchens; behind me, I heard her mutter, "And eat something today!"

I smiled. Velma was stern, but she was fair. And she cared. The kitchens were already chaotic. Cooks shouted over bubbling pots while maids hurried between counters carrying trays. I immediately tied on an apron.

"Here."

Marta, one of the younger maids, shoved a warm roll into my hand. I stared at it.

"What's this?"

"Breakfast."

"I have to prepare—"

"You have to eat."

"But—"

"Jalena."

I smiled sheepishly.

"Thank you."

I ate while arranging the family's breakfast trays. By seven, everything was ready. I entered the grand dining room carrying a silver pot of tea. Duke Trayton Leigh sat at the head of the table, already reading correspondence.

Even dressed casually, he carried the sort of presence that made people straighten instinctively. One of the most respected medical mages in the in the entire Kingdom, Duke Leigh didn’t just receive attention…he commanded it.

Beside him sat his wife, Duchess Josette Leigh. She was elegant, perfect…beautiful. People traveled from distant kingdoms seeking audiences with her, particularly those desperate for answers that ordinary eyes could never uncover.

And across from them sat Owen and Jonie…the famous Leigh twins.

At twenty years old, Owen had already achieved a military position most men twice his age would envy. And Jonie…was perfection combined with grace. Where Owen's talents inspired awe, Jonie's inspired wonder.

"More tea."

I immediately moved toward Duchess Leigh.

"Yes, Madam."

Her gaze remained on the invitation list.

"Has the eastern ballroom been inspected?"

"Madam Velma inspected it last night."

"Have her inspect it again."

"Yes, Madam."

"And tell the gardeners the roses along the southern terrace looked uneven yesterday."

"Yes, Madam."

"Jalena."

I turned. Jonie held out her cup.

"Mine is cold."

"Oh! I'm sorry."

I quickly replaced it. Her gown was pale pink today, and her golden-brown hair fell in soft curls around her shoulders. She truly was beautiful.

I couldn't help smiling.

"Congratulations, Lady Jonie."

She paused. For the briefest moment, something flickered across her face…surprise, perhaps? Her eyes met mine.

"On becoming the Belle of Bouvier," I added softly. "It's a wonderful honor. You truly deserve it."

The table went strangely quiet. Jonie's lips parted. For one heartbeat, she almost looked as if she might smile. Then her gaze dropped to my uniform.

"Thank you."

She cleared her throat.

"My gown needs steaming before this evening."

"Of course."

"And don't touch the embroidery directly."

"Yes, my lady."

Owen barely glanced up from his plate.

"Where's my coffee?"

"Oh! I'll get it."

"It's fine." He waved dismissively. "Just bring it when you return."

Duke Leigh folded his correspondence.

"How many confirmations?"

"Three hundred and eighty-seven," Duchess Leigh replied.

Jonie brightened.

"And that's without the royal household."

Her mother's smile became knowing.

"Patience, darling."

Jonie's cheeks pinkened. Owen groaned.

"Don’t worry…he’ll be here tonight."

Jonie’s face flushed.

"Owen!"

The room filled with laughter as I quietly left to retrieve Owen’s coffee.

By midday, I’d polished silver, carried linens, rearranged flowers, delivered messages, helped steam gowns, and climbed the grand staircase so many times I stopped counting.

"Jalena."

I turned. Jonie stood before three gowns.

"The silver or the blue?"

I studied them seriously.

"The silver."

"Why?"

"The candlelight will make the beadwork sparkle."

She glanced toward the mirror.

"Hmm."

Then she pointed.

"Silver."

Her attendants immediately moved. As I turned to leave, Jonie called, "And Jalena?"

"Yes?"

Her gaze flickered over me. "Make sure you're serving in the eastern ballroom tonight."

I nodded. "Of course."

"And...don't stand near the portraits."

I wasn't certain why. Still, I smiled.

"Of course, my lady."

By evening, the Leigh estate had transformed.

Magical lights floated beneath the ballroom ceiling like tiny stars. Musicians played from a gilded balcony while tables overflowed with delicacies from across the Eastern Region.

And the guests...I'd never seen so many important people in one room.

Nobles from throughout Bouvier filled the estate alongside diplomats, wealthy merchants, decorated mages, military officers, and aristocratic families from neighboring Eastern kingdoms.

Yet all eyes eventually found Jonie. She descended the staircase in silver; and for a moment, even I forgot to breathe. Tiny blossoms shimmered along the railing as she passed, unfurling as though the flowers themselves wished to celebrate her.

Applause soon erupted making me smile brightly. Of course they loved her. Jonie was beautiful. Talented. Powerful…and exceptional.

Everything a Leigh should be and everything I wasn't.

I wasn't beautiful like Jonie. I had no extraordinary talent that made rooms stop and stare; but that was all right. Some people were simply born brighter than others.

Tonight belonged to her.

Several young heirs quickly surrounded Jonie. I recognized sons of dukes, marquesses, wealthy magical houses…and then the crowd shifted. Someone had just arrived.

The Crowned Prince.

Prince Quincy Wallen entered beside several royal attendants. Owen immediately crossed the room and clasped his hand as they laughed like old friends. Jonie, meanwhile, suddenly became very interested in smoothing her dress.

I hid my smile.

Prince Quincy was certainly handsome; but the way he looked at Jonie made something obvious even to me…perhaps tonight wasn't only a celebration.

I watched another heir offer Jonie his hand. Then another. Marriage proposals would probably begin arriving tomorrow. My gaze lowered to the tray in my rough and calloused hands. I wondered what it felt like to have someone look at you that way. A faint, sad smile touched my lips.

One can only daydream I suppose.

I took a deep breath and turned; when suddenly…

CRASH!

"Oh!"

Glass shattered. The ballroom went silent.

"Oh my gosh!" I dropped immediately to my knees. "I'm so sorry! I'm terribly sorry!"

Whispers erupted.

"Jalena!" Duchess Leigh hurried toward me, her face tight with horror. "What's the meaning of this?"

"I didn't see—I'm sorry!"

I frantically gathered the broken glass.

"Careful."

A man's voice stopped me. I looked up…and froze…Prince Quincy. Oh no. Jonie rushed forward with Owen and Duke Leigh.

"Your Highness!" Jonie's face paled. "Please forgive her. She's terribly clumsy sometimes."

My stomach dropped. I bowed until my forehead nearly touched the floor.

"Your Highness, please forgive me."

For one terrible moment, no one spoke. Then Prince Quincy chuckled.

"That’s quite alright." I slowly looked up. He smiled. "It was an accident."

Duchess Leigh laughed delicately. "Your Highness is very gracious."

Murmurs of agreement spread.

"How generous."

"Such a kind prince."

Jonie's cheeks turned pink.

"Indeed. Very generous."

Prince Quincy's eyes moved toward her.

"Lady Jonie."

"Your Highness."

"Congratulations."

Her blush deepened.

"Thank you."

They stared at one another a moment longer than needed. I lowered my head, smiling despite myself. Of course he smiled brightly at her.

"Jalena." Duchess Leigh's voice pulled me back. "Take this mess to the kitchen."

"Yes, Madam."

I gathered everything and hurried away. My heart didn't stop pounding until I reached the kitchens. I dumped the broken glass carefully into the disposal bin.

"Prince Quincy," I whispered.

Then smiled; at least he was nice. And the way he'd smiled at Jonie...perhaps there really would be a royal engagement soon. The thought made me happy for her.

"Jalena."

I jumped. Velma stood in the doorway.

"Madam Velma!"

Her expression was unusually gentle.

"Madam Leigh has ordered that you remain upstairs for the rest of the celebration."

My fingers tightened around my apron.

"Oh…alright."

"You understand?"

I looked toward the distant ballroom doors. Music drifted faintly through the corridors. Laughter. Applause. Celebration…and then nodded.

"Of course."

Velma watched me. Her filled with a look I was all too familiar with.

"I can finish here."

"No, it's all right." I smiled. "I made the mess."

"Jalena—"

"I'll clean it."

She hesitated before leaving. I swept the last glittering pieces of glass from the floor. I wasn't angry…truly. This was simply how things had always been.

When important guests arrived, I stayed away. When family portraits were taken, I found something else to do. When people asked questions, I disappeared.

And when the Leigh family shone brightest...I returned to the attic.

Never seen. Always hidden. I set the broom aside and slowly climbed the servants' staircase toward my little room beneath the roof. Because that was my life.

My name was Jalena Leigh.

Second daughter of Duke Trayton and Duchess Josette Leigh. Sister to the celebrated Jonie Leigh. Sister to General Owen Leigh…and, though almost no one outside this house knew it anymore…I was their triplet.

The forgotten third child of one of the greatest magical families in Bouvier.

And I had learned a long time ago that sometimes loving your family simply meant being happy for them...even from the attic.