You Are My Encanto

Chapter Ten

The Madrigal's, as well as the Guzman's, had already taken their seats by the time you and Tío Agustín finally made it to the dining room. The tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a blade. Especially between Mirabel and Dolores, whose intense eye contact had stayed unwavering from the moment you walked in.

Abuela smiled unnaturally at you and Tío Agustín when the two of you finally walked in, gesturing for the you to have a seat. There were only two remaining empty chairs—one to Mirabel's left at the far end of the table, and another positioned right between Camilo and Félix. You figured the placement of your seat must have been intentional, per Camilo's request. It was strange though. Usually you were seated between Camilo and Dolores?

Graceful as ever, Isabela managed to look effortlessly, flawlessly annoyed at you as you sat across from her, although her eyes reflected something a little deeper. You raised a quizzical brow until she finally looked away, redirecting her attention to Mariano beside her.

You allowed your gaze to glide across everyone seated at the table. It stopped abruptly on Señora Guzman, and she looked at you almost judgmentally. Her brow raised into a sharp peak, her lips pinched into a faint scowl. Though, when Abuela's attention was directed to her, it all melted away into a smile, and she leaned forward in her chair. That cold slate in her eye was now staring straight at you.

"Well, you must be the young miss Y/n? Is that right?"

Careful not to seem disrespectful, you cast a nervous glance to Agustín, and set down your utensils.

"Sí, Señora," you answered steadily. The woman nodded, seemingly pleased with your response.

"My, you've certainly grown since the last I've truly seen you, haven't you? You were merely a little girl the last time we all got together like this." You nodded along, forcing a passable grin.

"Yes, it would seem so. I believe I was eight, if I do recall. It was Isabela's birthday." The woman nodded again, and you received a look from Abuela that portrayed something like pride in your mannerisms. That, or the fact that you'd successfully managed to bring the conversation back to Miss-Señorita-Perfecta-Isabela.

"What, per tell, was your gift again, my dear?"

You weren't sure why your heart rate spiked at Señora Guzman's question, but you ended up stuttering as you attempted to explain.

"Well...My...My gift is actually..." You could feel Camilo's hand rest warmly on yours under the cover of the table, which rested on your lap. You'd been clenching your fists around the material of your skirt, but Camilo managed to discreetly soothe your fingers, intertwining them with his own. You did not turn back to look at him, but you squeezed his hand in thanks. So, you drew in a deep breath, and continued.

"Lo siento, Señora. My gift is the power of light. I can summon the glow of the sun in the palm of my hand. I can expel darkness, or call upon it. I bring warmth and illumination. I can create magnificent light shows as well. I'd love to show sometime, if that's alright."

Señora Guzman's expression lost all tension, melting away to genuine amazement. Even Abuela was beaming with pride.

"My, that would be wonderful." She playfully elbowed Abuela, a sly grin adorning her face. "If only she were a few years older, she would have made another equally marvelous bridge between our two families." The woman laughed it off as a joke, but something else flared up in Abuela's eyes. Opportunity. A cold spike of dread pierced your gut, but it melted away when you felt Camilo's hold on your hand tighten. You turned your head to look at him, but he kept a straight face. You couldn't help but notice a little vein popping out in his neck though.