Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112: The Edge of Control

When the song came to an end, Edward was quick to usher Ruelle out of the grand hall as if keeping her away from Lucian, leading her toward the lake.

"Did that song play longer than the others?" Edward muttered with a faint frown.

But Ruelle hadn’t paid attention to it, not even realising she had given her last dance to Lucian. The thought came to her too late that this might have been one of the last times she would ever stand that close to him.

Once she moved out of his room, there would be no reason for them to speak. No shared space. No quiet crossings of paths.

Why didn’t she tell him then? She wondered, a soft sigh leaving her.

When they reached the lake behind Sexton, a narrow wooden boat waited by the shore. A lantern swayed gently from its pole, casting gold ripples across the dark water.

"Hermes," Edward called lightly, "the food is still warm, I hope? We wouldn’t want Ruelle thinking I lack planning skills." 𝓯𝙧𝙚𝒆𝙬𝙚𝒃𝙣𝙤𝒗𝓮𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Hermes, who stood near the tied boat, bowed. "Everything is prepared, Your Highness."

When the wind from the water slipped easily through the thin fabric of Ruelle’s sleeves, she shivered.

"Looks like you’re feeling cold, aren’t you?" Edward said, already shrugging off his coat. "Here, you can use this," and he draped it over her shoulders before she could protest, his smile almost boyish.

Ruelle hesitated only for a moment before pulling the coat closer. Refusing would have been foolish, and the night air was biting harder by every passing second.

Edward looked pleased that Ruelle needed him, and he felt nothing less than a knight in shining armour.

After five minutes, Edward and Ruelle were sitting inside the boat on opposite ends, away from the shore and under the vast sky. She could hear the distant sound of crickets and the soft splashes of the water.

"Have you gone boating before, Ruelle? We can do it together, and I will catch you a big fish," Edward promised her, which made Ruelle smile. "Also, you are the first woman I ever took out like this. This is special," he let her know.

"I will look forward to it, provided I am not your mistress," Ruelle added, making Edward laugh.

The lake was quiet and peaceful, in contrast to the grand hall, which was filled with music and chatter. Ruelle turned to the side, her gaze looking at the wavering water. But the prince’s eyes were on her as he stared at her.

When Ruelle glanced back at Edward, he cleared his throat and rose from his seat as if adjusting his posture. She advised him,

"You should be careful. Boats like these can wobble."

Edward waved his hand, already stepping toward the edge. "This one won’t. I paid double so it wouldn’t dare sink or break. It is sturdy." His shoe nudged the rim of the boat as if testing a loyal servant. "Ruelle, I meant to ask you something."

"What is it?" she asked, while watching him.

"I’ll be visiting the castle within a week or two," he began, bending slightly to look at the surface of the water Ruelle was looking at earlier. "And I was thinking I would like for—"

A guttural snarl ripped through the darkness. It came from the tall grasses near the shore, which was low, wild, and far too close. Edward jerked upright from being startled and in the process, his foot slipped on the wooden paddle. The boat rocked sharply under the sudden shift of weight.

Splash!

Water swallowed the rest of Edward’s sentence as he fell right into the cold water. Ruelle’s eyes widened, and she exclaimed, "Edward...?!"

Edward resurfaced from the water, his eyes looking obviously annoyed.

He turned to look in the other direction, muttering, "Don’t look at me. Never have I been this embarrassed..."

Ruelle would have said that she warned him, but maybe it was too soon. Instead, she replied, "There’s nothing to be embarrassed about when it comes to friends. Let us blame the paddle..."

Far away behind the tall grass, Zhenya huffed before turning and thumping out of there.

"Your Highness!" Hermes shouted from where he stood, wearing a troubled look.

Soon Ruelle and Edward returned to the shore, with water dripping from the prince’s head and clothes. "We should have you changed right away," the attendant spoke, before turning to Ruelle.

"I think I would like to retire for the night. Dancing seemed to have pulled out my energy for the day," Ruelle informed them softly.

"I apologise that the night had to be cut short so abruptly," Edward sighed and Ruelle shook her head.

"That’s fine. Regardless, I had a lovely time. Thank you for arranging it." Ruelle bowed before making her way to the room. She didn’t feel like going back to the ball, especially when she was worried about running into the minister she had avoided, she thought to herself.

Back in the grand hall, the music and chatter rolled on beneath the chandeliers. Lucian had just finished speaking with a minister when Blake stepped to his side.

"Minister Gaile looks thoroughly drained tonight," Blake observed. Standing next to Lucian, she could see the women glancing at him every now and then.

"He creates his own burdens," Lucian stated, almost absently. "And seems reluctant to part with them."

One corner of Blake’s lips tugged at his words. Her attention shifted to the dance floor, landing on Sawyer, who was currently surrounded by female admirers near the edge of the dance floor and asking him to dance with them.

"How many invitations did you receive this evening?" Blake asked, already aware several women had gathered the courage to approach him, only to leave as he looked at them as if they didn’t exist.

"I don’t remember," Lucian replied. His gaze drifted past the crowd, settling briefly on the grand hall’s exit. The same doors Ruelle had disappeared through earlier.

Not far from Lucian, Alanna stood with a glass of wine in hand she had long forgotten to drink. Her eyes never left him as he spoke with Blake Stellaris.

When her gaze shifted, she caught sight of the servant.

He glanced toward her, nervous, and subtly brushed his fingers against one of the glasses at the back of the tray. Seeing the drink was ready, she gave him the slightest nod. The servant started to walk carefully through the crowd, the tray balanced in trembling hands. Step by step, he drew closer to Lucian.

Just as the servant reached the spot—

"Miss Beckett?" Mr. Mortis’s attendant suddenly blocked her view and her lips curled in an instant sneer. "Minister Griswold requests your presence in the west wing."

"Step away," Alanna tried to shoo him. She leaned to the side and caught Lucian holding a glass. But Blake was too and her lips pursed. Did he pick the one that was intended for him? Her eyes darted across the crowd for the servant, but he had already disappeared into the sea of guests.

"Miss Beckett," the attendant called again.

Alanna shot him a glare. She snapped, "I don’t know this minister. Tell him I’ll meet him later and that I am busy today."

"I’m afraid it must be now," the attendant replied smoothly. "Minister Griswold has expressed interest in assisting your family."

His words made her look at him. Her expression shifted from irritation to calculation. Why was a minister approaching her and not her father?

She looked back toward Lucian once more and noticed he was still speaking, his glass untouched.

"Shall we go?" asked the attendant, and her jaw tightened.

"Fine," the vampiress agreed at last, the word clipped. She handed her untouched drink to a servant without looking. "This had better be quick."

The potion would take time to take effect, she said to herself. She would return before anything was missed and with that thought, she followed the attendant with quick footsteps.

On the other side of the grand hall, Blake watched Alanna glance at Lucian, and she sighed at the irremediable woman, who had been vying for her friend’s attention since the beginning of joining Sexton.

"Well now, Blakey," came a smooth voice at her side, "what are you doing hiding over here instead of dazzling the dance floor?" Dane appeared beside her as if he’d always been there, hands tucked lazily into his pockets.

"The floor was getting crowded and I wanted some space. It is better to be just a viewer from this side."

Lucian looked at the path as if the cold air held a thread through the scent. It wasn’t perfume but something softer and warmer. One that belonged to her.

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