Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122: The Veiled Subject

The last piece of log of wood in the fireplace collapsed with a soft crack as the birds chirped and stirred Ruelle awake from her sleep. She stretched her hands, her muscles loosening, and when she realised she had slept in the bed, her eyes flew open. She sat upright, her gaze sweeping the couch and then the rest of the room.

Lucian had left early, just as he always did. Once she was dressed, she left her room to meet her friends.

Ruelle had only descended two flights of stairs when she saw Caroline, standing at the next flight with her arms crossed, as though she was waiting. Upon catching sight of her, her sister stopped her. "I need to speak with you."

"I thought we agreed there was nothing left to talk about," Ruelle replied, trying to pass but Caroline only stepped into her path. "Move."

"Do you like Ezekiel?" Caroline demanded. "Are you interested in him?"

Ruelle stared at her. "He is your husband," she reminded.

"I know. But I am not certain you do," Caroline said, her lip curling in bitterness. "Getting me to Sexton because you could not marry him yourself. The elder sister forced to watch the younger wed first—"

"Caroline. Mr Henley does not concern me," Ruelle frowned at the absurdity of her sister’s implication.

"Then you are not jealous?" Caroline pressed, her voice thinning. "There has never been a moment? Not a look... a touch?"

The memory of Ezekiel’s arms around her in the shadow of the bell tower flashed through Ruelle’s mind, and her hands clenched.

Noticing the silence, Caroline whispered in horror, "It happened... didn’t it? Tell me it is not true. Was it during a lesson? After?"

"Nothing improper passed between us."

"You are lying!" Caroline accused, her eyes beginning to fill themselves with tears. "I see the way he looks at you now." After a pause, she then demanded, "Then why refuse the prince? If you are not waiting for Ezekiel, then why?"

"I am not required to answer your questions. We are past that point," Ruelle said.

Caroline’s lips trembled as if she wanted to say more. But at the same time, Hailey called from several steps away from them, "Ruelle, are you coming?"

"Yes," Ruelle answered her friend before glancing at Caroline. She doubted her sister would understand if she spoke of what had happened the night before the wedding. "You need not fear me," she said quietly. "I have no wish to stand between you and your husband or your marriage."

Walking past Caroline, Ruelle joined Hailey, who frowned, looking behind her before they walked down the rest of the stairs.

As they walked through the corridors, Ruelle’s eyebrows furrowed. She could not tell whether Sexton had driven her sister to this state or whether it was Ezekiel himself.

Hailey glanced toward the corridor ahead and thoughtfully murmured, "I wonder if there are rules about instructors spending time with the students out of class. I don’t think I’ve seen them together."

Was that the reason her sister was spiralling?

Caroline belonged to Sexton now, and places like these did not protect humans. They appraised them before choosing how they might be of use.

Upon entering the dining hall, the voices seemed to fade in Ruelle’s ears. Her gaze moved and came to rest on the instructors’ table. She noticed Ezekiel’s eyes were already on her, his expression composed and gentle. Her sister’s words echoed, ’He’s never looked at me like that.’

Ruelle forced her gaze away and moved toward the serving table. The scent of bread and broth rose in the warm air, but her head felt light. She reached for a plate, her fingers unsteady.

She had told herself that it had been a mistake. A misunderstanding. But what if the note was never meant for Caroline?

No, that couldn’t be it, could it? Her own thoughts began to turn against her and her hand tightened on the edge of the plate. After filling her plate, she blindly followed Hailey and sat down at the Groundlings’ table.

"....can stay during the weekend," Kevin responded to something Hailey had said.

"You don’t have to worry about us. Our luggage isn’t much. Ruelle and I will be just fine," Hailey laughed before adding lightly, "Unless you have something planned that day?"

Kevin gave Hailey a quiet glare, which Ruelle missed entirely, as she realised she hadn’t decided on what to do about the new quarters situation. It had been only two days since the ball, and too much had happened in too little time.

"There’s actually a fair that is being set up in a nearby town. Do you both want to visit it?" Kevin asked them, his eyes coming to settle on Ruelle, who looked slightly distracted. "Ruelle?"

"A fair?" Ruelle repeated, giving it a thought and then giving a nod. "We can attend it."

"Well, I need to let my parents know. Don’t need them thinking I turned into someone’s meal during the ball," Hailey laughed.

Ruelle then stated, "I thought fairs were usually held during spring. And this is winter..."

"I heard the town hosting the fair belonged to the humans several years ago. But now it is under the vampire’s care and use," Kevin informed them. "The fair is going to be run by Halflings."

Hailey decided, "We can go visit it once we finish moving into our new quarters..."

And while her friends continued their conversation, Ruelle’s eyes lazily moved through the room, avoiding the instructors’ table before they halted upon Lucian, who was seated at the Elites’ table. He sat with a cup of blood tea, eyes closed as though enjoying it.

Then his eyes opened and found hers. His expression remained almost indifferent, yet something colder flickered in his gaze, a quiet displeasure that did not need words and she swallowed the food she had just put in her mouth.

He took a slow sip from his cup again before he turned to respond to something Sawyer said.

During the afternoon at the arts class, the students were instructed to choose a landscape and paint it upon their canvases. The room filled itself with the soft sound of brushes and the faint scent of oil. Lanterns had been lit around to brighten the room.

The instructor, Mr. Swan moved between the easels, offering quiet corrections. When he came to stand behind Ruelle, his brows drew together.

"Miss Belmont," he said at last, his tone carefully neutral, while his hands held together in front of his chest. "May I ask what you intend to paint?"

Ruelle stared at the canvas before her. Her thoughts had wandered far away from the assignment. She had layered blue upon blue until the colour deepened into something almost dark.

Noticing the brush set aside by the student next to her, which was dipped in white, she quickly reached for it and scattered uneven flecks across the surface.

"The night sky," Ruelle answered with a faint smile.

Mr. Swan regarded the canvas in silence, his expression tightening rather than easing. "How fortunate," he replied dryly, "that you did not present it untouched and declare that God was yet to create the world."

A few nearby students stifled their laughter and a sheepish smile appeared on her lips before she tried to fix it.

"She must be sick from the prince’s absence," one of the Elites remarked with a snicker.

Mr. Swan did not smile and he stated, "Unless His Highness himself appears to petition for your grades for this subject, Miss Belmont, which I find unlikely, given his own deficiencies in the arts. You would do well to amend your work." He glanced at his pocket watch before adding, "Two minutes."

"Grade?" Ruelle blinked, the word catching her off guard. "You did not mention—" and the same moment, her sleeve brushed the canvas. A white dot turned into a streak. She cleared her throat and said, "That is a... meteor in the night sky."

Mr. Swan’s eyes narrowed. He remarked, "If quick thinking were the subject, Miss Belmont, you would have passed. Unfortunately, this is art."

When the lesson ended two minutes later, chairs scraped and students began to step out. Ruelle hurried to the front and bowed.

"I apologise, Mr. Swan. Grant me fifteen minutes, and I shall present you with better work. My skill isn’t something that deserves a direct fail."

Before he could answer, Caroline gave an impatient harrumph. "It is good that these things don’t worry me. It is not as though I shall end up at the bottom of the barrel."

Mr. Swan’s lips thinned. He responded, "Mrs. Henley, you are at the bottom of the barrel. Which is precisely why you ought to pay attention more than anyone present. If we were to rank all prospective students to be sent out, you would be the last name called."

"You wanted equal treatment. So let us do this right," Caroline decided with her hands on her hips. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

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