Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 143

Chapter 143: Box That Passed Through Daughters

Ruelle lay on the bed with her eyes fixed on the ceiling. The wooden box had been opened many times before, yet never once had she imagined she had been holding something more valuable than a gem.

"Lucian... are you awake?" Ruelle asked softly.

There was silence except for the winter’s wind howling through the night beyond the walls and windows.

"No."

A small, unconscious smile tugged at her lips at his response from the other side of the bed. She turned to her side and asked, "Where did you learn about the other belladonna ingredients? Mr. Savnitique only spoke about extracts from rare plants. The books never mentioned the rest."

"From the witches in the deep woods," Lucian replied.

She asked, "But aren’t they notorious for hoodwinking people? Wait—you mean that’s how the books got it wrong?"

"Witches don’t speak for free," Lucian said. "They speak when the offer interests them."

"What did you offer?" she asked curiously. Humans? Land? Jewels? She doubted any of it would interest witches.

"My time," Lucian stated.

She frowned slightly and repeated, "Your time?"

"I worked for her. For a month," came Lucian’s unbothered words. "She was an old witch who made me work in the swamps. Digging for bones and dissecting dead animals, running errands for her. In return, I learned everything there was to know about forbidden potions. The only flaw was her trying to kill me when she thought I wasn’t looking so that she could use a vampire’s body."

Ruelle’s eyes widened and she sat upright. "Your family didn’t mind?" A lord’s son working as a witch’s helper would have caused chaos. She couldn’t even imagine him doing that. "How old were you?" she asked.

"Thirteen," Lucian answered. There was a small pause before he added, "I told them I was spending a month at a relative’s place. Said I needed time. Dane was in his third year then."

"And no one found out?" Ruelle asked him with interest.

"My father did," Lucian replied before continuing to speak, "A couple of days after I returned home. My aunt sent a letter saying it was a pity I hadn’t been able to visit." He let out a small exhale.

It was hard to imagine Lucian as a troublesome boy. She wondered what else he had done that no one spoke about. After a moment, she murmured softly,

"I wonder how it would have been if we had met when we were little."

Lucian stared at her in the darkness for a long moment before questioning, "Why?"

When he had first realised who she was, he had been quietly annoyed by how easily she had forgotten him. If he told her now, she might feel indebted to the past, and Lucian had no interest in affection that came from debt. He would rather she walk toward him of her own will.

"I just thought it would have been interesting," she said before pursing her lips. But then again she doubted he would want to do anything with her at all. He would have probably killed her, she thought dryly.

After a moment, she spoke again, her voice softer this time as she changed the subject, "Did something happen this evening? For the minister to come all the way here to see you?"

"It was about June Clifford’s case," Lucian said. "We have found something worth investigating."

"Really?" Ruelle pushed herself up slightly on one elbow, turning toward him in the dark. "Does that mean the murderer will be caught soon?" she asked, a note of relief in her voice whilst a yawn escaped from her lips.

"Yes. And if not caught, then at least they will be forced to make a mistake," Lucian responded, watching her nod.

She lay back down, pulling the blanket to her chin as her thoughts returned to her mother’s box.

"Lucian. Will you help me create the potion?" She asked.

"No."

That was fast, she thought to herself. Blinking at the darkness, she replied, "Oh—okay."

"Do you know why the potions of Belladonna are famous?" Lucian asked her.

Ruelle slightly scrunched her nose and answered in doubt, "Because it lets you see the dead?"

"Belladonna is not famous because it lets people see the dead. It is famous because it uses the living," Lucian explained and Ruelle quietly listened. "A single breath, a whisper, even a thought from anyone in the room can change what answers. If I were to so much as whisper, it might answer to what I want to summon, not what you want."

There was a small pause before he added, his voice quieter now,

"My soul is touched with corruption. People have tried before. Some meant with corrupted heart tried to call angels and summoned something else entirely. If it were my potion, I would not care what answered, so long as something did. But this one is yours."

For a moment silence filled the room before Ruelle asked, "The witch who taught you... did you not ask her how to get rid of the corruption in vampires?"

"Witches don’t go out of the way to help humans or vampires. Unless they fall in love with one of them," Lucian explained in a matter-of-fact tone, sliding his hand behind his head. "I will write everything down for you so you can follow the instructions."

"That would be helpful. Thank you," Ruelle murmured, grateful for his help. The books only had half the truth, while Lucian seemed to know the rest.

She turned her head to look out the window, where snow was falling quietly. She then murmured,

"You know...My mother and I share similar names. Ruelle and Mirabelle." After a pause, she added, "There’s a ’Ell’ even in–"

"Belladonna," Lucian completed her sentence. "It was probably your mother who gave you the name. Belladonna must have passed the box to her daughter, and that daughter passed to the next until it came to you."

Ruelle smiled, responding to him, "That’s like telling me I am a witch." And when she was met with silence, her eyebrows rose in surprise, "That’s not possible..."

"I am not certain. But the potion requires your blood. When you attempt the summoning, we will know." He noticed the surprise on her face turn into worry. "It is not a terrible thing, if you are a witch."

The descendant of a witch?

Witches were burned when they were found. Everyone knew that. So how could she possibly be one? Ruelle asked herself.

The following day in the afternoon, Ruelle and her classmates stood before the maze, their breath visible in the frozen air. The ground was hard with frost beneath their boots, and the snow along the hedges had turned to a thin sheet of ice. The first years stood in a line, and beside them, the final years waited in silence.

When Ruelle stepped in front of the bucket, she ran her fingers through the sticks, as if trying to choose carefully. Then another hand slipped into the bucket beside hers. She had seen that hand enough times to know who it belonged to. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

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