Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 149

Chapter 149: What Is Given Cannot Be Refused

On their way to the castle, two royal guards rode ahead of the carriage, their silhouettes steady while four followed behind. Inside the carriage, Ruelle sat quietly with the others, a faint dread settling low in her stomach, which only deepened with every beat of the horses’ hooves.

The place was less than an hour’s ride from the fair and as they neared and soon the castle came into view. Tall spires pierced the sky, their peaks nearly swallowed by the heavy stretch of darkened clouds above.

"Why has the king summoned us as well?" Ruelle asked, glancing at Edward, who seemed far more interested in the passing view beyond the window.

"The guards must have noticed a group of humans lingering around me at the fair," Edward said lightly. "Though I suspect it was the drunken man who started the fight that drew their attention. Otherwise, I doubt anyone would have recognised me. My disguise was rather good."

"Your Highness, I think it would be best if we got you into a fresh pair of clothes before meeting the king," Hermes suggested quietly.

"Sure. By the way, Ruelle, I would like to show you the gardens," Edward said, bright with enthusiasm. "They are rather well kept. I do not think you would have seen anything quite like them."

This was not the time to think of gardens, Ruelle thought in worry.

When the carriage finally came to a stop before the castle’s entrance, one of the guards stepped forward and opened the carriage door.

As Ruelle stepped down, her eyes took in her surroundings. Her gaze did not linger long before it fell on the men who had attacked them earlier. They were being taken down from the back of the carriage now as though they were luggage.

Edward stepped inside and Hermes followed just behind him. As Ruelle and her friends crossed the threshold, a guard’s voice spoke behind them.

"Not you."

Ruelle turned at once and noticed two guards had stopped Claude from entering the castle. The guard spoke firmly, "Coachmen remain outside."

Edward had already walked a few steps ahead, unaware of what happened at the entrance. When Ruelle’s eyes met Claude’s, he offered her a small, reassuring smile. He informed her, "I will be waiting here, Miss Ruelle."

For a brief moment, her lips pursed. Then she gave a quiet nod before turning back and continuing inside.

She walked with the others, her gaze lifting briefly to the high ceiling above, when the sound of approaching footsteps was heard loud and clear.

Her eyes lowered in time to catch a tall man approaching, his broad shoulders draped in a coat lined with dark fur, moving with quiet authority. His dark red eyes were steady, unyielding, a faint cut resting across his left brow as though it had never quite faded. A trimmed beard framed the man’s jaw, making his expression severe.

This was Edward’s father, King Septimus, Ruelle realised.

A brief silence fell with the footsteps coming to a halt. Soon she and the others were quick to offer a bow.

"And what exactly am I to make of this?" King Septimus hummed, his deep voice reverberated through the hall. His gaze moved from the tattered clothes to the blood that soaked through it. "You seem to have injured yourself rather carelessly, Edward."

"It is a small injury," Edward replied. "Nothing worth concern, Father."

"Is that so?"

There was no haste in the king’s movement as he stepped towards his son. When he stood before him, his gaze lowered briefly to the wound, and he murmured, "Let us see how small it truly is."

Before Edward could respond, the king’s hand lifted. His index and middle finger pressed into the injury without warning.

Ruelle, who caught sight of this, her eyes widened. What was he doing...? She noticed how Edward’s body tensed, his hands tightening and his teeth clenched. He had begun to bleed once again.

King Septimus withdrew his hand with quiet displeasure.

"Negligible," he repeated, as though testing the word. His gaze lifted back to Edward’s face. "You would do well not to misjudge your own condition. A man who cannot assess his injuries cannot assess his battles."

"I am aware of that..." Edward’s face tightened in pain.

"Edward, I don’t want to see you in this state again. Else it would make me think you have grown weary of your royal name," King Septimus stated, and as if to make a point, his fingers curled, making Edward cough out blood. "I sent you to Sexton to learn, not to make a spectacle of yourself, but to prepare for what you are meant to inherit one day."

Ruelle’s hands clenched at her sides, her fingers pressing into her palms. He was hurting an already injured person! As if sensing her gaze, the king’s eyes moved to her, and she quickly lowered her eyes.

Edward’s breath hitched as the king’s fingers finally withdrew. He drew in a slow breath, and he huffed,

"For a moment, I thought you meant to examine my heart more closely, Father."

The king let out a low, dry chuckle, as though faintly amused by his son’s words. His gaze returning to the prince, he remarked, "One must be certain that nothing of value is lost when it strays beyond the walls."

Ruelle noticed how Hermes stood tense in the king’s presence, as though even a breath out of place might be wrong. After all, he was the prince’s attendant, and the prince had been hurt while under his watch.

Kevin who stood next to her had turned pale in the king’s presence, while she could only see Hailey’s hands trembling so that she tried to keep still.

"I must be your favourite son," Edward muttered under his breath, his tone light despite the strain. "You seem particularly thorough with me."

King Septimus did not respond to that. Instead, his gaze fell on Hermes. He demanded, "Who dared to lay hands on him?"

’You’, came the collective thought from everyone standing there. But no one dared to say it out loud.

"It was three humans, my king," Hermes answered, his head lowered.

At once, the king’s gaze moved and fell upon the three humans standing behind.

Ruelle felt the weight of the king’s gaze and she instantly felt a weight press against her chest. She quickly clarified,

"It was three men at the fair."

"Yes... three men," Hailey added, lifting her head only briefly before her gaze dropped once more.

Ruelle did not wish to know how the king would react if the truth came to light. That this had begun because of her... no, because of her father. She had seen how he treated his own son and she did not risk it. She intended to keep her head where it belonged.

"I have already dealt with them, Father," Edward answered, a trace of dismissal in his voice.

The king placed a hand against Edward’s back, the gesture firm. He said,

"Nonetheless, an example must be set." His gaze then shifted. "Hermes, have them brought to the main hall."

"At once, my king," Hermes replied, more than willing to carry out the order.

Edward glanced down at his chest, his fingers brushing lightly against the blood that had begun to seep through his clothes. When he looked up again, he noticed his father’s gaze resting on the three humans behind him. As though only just remembering, he introduced.

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