Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 177

Chapter 177: Price of simplicity

Since the first moment Ezekiel Henley’s eyes had fallen on Ruelle Belmont, he had been taken in by her. Beneath the old clothes, small house and the fear sitting in her brown eyes at the sight of the debt collectors, the misery surrounding her had only made her seem more beautiful to him.

Though he had ended up marrying the younger sister in pursuit of a position within the courthouse, he had always believed Ruelle would eventually find her way toward him on her own.

The position he had sacrificed so much for no longer felt nearly as important as the growing realisation that Ruelle was slipping further beyond his reach.

He was aware that she had spent her entire life starving for affection. The thought that she had found comfort in another man settled bitterly in his mind.

"Mr. Henley?" The man who had lent the newsletter noticed Ezekiel’s hands crumple it.

"My apologies. I got distracted lately." Ezekiel turned to the man while loosening his fingers around the ruined paper. "I will buy you a fresh one," offering a polite smile.

"That’s alright. It can still be read. For a moment there, you looked as though you wanted to strangle someone," the man laughed, taking the newsletter from Ezekiel’s hand. He then said, "Oh, isn’t she your wife’s sister? The Slaters are from the old bloodlines, aren’t they? Looks like she climbed rather high. Congratulations!"

Something cold passed through Ezekiel’s eyes. He murmured, "It certainly appears that way..."

"I must say, when I first heard you were getting married to one of the Belmonts’ daughters, I wondered why you would do it at all. Harold had too much debt. Might I add he didn’t seem to want to stop last night either. But it seems you will be gaining the favour of the Slaters now," the man patted Ezekiel’s back before he started to walk. "You ought to treat me to a cup of tea for your sister-in-law’s news!"

Ezekiel’s jaw tightened faintly and he tried to smile. "Right."

Instead of taking the carriage, Ezekiel continued walking deeper into the forest until the sounds of the town disappeared entirely behind him. Before he realised it himself, his fist collided against the rough bark of the nearest tree. The impact sent snow cascading from the branches above, scattering heavily onto the ground around him.

"I should have gotten rid of Caroline before the marriage," the thought escaped from his gritted teeth.

His hand slipped into his coat pocket, and he pulled out the embroidered handkerchief that belonged to Ruelle. "I am finding it hard to forgive your actions... but I will make you understand with whom you should have remained beside."

After several hours, Ezekiel arrived before a shabby house that stood at the edge of a quiet village, smoke curling slowly from the chimney, which was hidden by the winter’s air. He knocked on the door before the wooden door creaked open. A woman peered through the narrow crack of the door.

"I need your help," Ezekiel said calmly. "I brought you souvenirs." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Stepping aside, he revealed the carriage waiting behind him. Inside, two unconscious children sat slumped against the seats.

Back in the Slater mansion, by the hour of noon, Ruelle had spent much of her time accompanying Maude through the mansion while the head housekeeper carried out her duties. Despite the sheer size of the place, everything somehow continued running with careful order beneath Maude’s watchful eye.

"Please remember that you cannot carry things from here, Miss Ruelle," Maude informed her, as if remembering what she had tried last time in the kitchen. "The future lady of the house should not be carrying things through the kitchen."

"Even if it is for her family?" Ruelle asked, puffing one side of her cheek slightly.

The older woman’s expression remained as composed as ever. "Yes, even then. It might seem strange, but the staff will grow uncomfortable if you continue trying to work alongside them. You can ask the minister’s assistant. This is what is followed."

Ruelle turned to look at Peyton, who quietly followed them at a distance without bothering them.

"But what if..." Ruelle hesitated briefly before continuing beside Maude. "I want to cook for my husband and his family? That is how women back where I come from usually showed affection."

The words left her mouth naturally before she properly realised it. Heat crept faintly into her face, though she kept her gaze forward while walking beside Maude.

Maude’s lips pursed faintly at Ruelle’s words before she replied, "If you truly wish to do so, Miss Ruelle, then inform me beforehand so the kitchen may prepare the necessary ingredients and staff for you."

"Miss Ruelle, Master Lucian has returned to the mansion."

Ruelle’s eyes brightened at the words. "I will take up the next lessons later. I forgot my scarf upstairs."

Before the older woman could properly respond, Ruelle had already turned and begun making her way back through the corridor, her footsteps quickening against the floor.

"Miss Ruelle, one of t—" Maude began, only for her words to trail off as she watched the young woman disappear around the corridor.

By the time Ruelle returned downstairs with her scarf in her hand, she caught sight of Lucian standing at the bottom of the stairs. His wine-red eyes lifted the moment she appeared. It was only while hurrying down the remaining stairs that Ruelle suddenly became far too aware that she had rushed downstairs simply because Lucian had returned.

And lost in that thought, her foot missed the step.

A startled breath nearly escaped Ruelle when her body tilted forward, only for Lucian’s hand to catch firmly around her waist before she could fall further. She felt herself being pulled back into balance before their eyes met. She could feel the strength of his hand holding her through the layers of her dress.

"I thought you intended to obey the treaty’s conditions. Were you that eager to see me?" Lucian’s voice came low beside her and heat rushed into her face at his words.

At the top of the stairs, Peyton remained silent at the sight of it. After all, the human would have fallen down the staircase entirely if Lucian had not caught her.

"I did not wish to keep you waiting," Ruelle replied softly, only to realise a moment too late what her own words sounded like.

Lucian’s head tilted subtly.

"And yet you are still the one making me wait," he murmured before his fingers loosened around her. "Were you with Maude?"

Ruelle gave him a nod as she smoothed the fabric of her skirt. "She has been teaching me a lot of things I didn’t know about the mansion," she answered as they made their way out of the mansion. "Have you eaten?"

Lucian hummed in response.

"In the courthouse?" Ruelle asked curiously as they walked with the minister’s assistant walking not too far behind them while not crowding them. She wondered if one of the humans had been summoned before the person’s wrist was cut off in front of Lucian.

Lucian noticed the slight frown pull on Ruelle’s face before she fixed her expression when their eyes met. He said, "With the number of humans bought there and the hatred many of them carry toward our kind, it is the easiest way to draw blood without any contamination."

"I thought the courthouse would have precautions against something like that," Ruelle murmured as an internal conflict arose.

The thought still left an uncomfortable feeling inside her chest. The humans willingly arrived at Sexton before they were eventually sold to others, yet the image of blood being drawn beneath fear continued lingering unpleasantly within her mind. But somehow, the thought of someone trying to poison Lucian’s drink unsettled her even more.

If Lady Irina had been killed during the war... had there been attempts on the rest of the Slater family afterwards too? Ruelle quietly wondered to herself.

"Walls only keep out predictable threats," Lucian said calmly.

When they arrived at the doors, one of the servants stepped forward and reached for Ruelle’s coat from the stand. But before it could be handed to her, Lucian moved first. His long fingers found the coat and he then stretched the collar open.

Ruelle blinked. For a second, confusion flickered across her features before it dawned on her that he wanted to help her wear it. She smiled and said,

"I can wear it."

"I know," Lucian answered before adding quietly, "But I want to dote on you. I can, can’t I?"

Since the last few days, there were things she was still getting used to. Lucian’s affection wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t quiet either. It came in moments she least expected, as if those were the most natural thing to do.

Feeling a flutter in her chest, she turned her back to him and raised her arms. Her hands slipped into the sleeves one after another, the fabric offering more warmth than she last remembered.

Ruelle felt Lucian guide the coat while not touching her skin but being so achingly close. His fingers adjusted the collar and she felt the brush of air as his hands moved, while they never touched her skin.

And she felt him step back.

When Ruelle turned to face him, her breath seemed to catch in her throat from the look in his eyes. It was a hunger so carefully controlled that it seemed like tenderness.

"Shall we?" His voice was soft on Ruelle’s ears.

Ruelle quietly nodded. The doors opened and they stepped outside into the cold, before climbing inside the carriage with Peyton, leaving the Slaters’ mansion behind.

After what seemed like almost an hour because of the snow that had slowed down the travel, they finally arrived at the house Ruelle had been intending to visit since almost a week.

The abandoned house looked the same as it did a few days ago. The gates still creaked as they walked past it and the path to the door had been cleared of the snow. Just as Ruelle was about to walk past the threshold, her movements slowed as if she would hallucinate and hear more voices, but she didn’t. Instead she received a quiet but suspicious look from Peyton.

Making her way to the drawing room, she walked to where the plant had grown taller, its leaves spread out. When she put her hands on the pot, nothing changed, and a slight disappointment fell on her face.

It was probably because she wanted to hear the boy’s voice again, as she believed it belonged to Lucian.

"Let me take it," Peyton offered, taking the pot in her hands before stepping outside the room.

Ruelle’s footsteps led her outside the room, her fingers gliding against the wall as if she would pick something. But instead, she was led to where Lucian stood before a portrait.

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