Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 202

Chapter 202: After The Funeral At Brackenwell

"...and we commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

The priest’s voice drifted over the cemetery, steady and practised, while Ruelle watched the ropes slacken little by little until her father’s coffin disappeared into the grave. The mourning clothes she wore softly ruffled because of the breeze.

Lucian stood on one side of her, while Lachlan, Lord Azriel and Dane on the other. Behind them a few members of the courthouse were present and they were mostly acquainted with Lord Azriel or Lucian. Mrs. Belmont and Caroline were absent, as both had taken ill during the night, their bodies weakened by relentless vomiting, leaving Maude and Hailey to care for them back at the Slater mansion.

The priest stepped aside and instructed, "Please come forward and pay your last respects."

Before Ruelle realised everyone had begun moving, she felt a familiar warmth settle lightly against the small of her back. Lucian guided her and her eyes dropped to the open grave.

She bent, gathering a small handful of loose earth between her fingers. When she let it fall, the soil struck the polished wood with a dull thud that disappeared into the silence almost immediately.

How pitiful, the thought came quietly. Her father had spent his entire life hating and belittling her existence. Yet she was the only family member standing here.

"What a tragedy for him to have passed like this."

"A terrible loss."

The condolences came one after another. One of the men who had once mocked her now removed his hat before talking to her.

An officer approached Lucian, bowing before quietly asking if he might spare a moment. But before he left, his eyes sought hers. She gave him a nod to assure him she would be alright.

"Before travelling back," Lachlan suddenly said behind, amusement finding its way into his voice, "I had prepared a rather lengthy lecture for the man you were going to marry."

Ruelle turned towards him.

The corners of his mouth had lifted into a crooked smile she hadn’t seen in a long time. He offered his arm and she wrapped her hand around his, and together they wandered farther down the stone path where the voices from the funeral faded beneath the rustling trees.

"You still can," Ruelle replied looking at her cousin. "I don’t think Lucian would mind."

"I suppose I should..." Lachlan looked ahead as though genuinely weighing the idea. He added, "I am your brother, even if only distantly. It would be improper if I didn’t threaten the man who intends to marry you."

Ruelle let out a small laugh beneath her breath.

Lachlan’s gaze drifted toward the little crowd gathered near the grave where Lucian stood talking. Even from where they were, he noticed the pureblooded vampire’s eyes look for Ruelle.

Ruelle heard her cousin let out a quiet breath and he murmured, "I don’t think I’ll be needing that lecture after all."

Another woman from Brackenwell came to pay her condolences. "I am sorry about what happened. I know how much your father loved you and how close you were."

This seemed to have struck a nerve in her cousin, who stopped and opened his mouth to respond. But she tightened her hand around his arm and replied,

"Excuse us."

"How annoying," Lachlan muttered, glancing over his shoulder. His mouth twisted with open displeasure. "All these rats wanting to get close to you know when they don’t know a thing."

"It is okay. It is almost done," Ruelle murmured with a shake of her head.

Lachlan’s jaw tightened and he said, "He was a terrible man. He should have known that love isn’t measured by obedience or by fear. But it was only directed at you."

"Thank you for looking out for me those years," Ruelle murmured, as her cousin had been a light in the darkness that she been placed in.

Ruelle remembered a year ago, when Lachlan had found her in the market with black and blue marks on her hands. It had made him upset and he had told her to come along with him, to leave Brackenwell. But she wasn’t able to, as she had been mentally a prisoner of her family. Unable to let go of them.

’Come with me, Ruelle! I promise to take care of you. This... This, what Uncle is doing, is not right. This isn’t how love looks like!’ her cousin’s worried voice echoed from the past.

"I barely did anything," Lachlan murmured, disappointment weighing every word. "When your engagement was broken... I wasn’t even there."

Ruelle looked at him, before a small smile found its way onto her lips. She let him know,

"You did far more than you know." When he turned to meet her eyes, she continued, "You were the first person who told me something was wrong. Even if I didn’t agree to it."

She had not understood it then and it had taken Lucian’s support for her to realise.

Beyond the people gathered around the grave, Lucian still stood with the minister, listening more than speaking. His expression gave little away, and as if sensing her gaze, he turned to meet her eyes and she smiled.

She was now surrounded by people who loved and cared for her.

Silence gradually settled over the cemetery as people made their way back to their carriages. The murmurs that had filled the grounds only moments earlier drifted farther away until they became little more than distant voices carried by the wind.

Ruelle found herself looking towards the line of carriages before her eyes fell on Elder Minister Carnifex. He stood beside one of them with Peyton, the two appearing to exchange a few quiet words. Though Peyton spoke, the minister’s eyes seemed elsewhere.

They were fixed beyond the rows of headstones. Ruelle followed the direction of his gaze almost instinctively, only to realise he was looking at her mother’s grave.

When Ruelle’s eyes met Carnifex’s eyes, his lips pressed together for the briefest moment, as though he hadn’t expected her to notice where he had been looking. Then, as quickly as it appeared, the look disappeared behind the familiar composure he always carried.

He said something to Peyton and then made his way to her.

Beside her, Lachlan, who noticed the minister approaching, said quietly, "I’ll be nearby," before stepping away without making it appear obvious.

Ruelle’s attention returned to the elder minister. As he came to a stop before her, she lowered her head in greeting. She would have addressed him as minister, but after knowing he was her father, it felt a little odd.

Carnifex returned the bow with politeness. He then cleared his throat quietly when two seconds passed, asking,

"How are you doing?"

"I am fine..." Ruelle answered softly.

Almost without thinking, her eyes wandered across the cemetery until they settled upon Minister Sylvan. He stood some distance away, speaking to another official, yet she had the unmistakable feeling that he had been watching them for far longer than either she or Carnifex had paid attention to. Their eyes met only briefly and the man smiled.

"Do not concern yourself with him."

Carnifex’s voice was calm, yet there was a firmness to it that drew Ruelle’s attention away from the departing figure of Minister Sylvan.

"Azriel mentioned what you heard between him and your father," his eyes followed Sylvan’s carriage for only a brief moment before returning to her. "I have men watching his every movement. Whatever he intends to do, he will find very little room to do it. You should concern yourself with your wedding instead."

But was it possible? Ruelle wondered.

Even though her father... Harold Belmont was dead and buried now, there was the question of the witch and Ezekiel on hand.

Carnifex remained quiet for another moment, as though deciding whether to continue. He then said,

"I also discovered something else. The money your father kept borrowing..." his hands disappeared into the pockets of his dark overcoat, "...Sylvan was the one supplying it. Did you never wonder why men continued lending Harold Belmont money after he had already proven he would never repay them?"

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