Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 211

Chapter 211: The Third Carriage

"His Highness hasn’t returned, but the Ravencrofts are here," Maude continued to report at the entrance, to which Lucian gave a nod. "They are in the drawing room."

Ruelle rested her hand over Lucian’s and instinctively leaned closer, lowering her voice as though sharing a secret. She said, "I’ll go and see my cousin."

Lucian nodded. But before she could step away, he caught her gently by the wrist and pressed a kiss against her temple. Warmth rushed to her cheeks. Her eyes quickly fell on Maude, who looked ahead, as though she had witnessed nothing at all.

"I’ll see you in the drawing room," Lucian said.

Ruelle smiled before making her way through the mansion.

The long corridors had grown quieter with the approaching evening. Lamps and lanterns had already been lit along the walls, their golden glow stretching across the polished wooden panels while the last traces of daylight filtered through the tall windows. As she passed one of them, she paused for a brief moment. The heavy clouds that had followed them throughout the weeks had begun to thin, allowing ribbons of pale blue to emerge once more.

She then continued to walk in the direction of Lachlan’s room. The door wasn’t completely shut and she pushed the door open.

"Cousin Lachlan, why didn’t you go with Hai—"

The rest of the sentence disappeared. A box was left scattered on the ground and her cousin was sitting on the floor, but not alone.

One hand of his had twisted tightly into the front of Dane’s shirt and so were Brother Dane’s hands on her cousin’s. Though Dane laid flat on his back with all the composure of someone merely taking an afternoon nap.

For one long, quiet moment, they simply stared at Ruelle, who stood at the door.

"...We were sparring," Lachlan said too quickly.

Ruelle blinked. His face was unusually red and Brother Dane looked amused.

"Indeed," said the pureblooded vampire smoothly as they let go of each other’s shirts. Once Lachlan stood up while glaring at the man, Dane rose with an effortless grace despite the faint redness colouring one cheek. "I’ll leave you two to catch up." His smile widened ever so slightly as he walked past Ruelle.

Only when she saw Dane disappear at the corner of the corridor did she look back at Lachlan, whose lip had a cut and this had her frown. She asked him,

"Do you and Brother Dane not get along?"

Lachlan finally looked at her. The concern in her expression had him quickly respond, "Of course not."

"I know you don’t think highly of vampires," Ruelle continued gently, "but the Slaters are good people. And Brother Dane is as important as you are to me. He looked after me when I first came to Sexton."

Only because it benefited his younger brother, Lachlan thought to himself. That one wasn’t a fox but a hyena. His jaw tightened at the memory that flashed uninvited into his mind, which had occurred a moment before she had arrived.

Managing a smile, Lachlan replied, "You’re worrying over nothing. Everything is fine between us. It is common for men to spar with each other. It is how you get to know each other."

Ruelle still didn’t look entirely convinced.

After watching the doorway for another moment, she let out a quiet sigh before crouching to gather the things scattered across the floor. One by one, she placed the fallen books back into the box and her cousin helped her with it.

"Did you two expect one of you to get hurt?" Ruelle asked him before getting up and placing it on the table.

"You smell like herbs," Lachlan changed the subject.

Ruelle raised her sleeve to her nose and he was right. She must have grown numb at the smell and she decided to change her clothes before greeting the other people in the mansion.

"I heard you went to visit the Elder Minister."

"I did," Ruelle nodded with a thoughtful expression.

"How did it go?"

She smiled faintly. "They welcomed me kindly." But her smile faltered and she added, "I also learnt things I wish I hadn’t."

Carnifex’s expression resurfaced in her mind. The hesitation in his eyes before he had finally spoken. The quiet guilt of a father who had watched eighteen years pass from afar. Without realising it, her fingers tightened slightly against the edge of the table.

Lachlan then asked her, "Do you want him to walk you down the aisle?" She turned to him. "He is your father. Traditionally, that place belongs to him."

She shook her head and replied, "That place belongs to you. It has only been two days since Father and I truly came to know one another. But you’ve always been my family." Her eyes lowered to her hands resting neatly in her lap.

"I will always be your family, Ruelle," Lachlan let her know, his words gentle. He then chuckled and said, "I’m not saying I wish to give up the honour. But if you ever change your mind, I won’t feel bad."

Ruelle smiled at his words and said, "Thank you for being considerate, Brother Lachlan."

By the hour of dinner, some of the officials had dropped by the Slater mansion to take another round of reports of what had occurred in the witch’s house.

"Was there a reason for what both of you were doing in a witch’s house, Mr. Slater?" one of the officers questioned with a look of suspicion.

"My fiance wanted to visit the town, as her aunt lives there. We were taking a walk when the person invited us, saying she knew her aunt," Lucian lied with a straight face.

Thankfully, Ruelle didn’t have to answer much with Lucian, Lord Azriel and Prince Edward there. Prince Edward did most of the chasing away.

The rest of the night passed quietly, and Ruelle curled next to Lucian and fell asleep.

The following evening, the Slaters’ Mansion had taken on a livelier atmosphere than usual. Servants moved briskly through the corridors with neatly folded garments, polished shoes and trays carrying refreshments, their footsteps echoing across the floors before disappearing up the grand staircase. Although it appeared as though the household was getting the young women prepared to look pretty, most of the servants were centred around Prince Edward.

Outside the mansion in the courtyard, three carriages stood waiting side by side beneath the fading evening sky, their polished black exteriors catching the warm glow of the lanterns that had already been lit around the estate. Coachmen adjusted the harnesses, while the horses exhaled fog.

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