Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 64

Chapter 64: Sting of the flower

Though it was only afternoon, the sky had darkened with heavy clouds. The lamp posts around the Sexton buildings were now lit with bright flames while the lands around were only going to get darker.

"...thank God," Ruelle murmured, her finger gliding down the parchment until she found Hailey’s name. One subject failed just like her and Kevin had barely passed.

Lucian, who stood just behind her, let his gaze shift from the parchment to the curve of her spine as she leaned in toward the board, head slightly tilted, hair loose near the nape. It was the kind of detail he shouldn’t have noticed—the way her ribbon had loosened.

Her dress clung differently now compared to when she had first arrived, which was looser around the shoulders. It was evident she wore hand-me-downs.

Almost every Groundling at Sexton did, but he had expected her family to be better off than most. Sexton paid a gold coin to every Groundling’s family each year—a quiet compensation for the lives offered up inside these walls. Yet it seemed the coin never reached her.

"Ah, he gave me a high score..." Ruelle said under her breath after tracking her name back and stopping at Mr. Jinxy’s subject. "I guess I was worried for nothing."

"Don’t let comfort become a crutch. You’re still ninth in your class," Lucian reminded her with his hands resting in his trouser pockets.

His words stung more than Ruelle had expected. "I only ranked that low because I got a zero in Seduction Techniques," she retorted defensively and turned to look at him.

It was then that she realised how close they stood. He wasn’t looming but he stood there with his height casting her in shadow. She could see those deep red wine-like eyes that stared at her.

"Why does it feel like you are blaming me, Belmont?" His words were smooth with a slight smile, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She felt it. That quiet pressure, like gravity weighing against her shoulders.

Instinctively, Ruelle took a step behind, and her spine hit the board.

"Did I?" she asked before looking away, unable to hold his eyes any longer.

"Let me do some quick math for you. If you had scored perfectly in Seduction Techniques, you would have ranked third," he paused, his gaze unmoving. He added, "It’s rude to place blame where it doesn’t belong."

With that, Lucian turned and began to walk.

Was he mocking her or did he hold high expectations from her? She asked herself. No, why would Lucian even bother about how she did when he had gone so far as to fail her in one subject?

Having looked at her results, there was no reason for her to stand here any longer. She turned to leave, but not without first casting a discreet glance over her waist—trying to catch sight of the back of her skirt.

Ruelle followed quickly, her footsteps soft against the floor, trailing four paces behind Lucian. Ahead, he did not slow, but his voice carried back to her, which was low and composed when he spoke.

"You should be careful from now on," he said, without turning. "Your blood has changed."

"Because of the smell?" she asked, blinking.

"The scent," he corrected. A breath of silence passed between them before he added, "It’s different now. Faint, unless you know what to notice. Before, it might have been... below grade. Not anymore."

"Is it for the better?" Ruelle asked, hopeful. Without meaning to, she quickened her footsteps, unconsciously closing the distance between them.

Lucian’s head tilted faintly, but he still did not look back. His answer came with the same detached clarity.

"That depends. Some would call it an improvement. Others...a complication. It’s all a matter of perspective."

Ruelle followed quietly, her footsteps echoing a second behind his sharp ones in the quiet path. The corridor curved ahead.

"Do you have a sister?" she asked, the question slipping out almost absentmindedly.

Lucian didn’t glance at her, and for a moment, she wondered if she should’ve held her tongue, as he wasn’t someone who liked to make idle talk. But then he replied,

"No. One sibling is plenty. Having a little girl would have been intolerable."

This had her turn to look at his side profile. She asked, "You don’t like little girls?"

"They are a handful," he said shortly, though his tone remained nonchalant.

As they walked around the corner, Ruelle realised this wasn’t in the direction of where their room was. A moment passed before he casually said,

"If you need to send a letter home, you can use the office. My seal will see it delivered."

Ruelle blinked at him, surprised by the offer. She hesitated, then smiled faintly. "That’s alright, it can wait another week. My sister will be happy regardless... She got—" She stopped herself from rambling about things he wouldn’t be interested in.

Lucian’s eyes turned toward her—not sharp, not soft, but direct. "How old is this sister?"

"She’s only ten months younger," Ruelle answered, warmth brushing her voice. "Almost as if we are of the same age. We grew up inseparable."

He said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes suggested he was listening in a way that went beyond her words. As though he were weighing them. Silence stretched briefly, before he remarked,

"Strange. That your family chose to marry your sister first."

The smile that had lingered on her lips wavered, if only for a second. She explained,

"That’s because she found love. Or more rightly... love found her. Mr. Henley proposed marriage." She added quickly, "My parents didn’t choose one of us over the other. They just... did what came first."

Lucian’s head tilted slightly, as though aligning one piece of information with another. "Ezkiel Henley?"

Ruelle nodded, but worry slipped into her face like a shadow. She asked softly, "But... please don’t mention it to anyone. I don’t want the others thinking he’s giving me special treatment."

His gaze lingered on her a moment longer before he looked away. He responded, "His marriage isn’t worth gossiping about."

When Lucian’s footsteps slowed down, so did hers in realisation. Idiot, she scolded herself—standing now before the library doors she wasn’t even allowed to enter. Of course he was here to return the book.

But why had she followed him like some lost duckling?

She watched Lucian head toward the door. Her eyes then shifted to the woman seated behind the desk just beside the door, stationed like a gatekeeper. The woman’s presence alone made it clear: people who couldn’t pay the fee wouldn’t pass through.

"Are you planning to just stand there?"

Ruelle blinked, her gaze snapping up. Lucian had turned, one foot already past the threshold, his eyes cool as they met hers over his shoulder.

But didn’t she have to pay a fee for it?

"Get in."

She took a hesitant step forward, then another. And just as she crossed the threshold, her eyes drifted to the woman. The woman didn’t bother to look up, her fingers still skimming a ledger. As if Ruelle’s entry had been decided the moment Lucian invited her in.

The library took up the whole floor, wide and quiet. Tall shelves stretched from one end to the other. The scent of old parchment lingered thick in the air, earthy and familiar, like time itself had infused into the pages.

Truthfully, she hadn’t worried about getting in here thanks to Lucian, who had given his old books to her. But there was no harm looking around, was there? After all, her roommate had disappeared behind a pair of glass doors, which looked further restricted.

Ruelle’s fingers trailed along the spines of the books. Books lined every shelf, grouped by subject and matter, offering open access to anyone allowed through these doors.

When her fingers curled around the spine of a thick book and began to pull, a voice spoke behind her.

"That one won’t help you." She turned as Lucian stepped beside her, his eyes scanning the shelf. "What you need is this," he said, reaching effortlessly to the opposite side. He pulled out a slimmer volume and handed it to her. "The basics."

Before she could respond, he stretched for another from the shelf above, placing it neatly on top of the first. Then, a third.

"You seem to know these shelves well," Ruelle remarked, looking at how he knew where the books were. "Have you read them all?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Every book in this column?" she asked, brows lifting.

Lucian didn’t look at her as he placed a fourth book. "Every book in this library."

Ruelle blinked. The entire library? She had been too busy with house chores to have time for books. She asked him,

"Then... is there a book you don’t like?"

Lucian glanced at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before he replied,

"A few." There was a short pause before he added, "Off the top of my head—Human Lives Matter: An Ethical Approach to Coexistence. It was tragically optimistic."

She gave an awkward laugh, the kind that died halfway out. Perhaps she should have asked for his favourites instead.

The rest of the weekend passed in silence. Ruelle spent it with the books Lucian had picked out for her, sprawled by the window with her back against the wall and pages in her lap. She didn’t see much of Lucian in the evenings, nor did the Halflings cross her path at meals.

When Monday arrived, the halls of Sexton filled again with boots clattering and voices echoing in the corridors. News of the test results had already reached the students.

In the first class of the morning, which Ruelle sat with her friends, the door creaked open, and several guards stepped inside.

"These students are to come with us," one of them announced, his tone flat, his face unreadable. He unrolled a parchment and began to read aloud. "Lewis. Murphy. Watts. Cooper. Young. Walsh. Stewart. Step out of the room."

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