Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 71

Chapter 71: A Seat Among Predators

Lord Azriel’s words were neither loud nor sharp. Yet they prompted quiet snickers along the table with guests relishing the joke at Ruelle’s expense.

Hearing the lord address her as a gardener, Ruelle’s fingers froze around her fork. Heat crept up her neck as she felt the eyes along the table, which were polite, curious and cruel. Of all the people sitting here, the Slater family had reason to despise her kind as the lord’s wife had been killed by human hands. Still, she hadn’t expected it.

"It seems you are collecting job offers tonight, Ruelle. First a cobbler, now a gardener," Dane drawled with a grin. He then turned to his father and asked, "Though I’m curious, Father. When did you witness Ruelle’s talent of gardening?"

"She looks far too lovely to muddy her hands," Lady Maxine stated with a chuckle, who sat beside Ruelle.

Lord Azriel, who took a sip of the blood wine responded, "I could have sworn I heard a different name earlier this evening."

Ruelle’s eyes widened with realisation. He had caught her pouring his expensive wine into one of his plant pots. "I—didn’t mean to do that," she tried to explain and attempted a smile that only wavered at the edges.

"You shouldn’t pour things when you do not know," came Lord Azriel’s curt response as he set his glass down. Some of the guests wondered what he meant. "In gardens and in rooms, a misplaced pour ruins more than it feeds."

When Ruelle’s eyes turned to Lucian, his eyes were already on hers. At the same time, he picked up his knife and fork, the metal catching the chandelier’s light. She looked away before her gaze dropped to her reflection trembling in the water she raised to her lips.

"With respect, Father," Dane said at last, perfectly unbothered, "she’s here as my guest."

"Guests from Sexton come with bonds," Azriel replied, his tone still mild. "Bringing her here today, do you intend to redeem her for yourself?"

Ruelle coughed, the water burning her throat. She dabbed at her lips with a napkin.

"Tempting," Dane murmured thoughtfully. "Some of my cousins enjoy their attachments. But my hands are rather full this season." His eyes flicked before him. "The opposite chair, however, looks bare. Perhaps my brother’s evenings are freer than mine."

Lucian’s knife halted mid-stroke. "Keep your amusements to yourself," he replied, not looking up. The blade resumed its work, though his knuckles had whitened against the handle. "Guests are not merchandise."

"Of course not," Dane said amused, turning his glass lazily in his fingers before meeting his brother’s eyes. "You wound me, Lucian. I don’t collar guests."

But by his tone and the glint in his eyes, it was hard for anyone to believe that. A ripple of chuckles was heard from the table.

"She’s here under her own will. I only offered a seat not a chain. Isn’t that right, Ruelle?" Dane stated as he turned to glance at Ruelle, while his smile softened.

"Yes, Mr. S," she managed a smile. As the laughter resumed, she felt like she was being watched through glass.

Beside her, Lady Maxine asked Lucian, "How are the preparations coming for your council seat? Howard said the date has been set."

Lucian looked up, a flicker of attention softening his expression. "It is," he replied. "It’s going well."

The vampiress smiled, pleased.

"I cannot wait for him to join the council," Minister Gaile said not far from where they sat. "Lucian has already helped me with plenty of cases in the past two years even though he’s yet to join officially."

"You are generous, Minister Gaile. I merely lent some help where I could. The credit as always belongs to the experienced ones who have carried the weight of the council far longer than I have," Lucian responded with a small smile.

"He is too modest," Minister Gaile chuckled, saying it to the people sitting around him.

Ruelle found herself studying Lucian, remembering last weekend, when he sat with a thick book in the dining room. She doubted the other elite students worked with such quiet resolve. Her gaze drifted to Sawyer, who was laughing at something one of the guests had said.

"You must be at ease, Lord Azriel," commented a gentleman farther down the table. "Considering both your sons have never given you cause for worry. It is certain they will one day surpass the legacy the Slaters have built."

"They have been responsible and independent," Lord Azriel replied, his words laced with quiet pride.

"It is good to have two sons," an older vampire nodded his head slowly. "One who will step into the council and another who will inherit the title of lordship. Both are needed to keep the walls steady. Though I had thought the eldest might have benefited more from joining the council first. But an instructor at Sexton...especially teaching humans," he shook his head as if he found it absurd.

"One learns better at the ground level than from a high chair where much is too easily overlooked, Mr. Ackerley," Lord Azriel answered in a composed tone. It was clear that in his eyes, his sons were his finest accomplishment.

A lord might have regarded his son’s position as an instructor as a step beneath his rank, yet Lord Azriel did not seem to think so, Ruelle observed from her seat.

"Lord Slater is right," agreed one of the middle-aged vampiresses, her eyes bright with curiosity. "Dane will inherit the estate and he must learn its reins. But will there be news of an addition to the family soon, Lord Slater? Dane has long since come of age and now Lucian as well."

Dane turned amused by the vampiress’s intrigue. He grinned, "I think I am still too young to think of wedding bells. And alas, there aren’t many like you, Lady Carlatine."

The lady laughed while waving her hand. She went on, "But one needs a partner to bear and continue the lineage." Then her eyebrows furrowed in thought before she commented, "Weren’t you once betrothed? Or was it Lucian?"

The question caught most guests’ attention at the table. Most of them looked unaware about it, while there were a few who had already heard it as if it were one of the rumours.

"It was Lucian," Lord Azriel’s voice was calm as he answered.

For a moment, the sound of the silverware dulled.

At the lord’s words, Ruelle’s hand faltered halfway to her glass when she was about to pick it. Lucian was betrothed? Her eyes darted to Lucian, finding it strange to imagine him promised to someone. The same pureblooded vampire whose icy glare could freeze anyone. What kind of woman had been meant for him? One of their kind, no doubt. A woman of power, grace and old family lineage, Ruelle thought.

But Lucian didn’t seem pleased with the intruding question about the Slater family’s personal affairs. Ruelle noticed the faintest tightness near his jaw, which only one who had closely watched would have noticed as it disappeared the next second.

"It was a long while ago," Lucian broke the silence that was hiding surprise and curiosity of the guests. He continued, "Things like marriage should be thought about carefully," his voice was edged with a quiet warning against further probing on the subject.

"Lucian is right. There’s no need to be hasty about it," Lord Azriel agreed.

"Of course," Lady Carlatine murmured with a smile, dropping the subject.

The guests slipped back into their own conversations while Ruelle quietly ate her meal. She wondered what caused the betrothal to fall apart. But soon her thoughts drifted to what time it was and her eyes moved across the room in search of a clock. Instead, they met Lady Maxine’s dark red eyes, who offered her a smile.

"Has Ruelle’s room been prepared?" Lady Maxine inquired.

"Oh, that’s right," Dane mused lightly, waving his hand to a maid as if to set things in motion.

"That’s alright!" Ruelle insisted quickly. "I should head home."

Dane frowned and responded, "But it’s already late. And sending a fair maiden with no chaperone would not only be impolite but unsafe. You should stay the night. I promise that no one will dare bite you while you are asleep."

Ruelle forced a small smile, unsure whether to take his jest lightly or not. She had only intended to stay for the celebration and then return home afterwards. But asking for a chaperone would be rude...

What was she going to do?

Her uncertainty lingered as her gaze found Lucian’s. The look in his eyes was unmistakable, as if saying this was why she should have thought twice before agreeing to Dane’s invitation.

Lady Maxine noticed the silent exchange between Ruelle and Lucian. She said thoughtfully, "Dane is right. It’s unsafe to travel alone at this hour, especially with the recent deaths ghosting about the lands."

Sawyer was quick to agree. He urged, "You should stay, Ruelle. It’s only one more day. We can ride back to Sexton together."

"See?" Dane drawled cheerfully. "Everyone wants you to stay. Let the maid prepare a room for you."

"Ruelle can share mine," Lady Maxine offered with a polite smile. Ruelle’s eyes widened and she shook her head. The vampiress continued, "My husband and daughter aren’t here. And I would welcome the company."

There was warmth in Lady Maxine’s smile, but something about it made Ruelle hesitate.

A few nodded in agreement.

"Lucian is uninterested as the hunt has humans this time," someone remarked, "What about you, Dane? None of the servants in the Slater mansion are human."

The question drew curious eyes from around the table. Dane’s smile lifted slowly as he lifted his glass. "That is true," he admitted. "Which means I’ll have to borrow one of yours."

A vampiress leaned forward, her crimson lips curling. She offered, "I would be more than willing to sit this one out and offer you mine, Master Dane."

"How generous," Dane replied, amusement lacing his tone. "But I wouldn’t dream of robbing you of your hunt, Lady Barbara."

"I have two humans with me. You can take one," another guest offered.

Before Dane could answer, Renard’s voice sliced through the hum of conversation. He said with a smug smile, "Why look elsewhere when Dane already has a capable human sitting beside him?"

It took a second for Ruelle to realise what he meant and she froze. She murmured,

"Perhaps my family is waiting for me. I should leave now." And though her words were calm, beneath the tablecloth her fingers dug into her palm.

It was better than getting injured or stabbed by a vampire here! But the vampire chose to ignore her words.

"It only makes sense that the humans we bring are the ones we vouch for," Renard continued. "Otherwise, what’s the thrill? Surely she must know the Sexton’s little games like hunt and stake."

"You seem to have a poor memory, Renard," Dane replied smoothly with a pleasant smile, though his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "She’s a guest."

Renard looked unconcerned. His lips curved and he said, "A guest yes, but she’s a human. I imagine she must have some survival instincts. Unless you’re saying she’s a fawn who wouldn’t last a minute."

Lucian, who was about to leave the table, snapped his eyes at Renard, his expression unreadable.

Renard’s gaze lingered on Ruelle, his curiosity unhidden. He couldn’t help but wonder why his second cousin Lucian Slater hadn’t raised hell over a human seated so close to the head of the table. Was she here for entertainment... or did Dane simply bring her here because she was pleasing to look at?

"Insulting my guest has repercussions," Dane stated, as the smile on his lips thinned. "Ruelle isn’t a fawn to be mocked. She’s far more capable than you assume."

Wait, Mr. S! Don’t defend me like that! Ruelle screamed in her mind while looking at him. Because this only would spur the vampire on further!

"You must be bluffing, Dane. She looks quite fragile," huffed an envious vampiress, unhappy with the attention Ruelle was gaining.

"Then we must surely see how capable she is, depending on how long she will last in the woods," Renard echoed. "What do you say, Ruelle? Will you help in keeping the family’s head high with pride as it is now? Or put it to shame by forfeiting?"

All eyes fell on Ruelle, and her stomach turned at the undivided attention she received. The vampire’s words hung in the air, waiting for her response. She could feel her heartbeat in her throat now.

If she refused, would it cast shame upon the Slaters? Would they think Dane’s words hollow as he had spoken for her? Her chest tightened. Under the table, her toes curled inside the new shoes she had received thanks to his ride to the cobbler’s shop, as if gripping the weight of the favour she now owed.

Her eyes met Lucian’s for an instant, enough to catch the faint furrow between his brows and his lips set in a thin line. Then Dane’s voice broke through the silence, firm yet protective.

"You don’t have to do it, Ruelle." He then turned to Renard, his tone cool. "She came here to celebrate, not to—"

"I will take part in it," Ruelle interrupted, her words slipping out before reason could stop them. "If the Slater name stands at stake I will not refuse."

"You heard her! She wants to be part of it," Renard declared, clapping his hands. "That’s the spirit."

Ruelle’s fingers tightened around her skirt. Inside, her thoughts whispered what her lips could not. God help me, what have I just done?