Chapter 116: Under His Roof

“It is my fault.”

Ruelle’s chest tightened. Lucian offered Edward a polite bow, his demeanour composed as ever, while the prince stared at the pureblooded vampire for a single beat before rage flooded his face.

Edward strode forward, fists clenched. He looked one second away from throwing a punch, while Ruelle’s heart leapt to her throat.

“If Ruelle had not attended the celebration at the Slater Mansion,” Lucian continued, “she wouldn’t have crossed paths with Minister Maverick Griswold.”

Ruelle’s eyes snapped back at Lucian, his expression nonchalant compared to the furious prince. He had admitted his involvement, yet gently turned the blame toward the minister.

“Maverick Griswold?” Edward lowered his raised hand slightly, frowning. “Who is that?”

Hermes answered at once, “Minister Griswold is a first-rank minister of the Royal Courthouse, Your Highness. His position is overseeing civil enforcement and human registry matters.”

Edward’s jaw tightened. His gaze snapped back to Lucian. “Then why did you make it sound like you were the one who did it?”

Because he did, Ruelle thought, her heart beginning to race.

Lucian didn’t flinch. He responded,

“She is under my roof. That makes her my responsibility. She returns to my side at the end of the day,” he paused coolly, before adding, “My room. And the details of what I heard would not please you. He came looking for her again this morning.”

Edward continued to stare at Lucian, as if he wanted to get into a brawl but at the same time worried about his interest. His gaze shifted to Ruelle and the fury in his eyes made her fingers curl at her sides. The prince demanded, “Is that true?”

She nodded. “He came to my class earlier—”

“How dare he,” Edward hissed. His hands trembled with anger. He ordered, “Hermes, I want his position stripped.”

The attendant wore a weary look as he answered, “That is not within your direct authority, Your Highness. It requires the King’s seal…”

Edward waved him off, snapping, “My authority is not nonexistent. There is nothing I cannot do.” He then turned to Ruelle and added, “Nothing.”

“You don’t need to go that far, Your Highness,” Ruelle said quietly.

“Why not? He has sullied your reputation.”

“I believe,” Lucian interrupted smoothly, “she is not worried about what he did. She is worried about what he will do if this matter is handled poorly.”

For a moment the prince simply stared at Lucian, jaw tight. He then asked coldly, “Is that what she is saying or what you are suggesting, Slater?”

Lucian met Edward’s gaze, responding to him in the same tone that barely rose or dropped, “I’m suggesting she should not suffer for someone else’s mistake.”

Edward’s nostrils flared and he ordered, “Hermes. My carriage. Now,” and he strode down the corridor without another word.

Ruelle stood frozen as everything spiralled too fast before her. She turned to Lucian, who watched Edward disappear around the corner. When he was about to step back inside the dining room, she whispered,

“You sent him after the minister… What if Edward learns the truth?”

Lucian looked utterly unruffled and he answered,

“The prince will not return until he has made a spectacle of protecting you. Removing a nuisance while hoping you’ll look at him like a hero.”

Ruelle, on the other hand, was worried about what if things went wrong. She asked, “How did you know…?”

“You aren’t very good at hiding your emotions,” Lucian pointed out, watching her doe-like eyes look up to meet his eyes. There was something sweet in there that drew unnecessary bees to the flower. “You were hiding from him in the Slater Mansion’s garden.”

Ruelle’s eyes widened as she remembered it. She murmured, “I didn’t expect you to see it…”

“Hm,” Lucian made a low sound of acknowledgement before saying, “Get back in and eat.”

“Won’t you be eating?” Ruelle asked him politely.

“Later. I have something to do,” Lucian answered. Ruelle gave a nod before she disappeared inside the dining room.

He made his way down the corridor and stairs. When he reached the area where the carriages were parked, his coachman, who was sitting idly, stood up at the sight of him.

“Mr. Slater,” the coachman, Claude, offered a bow.

“Find out who bought siren bone powder in the last sixty days,” Lucian ordered. Having meddled with several potions since he was young, he was aware of the ingredients used and their symptoms. And last night, someone had drugged him. There were only a handful of ingredients that were capable of supressing memory.

“Didn’t all the ingredients belonging to the merfolk turn extinct, Sire?” Claude enquired.

“All but the bone,” Lucian replied, before adding, “Look for the merchants in the East Harbour. They usually deal with things that are hard to find.” He then pulled out a rolled parchment from his coat before extending it, which the coachman took swiftly. “Hand this to the register after a week to distribute it. The papers are attached along with the evidence.”

“Of course, Sire,” the coachman obliged with a bow.

The prince would not return to Sexton until the deed was completed and the procedure of removing a minister from the courthouse was a long one, something Lucian was quite familiar with. As for Griswold, he had been warned but the man had reached too far.

Lucian wasn’t someone who enjoyed meddling in other people’s affairs. He preferred distance. But when someone crossed a line, he ruined them. Slowly and carefully, until misery pressed in from all sides and the person was nowhere left to breathe.

Returning to the dining room, Lucian took a seat at the table when Dane came to join them.

“A little birdy told me you had been breaking test tubes and beakers before you stormed out without a word,” Dane chimed, picking up a fork and putting the meat into his mouth.

“I guess it is time to shoot the bird,” Lucian remarked lightly, for Sawyer’s eyes widened.

“Hey, hey! Don’t shoot the messenger! I was just worried,” Sawyer offered a solemn look.

Dane stared at Lucian and then commented, “He looks fine. Maybe more than fine. Is it perhaps last night’s dance?” He wiggled his eyebrows. But the younger Slater didn’t bother to answer it.

“The word isn’t ’messenger’, but ’gossiper’,” Angelina corrected her brother, who sat near them.

On the other side of the room, Ruelle sat with her friends, her movements careful, as though the way she reached for her glass had suddenly mattered.

She didn’t know when she looked up. Only that her eyes drifted toward the Elite table on their own and she caught Lucian talking to Dane.

He wore his usual expression, as though he hadn’t just stopped her from leaving or said those things in that quiet voice. When Dane noticed her looking his way, he offered her a smile. She returned it automatically before dropping her gaze at once, her ears turning pink.

“The one who asked me to dance last night was the marquis’s cousin’s nephew,” Hailey explained after she swallowed her food. “I suggested that I secure a position in his household as a maid. But somehow he seemed offended. As if I was asking him to be my maid.”

“Perhaps he wanted to turn you into something more,” Ruelle replied, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“Pssh. I would definitely like to dream on that,” Hailey replied. “But not something a Groundling gets to have. Right, Kevin?”

Kevin gave a small hum of agreement, still focused on his food.

“Did you get to speak to anyone about the guard position?” Ruelle asked, as he had mentioned about it in the past.

“Unfortunately, no. The vampires seemed more interested in talking to women to give any of us time,” Kevin sighed softly. He hesitated before adding, “Hailey isn’t wrong. Elites don’t raise Groundlings positions. They can’t make humans from Sexton their legitimate wives. Just like how the prince has been pinning for you to be his mistress. The closest place a lower human gets is being kept and that comes with no real standing. You should be careful.”

A mistress, Ruelle thought, her gaze drifting back to Lucian, who was still conversing with those around him, composed and untouched by the thoughts now circling her mind.

“But I must say, Prince Edward sure fancies you to skip classes and go after the minister,” Hailey commented thoughtfully. “That’s manly of him. Taking responsibility,” she nodded.

“After what he did, it was the least for him to do,” came Kevin’s snippy voice.

“It feels like we are sitting with a scissor today,” Hailey muttered under her breath, while Kevin sent her a small stare before sighing again.

“I am having a headache. I will be returning to my room,” Kevin informed them, before heading out of the dining room.

Ruelle frowned, noticing how Kevin appeared down today.

“By the way, Ruelle,” Hailey whispered, leaning closer with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Now that we’re alone… was it good?”

“What was good?” Ruelle asked absently, still lost in her thoughts.

Hailey’s gaze lowered meaningfully toward Ruelle’s neck.

At the same time, the other humans at the table had gone unusually quiet. A few of them pretending as if they weren’t listening. Ruelle forced her expression into something neutral and answered, “It was—unexpected…”

After meal, when they were walking down the corridor, Ruelle and Hailey caught two of their peers, who were humans, talking.

“I am telling you, that’s what my neighbour, who was once a student here, told me. That it should have started by now and it’s going to happen.”

“That can’t be right. I thought it was only for the Elites,” the other human frowned.

“What is going to happen?” Ruelle asked, slightly curious.

“We were talking about the physical classes of Seduction Techniques. Some are going to be group lessons and some are private with the instructors,” replied the one who had spoken first. “A woman I know said that the instructors call it practical refinement.”

“Refinement of what?” Hailey questioned.

“To be good—at the physical—bodily things. We are being prepared, don’t you see?”

Both Ruelle and Hailey turned pale at those words.

“If it was before, I would have thought it was somewhere a good opportunity,” their classmate cleared her throat. “But it would be strange now knowing Mr. Henley a married man.”

“Elites and Halflings don’t care about such things,” another one clicked her tongue. “But the poor wife. Apparently he doesn’t have enough sum to pay for her freedom.”

“It is going to be weird for you too, right, Ruelle?” asked the classmate, before they walked away from there, leaving Hailey and Ruelle to think about it.

Ruelle wondered if she could skip the seduction class by saying she was sick. Ezekiel’s words still echoed in her mind.

’You don’t have to shut me out just because others misunderstand us.’

It was as if he didn’t care if people thought something was going on between them. As if… he was okay with it, and it sent a sliver of worry up her spine.

When the day moved to night, it was well past nine when Hailey and she stopped studying. She had stayed later than usual. Later than necessary, as if stalling time from returning to the room.

When Ruelle finally arrived at her room’s door, she opened it. She caught Lucian sitting on the couch with his legs crossed and a book in his hand.

“I was beginning to think you’d decided to sleep in the class,” he remarked, looking up from his book.

She replied, “Ah—no. I just lost track of time,” and a faint, awkward laugh slipped from her.

Ruelle closed the door with a soft click and set her things on the desk. Grabbing a change of clothes, she slipped behind the divider and changed. When she stepped out from behind the divider, Lucian was still seated on the couch as he continued to read.

Ruelle paused. She hovered near the edge of the space before deciding to wait until he was done reading. When she took a step towards the chair, she heard him say, “Take the bed.”

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