Chapter 120: Cost of a Ribbon

Lucian sat before the glass bowl, his gaze fixed on the dark soil within. A faint damp scent rose from it, rich and earthen, as though the ground itself breathed. The surface lay undisturbed just as he had left it a week ago.

“I wondered if that scent of soil clinging to you came from your new companion in the stables,” his mother remarked from behind him. He turned at the sound of her voice and noticed her one elegant brow arched in quiet inquiry. “I didn’t know you were into gardening.”

“I am not,” Lucian replied.

“No matter,” his mother said, waving her hand. “I have books, if ever you wish to learn about such things.”

“I have read them,” Lucian answered. Lady Irina tilted her head, accepting his words without surprise and took the seat beside him, her dress faintly rustling as she settled. “Was there something you wanted, Mother?” he asked at last.

“Why?” she asked lightly. “May I not visit my own son simply to see him?”

Lucian’s eyebrows drew together, the faintest crease forming between them. “I never said that.”

Lady Irina smiled, though something thoughtful lingered behind it. She remarked,

“I sometimes think that if I close my eyes, time will steal you from me as it did with Dane. Children vanish into adulthood so quickly and quietly. One day they reach for your hand and the next they walk ahead of you,” she sighed softly.

Lucian reached for her hand. Holding it, he said, “You have nothing to worry about.”

Lady Irina squeezed his hand. She said, “I sent a letter to my brother about the elder minister’s decision. The news might take him by surprise.”

“You seldom see one another,” Lucian stated. After a brief pause, he asked with quiet bluntness, “Is it because you are half-siblings?”

The vampiress drew a slow breath, her gaze moving toward the window where the snow had begun to soften at the edges, slipping into thin rivulets along the glass.

“Not entirely. When we were children, we quarrelled and reconciled in the same afternoon,” she said before adding, “Your uncle took great offence at my marriage to your father, as he had once lost a sword fight to him. Pride is a stubborn thing. But they are more civil now.” An amused smile appeared on her lips.

Lady Irina paused in thought. She then mentioned, “Perhaps we ought to host a small gathering. It has been far too long since we have all sat in the same room.” After a brief pause, she changed the subject.

“Dane said he would return soon, but I suspect his friends have detained him. Or he detained himself. I promised Ruelle to find her ribbons before her next visit.”

“I don’t think she would remember it,” Lucian said, his head slightly tilting.

Lady Irina hummed in agreement. “She likely would not. The child does not yet know what to want, and that makes choosing for her… delicate. Ribbons are simple. They will do for now.”

Lucian studied his mother a moment longer before asking, “Do you want me to go with you?”

“You will?” Lady Irina asked, a note of surprise lifting her voice. Though the smile that followed betrayed her quiet satisfaction. “It is a fine day for stepping outside.”

“Very well.”

Soon the carriage rolled out of the Slaters’ Mansion and after what seemed more than half an hour, it finally came to a gentle halt at the edge of a town and the horses’ breath rose in pale clouds.

The coachman opened the door at once and Lady Irina stepped down first, her gloved hand resting lightly on the door frame as her boots met the damp cobblestones.

Lucian followed her.

The faint scent of thawing earth rising around them with mud, melted ice and the distant promise of spring. People walked up and down the streets carefully to avoid the shallow puddles that had begun to form. Smoke curled from chimneys above the buildings.

“Wait for us, Claude. We will be back from the ribbon shopping,” Lady Irina informed, her tone warm.

“Yes, milady,” the coachman offered a bow.

“That is all you need to buy?” Lucian asked and saw his mother nod.

“Mhm,” Lady Irina smiled as they walked down the street. “Is there anything you would like to buy?”

“I have everything I need,” came the prompt response from Lucian.

They finally stopped before a narrow shop tucked between a tailor’s and a confectioner’s shops. Stepping inside the shop, they noticed careful rows of satin, silk, and velvet fabrics in different colours.

“Oh, these look wonderful. Perhaps I should have brought her here,” Lady Irina murmured, her gaze drifting over the display.

“Lady Slater. It is an honour,” the shopwoman, who was a human, lowered her head into a deep bow. She straightened and gestured toward a small seating area. “Please, do sit. What may I bring you to drink?”

“Thank you, but nothing today,” Lady Irina replied with a gentle wave. “I would like to see ribbons suitable for young girls.”

The shopkeeper blinked, then lowered her gaze to the vampiress’s stomach. “My apologies. I did not know you were expecting a child…”

A soft laugh escaped the vampiress’ lips, which was light and unoffended. She replied warmly,

“As much as my husband would welcome such news, no.” Then her hand came to rest upon Lucian’s shoulder, giving a small, affectionate squeeze. “But I am expecting one to come home. She is about this tall,” the vampiress continued, lifting her hand to indicate the height. “A very sweet child with brown eyes. She has exactly your hair colour. So something to match with it.”

“A human?” the shopkeeper asked with a slight hint of surprise.

“Yes,” Lady Irina turned amused. She then asked, “You can find a suitable ribbon, can’t you?”

“Of course, milady. I will bring the best ones,” the woman obliged. She walked by the racks, while her eyes met a man in a hat, who was standing two stores away from hers. She pulled out the lean boxes before bringing them to the lady and started displaying the ribbons one after another.

Lady Irina’s hand moved from ribbon to ribbon with patient care, letting the silks slip through her fingers as though testing their quality.

And while the pureblooded vampires were busy, the shopwoman moved to the counter and quickly wrote something over a small ledger. Lucian’s gaze lingered towards the pen scratching against the parchment before his mother called him.

“Lucian,” Lady Irina lifted a length of pale blue ribbon. “What do you think of this one? We picked a dress in this colour too.”

He glanced at it, then at her. “Dane would have been more helpful.”

A soft laugh escaped her before a weariness passed her eyes. She murmured, “Sometimes he makes me worry.”

The bell above the door chimed and Lucian turned. He caught sight of a man removing his hat. The man bowed to them before speaking to the shopwoman.

“I require change for silver,” producing a coin between gloved fingers.

“Of course,” the shopwoman replied at once.

The shopwoman took the coin and gathered the change. Her hand slipped briefly beneath the counter. When she returned to look at the man, the coins rested neatly in her palm and something thinner lay folded among them without the pureblooded vampires’ notice. She placed the change into the man’s hand and the man closed his hand, bowing once more and departed.

Lady Irina held up another ribbon which was soft cream threaded with gold.

“I think we will buy these,” said the vampiress. The shopwoman offered,

“There are some more of them if you would like to see, milady. Just give me a moment. I will be back.”

When the next set of ribbons was laid before the Slaters, the vampiress’s eyes lit up. She stated, “They look exquisite. We shall take these as well.”

“I am glad that you have liked them. The pureblooded families rarely step into such a small shop, especially one owned by a human,” the shopwoman replied. “It has put most of us out of business.”

“Hopefully things will change for the better. I will let people know about your lovely shop,” Lady Irina pulled out coins and handed them to the shopwoman.

Outside, carriage wheels rolled slowly over wet cobblestones. For a moment, everything felt normal. Then a scream tore through the street outside.

The shopwoman’s hands froze, while Lucian and Lady Irina turned behind, their eyes looking beyond the glass door. The vampiress placed her hand in front of Lucian and instructed,

“Stay here.” The warmth that had filled her expression moments ago was gone, replaced by something colder and precise. She turned to look at the shopwoman and stated, “You should go hide.”

Lucian’s lips pressed against each other as he watched his mother step outside, while her hand pulled out a dagger that was concealed in her dress. Soon, the scent of blood slipped into the shop before the door closed.

Lady Irina’s eyes sharpened as she noticed vampires and humans who had begun to fight against each other on the streets. Some were injured. Others lay motionless on the ground with blood being splattered.

“DIE! DIE! We are going to take the land that rightfully belongs to us! These are ours! Not yours!” A human screamed as he drove a stake into a vampire’s chest and face. Screams of pain and rage filled the town, which began to spread like fire through straw.

The next moment, one of the humans came at Lady Irina from her side, trying to catch her off guard, but before that, she deflected the stake and twisted the human’s arm before pressing him against the wall.

“Why are you attacking the vampires?” the vampiress demanded.

“Your kind attacked us first! All you bloodsuckers deserve to die,” the human grunted in pain. “Acting all high and mighty, trying to rule us as if we are your slaves!”

Noticing how most of the humans had stakes in their hands, Lady Irina let go of the human. But when the human turned, she swiftly struck the human’s head and the person dropped unconscious.

Though vampires had more strength compared to the humans, they seemed unprepared, while the humans used the stakes and arrows, stabbing one after another. Lady Irina caught a human’s hand midair, who was going to stab her neck. She ran her dagger into his arm, which had the man shout in pain.

“ARGGGHH!!”

“Die, bastard!” came a vampire’s shout somewhere in the street, who tore a human’s hand from his body.

Both sides attacked each other without a second thought of what or who they were. Each kind was trying to do damage, while Lady Irina tried to keep the humans at bay.

Inside the shop, behind the young Slater, the shopwoman stared at him with an expression that lacked panic and looked like someone who was waiting for this to happen. Her hand inched towards the knitting needles resting on the table, ready to drive it into the boy’s throat.

But before her fingers could close around them, the needles vanished from the table, snatched away in a blur. Her gaze snapped to the boy.

Lucian, unable to stand still and wait while his mother was outside, quickly stepped out of the shop.

A human noticed Lucian didn’t care he was a young boy and charged at the sight of his red eyes alone. The pureblooded vampire did not allow the human to take advantage. He pivoted, driving his heel into the man’s leg sharply. The human collapsed to his knees with a strangled groan, while the stake slipped from his grasp.

But when the human lunged for it, Lucian was faster. With a single motion, he drove the needles through the back of the man’s hand. A scream erupted from the human’s throat.

When Lucian turned, he found his mother already engaged in a fight with a halfling. He pulled out the long knitting needles out of the human’s hand and rushed to his mother’s side.

Lady Irina’s fist struck with brutal force, sending the halfling hurling into the wall and stone cracked under the impact. When she turned, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of her son.

“I thought I told you to stay inside.”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Lucian answered with his eyebrows furrowed.

A small smile touched her lips, which was fleeting, before she instructed, “Go find Claude. Tell him to inform your father. Go!”

When Lucian turned, Lady Irina’s gaze followed him briefly.

[Music Recommendation: The Chairman’s Waltz – John Williams]

Lucian made his way through the scattering crowd. Then something glinted—an axe, raised in a human’s hands. The human threw the axe, which spun through the air in a slow arc before it struck the juncture between Lady Irina’s neck and shoulder with a sickening sound.

“MOTHER!” The word tore from Lucian’s lips.

His body went cold and his feet stopped before he began to make his way toward her when another human stepped forward with a stake gripped in both hands.

Lucian tried to reach his mother but he was too far.

The stake drove into his mother’s chest with a dull, brutal sound. When the human pulled the weapon free, it left a dark, gaping wound where her heart had been.

Lady Irina’s eyes slowly found Lucian’s, her hand lifting as though reaching for him across a distance that had never existed before.

Lucian did not stop. He ran with the world blurring at the edges and his lungs burning—but her eyes were already closing and she collapsed on the ground. Blood pooled around her body, seeping into the cracks of the cobblestones.

He did not remember crossing the distance. One moment the world was filled with noise and motion, and the next he was on his knees beside his mother. The cobblestones were slick beneath him from her blood. His hand moved as he reached for her.

“Mother…” The word came out too small. As though it belonged to a child who still believed that calling would be enough.

Lady Irina lay where she had fallen, her hair loosened from its careful arrangement, her strands clinging to her cheek. Her eyes, once so sharp and knowing, stared past him at something that was no longer there.

Lucian’s fingers trembled as he brushed the hair away from her face before taking her still hand. The warmth was already leaving.

His head lowered to her body as his mother’s blood continued to gather beneath his knees and soak into the fabric of his trousers, while he clutched her hand tighter as if refusal alone could bring her back.

“Please come back…” his voice cracked. “Please.”

He waited for her fingers to tighten just like they had earlier that day around his but they did not.

The street still roared around him, but the sound felt distant now. In that moment, something inside him went very still and his deep red eyes seemed to darken, the light within them withdrawing.

From behind, quick footsteps ran through the streets, heading to where Lucian sat on the ground.

When Dane arrived at the scene, the colour in his face drained as his eyes fell on his lifeless mother.

“No…” Dane staggered back in denial. “This is a mistake—She said she would—she wanted me to—” He dropped to his knees in shock. Regret and guilt filled his mind. He had told her that he would return and she had laughed with a shake of her head as if she knew he would be late.

When his gaze snapped to Lucian, demanding denial that this wasn’t true, he noticed his brother lift his head and turn to look at him.

“I couldn’t protect her, Dane,” Lucian uttered.

Dane’s eyes widened, not from the words but from his brother’s eyes that had turned black now, leaving something hollow behind.

The sound of boots against the ground was heard as the guards tried to break free the people who had been attacking and dragged them to the dungeon.

“Make way! Make way!” a voice rang out. The town’s magistrate pushed through the thinning crowd, his cloak dark with splashes of blood that belonged to others. His eyes fell upon Lady Irina’s body and his composure faltered.

“What has happened…” he breathed in horror. “S–send for a carriage—”

Dane’s attention snapped from their mother to Lucian.

For a heartbeat, he froze. Before the magistrate could notice, his hand quickly came to cover Lucian’s empty eyes as he pulled his brother against him, turning his brother’s face into his shoulder.

Lucian did not resist. He sat unnaturally still in his brother’s hold, his breath shallow and his hands stained with their mother’s blood.

“Stay back,” Dane ordered and the magistrate didn’t take a step closer.

“Mother will ride with us,” Lucian murmured and Dane pursed his lips.

It was obvious that his brother’s heart had begun to corrupt and he wasn’t sure if riding with her was safe. Because the corruption would only get worse in time.

“Fetch our carriage,” Dane ordered and the magistrate, unsurely, bowed before he snapped his fingers at his men.

The violence did not stay contained. It poured outward, following roads and rumours.

Not far from the town where chaos had erupted, smoke curled above the rooftops in another nearby town. Houses and shopfronts burned, their flames devouring wood and the air carried the stench of char and the metallic tang of blood.

A low, feral growl echoed somewhere in the distance.

Inside the Belmont residence, Ruelle had only just returned from the church with the elderly maid when she wandered into the hallway and found an unknown man standing there, his clothes smeared with blood. He held a wooden log which was dark in his hand.

He took a step toward her. “Belmonts. Always bending their necks for vampire favour,” he muttered, voice rough with hatred.

“What?” came Ruelle’s small voice as she stepped back and then another step. Did he come to meet her parents? “Papa and mama aren’t here…”

The man chuckled, saying, “I am here for you.”

He lifted the length of wood in his hand and brought it down.

Ruelle moved from instinct. And though the blow didn’t kill her, it brought a burst of white that filled her vision and she collapsed on the floor, while something warm trickled down her temple.

Before the man could raise the log again, the elderly maid seized the nearest vase and brought it down against his head. The porcelain shattered, but he did not fall. He only staggered, turning toward her with a look of irritation rather than pain.

“You shouldn’t be fighting at your age,” he commented, and flashed a knife.

The next second he lunged at her and plunged the knife into her stomach. A choked cry left her lips.

“I—I won’t let you hurt her!” the maid cried in desperation.

When the man pulled it out, the maid tried to grab it such that both of them struggled to take the knife for themselves while walking on the shards of porcelain. The maid’s hands clung to the knife with desperate strength. The blade was dragged upward between them, neither of them fully in control of it.

Then, with a ragged cry, the maid drove the pointed knife into the man’s eye.

He shrieked, stumbling back and clawing at his face. Blind and thrashing, he slipped back and fell hard. His skull struck the floor with a crack and he didn’t get up.

The maid swayed where she stood before her knees gave way, with blood continuing to ooze out of her stomach. She watched the little girl’s chest rise and fall, and the maid finally closed her eyes.

“AHH!!! RUN!” screams erupted from outside the house and in the streets. “THE TOWNS ARE UNDER ATTACK! Save yourself!”

Little Ruelle, who had fallen unconscious, slowly began to wake up with her eyes prying open and her face scrunched in pain as she sat up. The smoke had begun to enter the house through the windows. She looked at the red liquid that was smeared on the walls and the ground, her eyes slowly moving to the two people who didn’t move.

At the same time, Mr. Belmont entered the house with his face marred with ash, anger and fear. He looked around, asking, “Did she return?! Go check the floor above!”

Mrs. Belmont, who had entered a second sooner, noticed Ruelle sitting on the floor with bodies near her. She called, “I found her! She’s here!”

Mr. Belmont looked at the dead people and he pulled Ruelle by her arm, his grip so tight that it would leave a mark. He demanded, “What did you do?! Did you bring misfortune here again? What did you do to release death?!”

Ruelle looked confused and her voice trembled, “I—I didn’t—”

“It’s the damn vampires, Harold,” Mrs. Belmont spoke in frustration. “To think the ministers even thought we could have peace. The vampires are after our bloods! We should leave before it is too late.”

“This is our house!” Mr. Belmont pointed out the obvious. He had a name and dwelling. He—

“RUN BEFORE IT’S TOO LA—” The voice was silenced abruptly outside, swallowed by the merciless fangs of vampires.

“CURSED CREATURES! Tch! They will pay for this!” Mr. Belmont spoke in frustration. “Vampires should all die! They deserve it.”

Ruelle, who had been struck earlier, once again fell unconscious on the floor. Mr. Belmont clicked his tongue in distaste before dragging Ruelle out of there as they hurried towards their parked carriage. They put the unconscious one first, followed by Caroline, who peeked outside the window. Mrs. Belmont grabbed whatever she felt was necessary from the house before they would be ambushed.

When the trunks were finally tied behind the carriage and they were ready to leave, an officer sent to restore order caught sight of them.

“Belmont!” he called, striding closer. “When will you be returning? Things are almost under control.”

“Control?” Mr. Belmont snapped, gesturing to the blood stains on his clothes. “I nearly got bitten by one of those devils. Everyone’s already fled, and I have no desire to die here. Keep your control to yourself.”

“Vampires should all die. They deserve it,” Caroline repeated her father’s earlier words. “Papa, let us go…”

“We should leave now,” Mrs. Belmont insisted with worry marring her face.

Mr. Belmont climbed in and slammed the carriage door. The horses jerked forward, hooves striking the road hard as the carriage sped away, leaving the officer standing in the smoke, frowning after them.

When the situation in the towns and other nearby villages had come under control, a black carriage rolled through the smoke-stained streets and came to a halt before the Belmont residence.

Lucian and Dane stepped down without a word, with another coachman, as the one they usually rode with was injured.

Dane had brought his brother here out of a fragile, desperate hope. That the one human thread still tying Lucian to the world might reverse his corruption. When they entered the house, the air smelt the same as outside.

Lucian moved first, his footsteps quickening as they moved from room to room. But there was no sight of Belmonts.

“Oh, Master Dane,” the officer greeted, entering the house, hurrying forward, his tone brisk and unaware of the Slaters’ loss.

“Mr. Killian,” Dane greeted the man who worked for his father in the courthouse. “Are the Belmonts safe?” he asked.

The officer nodded and replied, “Safe enough. They have left this town.”

“Left?” Dane’s brows drew together.

“Harold Belmont was eager to leave. He despised vampires,” the officer replied. “Said he would not risk his family further.”

Lucian had stopped moving when his eyes fell on a narrow table near the window. On it sat a small clay pot along with the plant he had given Ruelle. He stared at it.

“And the girl?” Dane asked quietly.

The officer shrugged. “The Belmont child? She seemed frightened. Though I must say, she ah…” He hesitated, as if uncertain whether he should say it or not. “She said all vampires should die. That they deserve it.”

Dane’s eyebrows furrowed further. He looked at his brother, whose gaze remained on the window. He asked, “Are you sure you heard it right?”

“I did, Master Dane. I didn’t expect such a small child to have such clear hatred,” the officer responded.

At that same moment, the last fragile thread of hope within Lucian gave way.

Dane sensed it before he saw it. The feeling was similar to the harshest winter frost spreading across the ground.

Something darker settled around Lucian’s demeanour. Fine, root-like veins began to form at the corners of his eyes, creeping outward in faint, branching lines, as though something beneath his skin had begun to grow.

“Dane.”

Lucian’s voice was no longer that of a boy but it was cold and void of any emotion. He turned towards the door and remarked, “We should return home. Don’t waste yourself here. Mother must be buried,” and he stepped out of the house.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep