Chapter 152: Weight Of Absence

Ruelle did not look away and neither did Hermes as the attendant took hold of the folded parchment. Beyond the walls of the castle, the weather had changed, with wind howling through the night, lifting loose snow into spirals.

“Do you know that this is considered the finest weather for hunting, Ruelle? It has long been a tradition in our family to hunt in such storms,” Edward remarked as he looked outside the window. He turned back to look at them with a bright smile. “Do you want to try it?”

“I am going to be buried…” Hailey murmured as her faced turned pale while she stared at the parchment in Hermes’ hand.

Ruelle held Hailey’s hand without drawing anyone’s attention. She replied politely,

“I do not think it would be wise for us. With the storm as it is, the vision would be poor and might end up shooting each other. Not to mention we are humans.”

“I have shot Hermes… and others in my own family. Do not trouble yourself, Ruelle. It will be just fine,” Edward laughed as though what happened in the past were trivial.

“Maybe we can go early tomorrow, if the weather improve,” Ruelle replied, offering him a polite smile.

“Then it is settled!” Edward declared, clearly pleased. He would make a coat out of the animal they would hunt!

The prince led the two young women outside the library. When Ruelle turned, she caught sight of Hermes stepping out of there and disappearing into another corridor.

She looked out through the passing windows. Darkness had settled across the grounds, leaving only the lanterns along the poles to burn faintly. The sound of the storm seemed to press faintly against the glass.

“Let me show you the tiger’s and bear’s hides. This way you will know what you want to hunt for tomorrow,” Edward spoke next to Ruelle. “I hunted the tiger when I was six years old.”

Ruelle’s gaze flickered toward Hailey before settling on Edward, a silent cue given without a word. Hailey was quick to catch the look even though her face was marred in anxiousness with what had occurred back in the library. She cleared her throat and spoke,

“That is very impressive, Your Highness. Not everyone could manage such a thing.”

Edward huffed slightly, his chest moving forward. He replied, “That is hardly new to me.”

“Unfortunately, I have never gone hunting before nor do I know how to use a crossbow, Your Highness,” Hailey admitted with a dramatic sigh. She asked him, “If you would not mind, perhaps you could guide me in tomorrow’s hunt?”

When Ruelle noticed Edward taking his time, she felt a flicker of hope until he said bluntly, “Ha, then it is better you remain behind. This is not a hunt one attempts to learn. Incompetent,” he muttered.

Hailey’s brow twitched and her lips pressed together as though holding something back.

“Then maybe she and I should remain behind. We could make use of the stables while you and the others ride out,” Ruelle proposed gently.

Edward’s expression fell at once. “Remain behind?”

“Would it not be rather rude to leave a friend behind all alone?” Ruelle asked, noticing his brows furrow.

“If she is to learn, it may as well be from the best . From me. We shall do it during the hunt,” Edward nodded, a smile returning as though he had fixed the little hiccup. He then turned to Hailey and said lowly, “Be ready,” and it sounded nothing less than a warning.

Far from them, on another floor of the castle, Hermes quickened his pace despite the pain that struck through his feet with each step. The attendant soon arrived at the king’s chamber and noticed King Septimus had only finished changing his clothes.

“Your Majesty,” Hermes bowed as he raised the folded note. “This was taken from Miss Ruelle.”

“It seems you have remembered your duties,” the king hummed softly as he extended his hand.

The attendant walked forward and placed the parchment into the king’s hand. He saw the king unfold it, his gaze lingering for no longer than a second before one corner of his lips curled. His eyes rose from the page as his hand lowered.

Hermes blinked when his eyes fell upon the blank parchment. Turning nervous, he explained,

“I am certain there was writing upon it, Your Majesty.”

“Yet it presents itself as blank,” King Septimus remarked as the look in his eyes turned serious but the faint smile remained. “It seems Edward has not chosen poorly after all. Keep a closer watch on her and those she keeps near.”

Hermes bowed at once, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he drew in a quiet breath in the hope that his other toes wouldn’t be severed. Soon, the king walked past him before he stepped out of the room.

In the castle’s dining room, the walls and the ceiling were covered in dark red wood, while three circular chandeliers hung above the long table, casting a steady glow. Kevin had already joined them and stood listening as Edward spoke.

Noticing them busy and the king yet to arrive with no servants in the room, Ruelle made her way toward the fireplace, the flames burning bright and she lowered herself before it. Hailey followed quickly, sitting on her heels with her palms outstretched.

“How are you so calm, Ruelle?” Hailey whispered, her voice barely steady. “Shouldn’t we, you know, run…?”

“In this blizzard?” Ruelle asked quietly before pulling out the folded parchment from her pocket. She whispered back, “The other one was a blank,” before throwing it into the fire.

“I do not even know how that happened,” Hailey whispered in a rush. She had been too stressed writing to notice anything. “But… that was well done.”

Ruelle picked up a log and placed it above the parchment to hide it completely.

“Are you feeling better now?” Hailey asked with a slight frown.

Ruelle nodded. Sharing it had lightened her chest and made her less overwhelmed than before. But she didn’t know for how long that would remain.

“What are you doing there?” Edward called, approaching them. “You need not concern yourself with the logs. There are servants for it.”

Ruelle and Hailey rose to their feet as he approached. Ruelle answered, “We were feeling a little cold and thought to warm our hands,” before adding,

“Is it permissible for us to sit at the same table as the royal family?”

“Yes, you are my friends from Sexton. There is no need to trouble yourselves over such things,” Edward said with a careless wave.

“We are only commoners… we would not dare,” Ruelle said with a slight smile. The truth was she was dreading sitting under the same space as the king.

“You seem to have difficulty listening, do you not?” came a voice from the doorway. It was King Septimus. Everyone’s back straightened at once. The underlying meaning of his word didn’t escape her. His gaze moved across the room before settling on her.

“The royal family does not favour people who can’t follow our words. But we do like to help them remember if they can’t follow. Is that not so, Hermes?”

A shiver ran down Hermes’s spine and he quickly answered, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

King Septimus then moved to his seat before he sat down. “Sit,” he ordered.

Edward was the first to do so by taking the place to the king’s right. He turned and called her, “Ruelle, come sit here,” pulling the chair for her.

Ruelle noticed the king noticed this. Ruelle took the seat beside him, and soon Hailey and Kevin came to sit on the same side of the table.

As the servants began to place the dishes and serve them, it didn’t take long for Ruelle’s thoughts to drift towards Claude. She wondered if the coachman had managed to return to Sexton safely.

Back at Sexton, the Slaters’ carriage came to a halt and the coachman stepped down, making his way towards the building when he noticed the young master.

Lucian stood with his back against the wall, half-shadowed. The dim glow of the cigar lit the sharp line of his face for a brief moment before fading again.

Claude stepped forward and offered a bow, informing, “Miss Ruelle has sent word that she and her friends will remain at King Septimus’s castle as Prince Edward is hosting a dinner for them. I will pick her up at the third hour past noon tomorrow.”

Lucian let the smoke leave his lips in a slow breath. He remarked, “Quite a detour from the fair.”

When his gaze lowered on the band at Claude’s wrist, which wasn’t there until this morning, the coachman explained,

“She gave it as a bribe… She encountered her father’s debt collectors but was unharmed. The prince, however, was injured.” A brief hesitation followed before he added, “It seemed she did not wish for you to know of the trouble at the fair.”

Lucian’s eyes returned to his coachman, his expression unreadable as he exhaled, “She’s right to be cautious.”

“Miss Ruelle also visited her old house… though she had no recollection of it,” Claude continued to report. When Lucian didn’t comment, he asked, “Did the treaty go through?”

“Not yet,” Lucian let the cigar fall and he crushed the ember beneath his heel as he pushed away from the wall. “Return to the castle once the storm ends,” and began to walk away from there.

Returning to the room, the door shut softly behind him.

Lucian crossed the room, the faint glow of the fireplace catching his silhouette as he made his way to the bed. He lowered himself onto the bed, turning onto his front, where she had slept in the past few nights. The faint trace of her scent lingered there, and his fingers brushed against the sheets before pressing faintly.

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