Chapter 155: Nothing Without Consequences

A nervous sweat broke across Ruelle’s skin. The chain’s hook latched with a soft click. She schooled her expression, and as she pulled herself away, Lucian’s eyes followed her.

“The blood on your skirt wasn’t yours… was it?” She shook her head at his question. He watched her, as if dissecting her expression, before saying, “Mind if I check?” There was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite read.

“Check?” Ruelle repeated, feeling slightly nervous.

She then saw him lower himself onto one knee without breaking his gaze.

A gasp escaped from her lips when his hands slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his cold fingers touching her ankles. His fingers brushed higher. Slow and careful, as if inspecting for a wound, and her breath faltered.

“Impressive,” Lucian murmured, his touch lingering a moment longer before he dropped his hands. “You didn’t get hurt.”

“I told you…” Ruelle breathed, her eyes turning unfocused. She hadn’t expected him to check himself.

Lucian rose slowly, towering over her and forcing her to look up. Ruelle knew what work he did for the courthouse. Lies didn’t last long around men like him. She revealed,

“There were things that happened. A pot inside one of the houses, it just… came back to life.”

“And?” Lucian coaxed, his voice low, the softness of it wasn’t the same as the way he watched her.

“I have been hearing things. Voices” Ruelle confessed hesitantly, something she hadn’t told Hailey. “At first, I thought it was something to do with the fortune teller… but now that I think about it, it must be the ghosts from the abandoned house.”

She had given him only half the truth.

The rest refused to leave her lips, caught somewhere between what she had witnessed the king could do… and what Lucian was capable of. It would not end without consequence.

Not to mention, Hermes didn’t look like he would stay quiet this time if he saw Lucian kiss or be around her. And she wasn’t going to pull him into it this time. Though she had agreed for the next two days, would she survive?

“Do you remember what the voices wanted?” Lucian straightened.

Ruelle tried to answer but the words didn’t come as easily as they should have. Her thoughts slipped, scattering somewhere between what she meant to say and the way he was looking at her, how he stood there unbothered with just a towel. And somewhere in the look in his eyes, it felt deliberate.

“It wasn’t just one. I did hear a name. Daisy,” Ruelle said with a small frown. “But I don’t know anyone by that name. It was when I touched the peony pot.”

A faint, awkward smile followed, and she said, “Perhaps I should visit the church. It has been a while.”

Lucian didn’t respond and he went still at the mention of the flowers. Claude had said she remembered nothing. But there was a possibility.

“I should go change my clothes,” Ruelle murmured and quickly walked to the other side of the divider while pressing the back of her hand on her forehead. Once she changed into a fresh set of clothes and stepped out of the divider, she turned to him and asked,

“Lucian… have you been to the castle?”

“Briefly,” he replied, adjusting the sleeve of his black shirt. “Why?”

“There were a lot of books there on witches,” Ruelle said, her brows drawing slightly as she thought back. “I didn’t get the chance to read them, but I kept wondering if there might be something on Belladonna. Or the mirror.”

“I doubt you would have found anything useful,” Lucian said, sitting on the edge of the desk, his gaze fixed on her. “No one has heard of the mirror. Things like that aren’t written down.”

“Then where do I look for answers?” Ruelle asked him earnestly.

“If the small mirror you have can return to its original form every time it breaks, then the rest of the mirror should still exist somewhere. That’s where you start,” he stated.

“I think I’ll go see Brother Dane,” Ruelle said after a moment, making her way towards the door. “There’s something I need to give him.”

Stepping out of the room, she walked slow and careful to avoid raising any suspicion because something told her that Lucian’s ears were attuned to her footsteps.

When she reached the building where the staff room was, she ran into Ezekiel and Caroline walking from the opposite side of the corridor. Ezekiel reached up to fix Caroline’s hair, smiling at something she said.

“It was the merchant’s fault. Else I would have shown you how capable I am,” Caroline laughed, her hand looped through her husband’s arm. “When I used to—”

She stopped when she caught sight of Ruelle. Her grip tightened around her husband’s arm subconsciously without thinking.

Ezekiel only patted her back, then gave Ruelle a slight bow.

Ruelle was about to walk past them when Caroline spoke, her tone light, almost careless, “I’ll finally be returning to my old life. Ezekiel is the one buying me.”

But Ruelle didn’t respond as she crossed them. Caroline glanced at her elder sister from the corner of her eye, she then added, “It must be difficult for you. Having no one to step in for you.”

And when she didn’t get a response, her hands clenched, and she said, “But I suppose it isn’t your fault. Some people just carry misfortune with them. And it spills over.”

Ruelle’s steps slowed before coming to a halt. Turning, she said, “It’s good to know what you think, Caroline. Though if you really believed that, you wouldn’t be standing here trying to get me to talk to you.”

Caroline’s jaw tightened and she quickly replied, “You’re my sister. I still feel the need to speak to you.” After a pause, she continued, “Besides… it’s not as though I’m wrong. Am I? Mother said it is so with people born on the day of eclipses.”

For a moment, Ruelle didn’t say anything. Then she asked, .”Do you know anyone named Daisy?” The question landed oddly between them.

Caroline frowned, caught off guard. She pursed her lips before replying, “No. I don’t. Anyway, I wish you luck on the day of the auction. Hopefully you’re placed somewhere… decent.”

Ezekiel, who had stayed completely quiet until then finally spoke, “Let us go, Caroline.”

“Actually—” Ruelle spoke before they could leave. “Someone’s already bought me. Prince Edward.”

If Caroline was going to throw misfortune in her face, then she could return it just as easily. Though nothing was solidified, there was no harm in throwing it at her sister’s face.

Caroline laughed and replied, “It is not possible. The bidding hasn’t even begun.”

Ezekiel’s expression froze at Ruelle’s words. Rage flooded his mind, which had been festering for quite a few weeks as he hadn’t been able to kill another woman in the hopes of having Caroline framed. He wanted Ruelle, and now the damn prince had bought her?

He had to act soon. Maybe before today or tomorrow. No one would know if he took her somewhere safe.

“When it comes from the prince, timelines don’t matter,” Ruelle replied, noticing her sister frown with her lips pressed. “The prince asked for me to be his wife. You don’t have to pity me, who knows you might need it instead.”

“P–Pity?” Caroline’s voice caught before she forced it steady. “I was speaking out of concern, and you—”

But Ruelle didn’t stay to hear the rest as she continued walking down the corridor.

When she arrived at the place, the door was shut. She knocked once and twice , but there was no response. Her hand hesitated, and she wondered if he was out. But the door was locked.

Deciding to knock one more time, the door finally opened to reveal a woman with her hair tousled and her clothes barely put together. She wore a scowl and snapped,

“Stop knocking. What do you want?!”

“Who is it?” Dane’s voice came from inside.

“Don’t know. Some lowly human,” the woman answered, already starting to push the door to close it.

“Sorry—I didn’t mean to disturb—” Ruelle faltered, the realisation hitting a second too late. “I’ll just—”

“Ruelle?” Dane peeked out of the room with a surprise look. “What are you doing here?”

Ruelle’s face had turned slightly pink and she answered, “It isn’t anything urgent. I just came by to give this,” she handed the cloth bag to him and said, “Please continue,” and she turned to walk away.

But Dane caught her by the back of her scarf, chuckling. “Where are you going? Come on in,” pulling her into the room.

“What are you doing bringing her here? You know I can’t stand them,” the woman who was a vampiress, demanded in annoyance. The next moment her clothes were shoved into her hands and the door opened wider before she stumbled into the corridor. “What the hell, Dane?!”

The door closed shut.

Ruelle looked startled, her gaze flicking to the door. “Is that… okay?” she asked, unsure, as the woman’s fuming voice could be heard down the corridor before it faded.

“Don’t worry about her,” Dane replied, already reaching into the bag. “Now—what did you get me?” He pulled out a bracelet which was made out of black threads and red beads, turning it between his fingers.

“A souvenir from the fair,” Ruelle said. “I got a few.”

“I like it,” Dane responded, slipping it on his wrist. He glanced at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t think you’d come all this way to see me.”

“It felt like it was too long since I last saw you,” Ruelle smiled softly.

Dane stilled for a second, then suddenly his arms came around her and he replied, “Brother Dane misses you too. Let us spend time together.” He patted her head before pulling away with a wide smile.

Ruelle and Dane spent time talking about Christmas and other random things before she asked,

“Brother Dane, have you met the king?” She would have asked Lucian, but right now getting the answers from Dane seemed easier without being questioned.

“You mean King Septimus?” he asked, sipping on the blood he had ordered from the servant bell while she held a fruit juice. Seeing her nod, he replied, “I have. Why do you ask?”

Ruelle shrugged her shoulders. She replied, “Just a little curious. I heard some of the pure-blooded vampires are gifted. So the king should be too.”

“Mm,” Dane hummed, placing the glass on the armrest. “He has several of them. From what I know it would be the resurrection of things. His hands shapeshift and yes, he can turn to mist. An excellent ability when it comes to combat.”

Did that mean if the king was in Sexton… She wouldn’t even know?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep