Chapter 43: The missing Groundling

It was past midnight. The rain continued to pour over the tall buildings and grounds that belonged to Sexton. Lightning struck, followed by thunder that shook all fragile elements, including the windows of Lucian’s room.

He sat at his desk, working on the last few notes of his thesis—a treatise for the future, which needed to be submitted as part of his class. He dipped the quill in the ink bottle before gliding it across the parchment. He enjoyed the solitude of these late hours, when the halls were still and he could immerse himself in his work without interruption.

When he was done, he placed the pages into his drawer and leaned back, stretching his neck backwards and staring at the ceiling. The flame crackled, and he straightened, getting up from his seat when his eyes fell to the couch in the room—it was empty.

He had given her the books to keep her from disturbing him, but she was still outside. He scowled before extinguishing the flame with his fingers, a quick sizzle sounding as he did, and then lay down on his bed.

Lucian closed his eyes, letting the sound of the rain surround him. But after a few minutes, his red eyes opened to darkness.

“But it would be a shame if something happened to her. You and I both know… the feeling of not being able to do something lingers far longer than the moment itself,” Dane’s words echoed in his mind.

“I should never have agreed to this arrangement,” Lucian muttered, his lips curling with annoyance. With a sigh, he rose from the bed, threw on his cloak, and stepped out into the corridor.

He prowled down the hall towards the dining room, but it was dark, cold, and empty. Not a trace of life stirred, as though the room itself were holding its breath. Turning away, he left, his steps echoing in the empty corridors as he made his way through the maze of dormitories.

At last, he stopped outside one of the rooms and knocked. The door cracked open, revealing Hailey’s sleepy eyes, which soon widened, her gaze shifting from surprise to apprehension at the sight of Lucian standing in the doorway.

“Lady Blake…” Hailey’s voice trembled slightly as she called her roommate.

“I’m here to speak to you,” Lucian interrupted coolly, his tone neutral—a tone that made Hailey instinctively uneasy. “Ruelle hasn’t returned to the room. Do you know where she is?”

“Ruelle?” Hailey’s brows furrowed as Blake joined her at the door. “She was summoned to see Headmaster Oak right after the game. I assumed she was busy or something, which is why she didn’t make it back in time for dinner. Are you certain she didn’t return?”

“Unless she’s turned into an invisible ghost. No,” Lucian replied, a flicker of irritation crossing his face.

“I thought she would have been back by now…” Hailey murmured, her concern deepening.

“Could she have gone somewhere else?” Blake ventured, glancing from Hailey to Lucian. “The library, maybe?”

Hailey shook her head and answered, “She doesn’t have access to it, and she would have told me if she planned to work on her knitting or find some other quiet corner. She mentioned using the older classrooms sometimes—the ones no one visits. Do you think she might have… run into someone?”

Lucian’s expression remained blank. Without another word, he turned away from the door, and left.

Hailey turned to Blake, whispering, “What if someone did do something to her? Like what happened with June? It could be Alanna or… or someone else.” Her voice grew urgent. “I should go look for her!”

“I will come with you,” Blake said, not wanting her roommate to get lost as well during the search.

Having spent considerable time at Sexton, Lucian knew every nook and cranny of the establishment. His red eyes scanned through the abandoned classrooms, his ears picking up nothing but the sound of pattering rain against the windows and walls—until he reached the far end of the old wing.

A faint noise—muffled, barely audible over the thunder—caught his attention, coming from the floor above.

Inside the cupboard, Ruelle banged on the wooden door with trembling hands. Her breathing had grown faster, more erratic, and her voice had turned hoarse from shouting for help.

“Please…” she whispered, her voice cracking as her hand slid down to her lap.

It felt as though she had been forgotten, as she had been so many times before—a prisoner to loneliness. Her eyes stung as she squeezed them shut, trying to block out the darkness. She wrapped her arms around herself, huddling tightly, but the cold air seeped through the cracks, sinking deep into her bones. Then, she heard it—a faint creak, the softest whisper of movement.

Ruelle’s breath hitched. She opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden sliver of light piercing through the darkness as the cupboard doors opened wide.

Standing there was none other than Lucian.

The expression on his face was unreadable. His gaze held hers, steady, silent, assessing, as if he were searching for something, though she couldn’t quite tell what. For a moment, neither of them moved, caught in that tense, quiet space.

Ruelle’s heart pounded as the lightning suddenly illuminated the room and she took in the sight of him—the chiselled jaw, the faint crease between his eyebrows. The dark cloak falling over his shoulders, his red eyes glinting, his figure tall and imposing, radiating an aura that was both intimidating and strangely…reassuring.

And in that brief flash, he seemed untouchable, like some dark prince out of an old legend.

But as quickly as the lightning appeared, it vanished, leaving only shadows behind. Then the thunder roared through the air once again, shaking the windows and reverberating through the walls.

Ruelle flinched, fear coursing through her, tearing down the walls of her own fragile composure. Before she knew it, she leapt out of the cupboard in fear and her hands found his coat, clinging to the fabric. The room fell silent, her face pressed close to his broad chest as she breathed quickly and unsteadily.

Lucian froze, his arms hanging stiffly at his sides, caught off guard by the suddenness of her proximity. He could feel her shivering against him, her hands gripping his coat tightly, her breath warm against his chest.

After a long, uncertain moment, he murmured, “You are safe now. There’s no need to be scared anymore.”

Though his voice still carried a touch of irritation, it also held the barest hint of softness.

Ruelle blinked, as though pulled back from a haze, and slowly tilted her head back to look up at him with her tear-streaked face. She whispered, “Thank you…for letting me out.”

“No problem. I am hoping the cupboard didn’t decide to lock you in, considering the trouble that follows you around,” Lucian murmured with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He then cleared his throat again, an edge creeping back into his tone, “Are you planning on releasing my cloak anytime soon?”

Ruelle blinked, glancing down, realising her white-knuckled grip on his cloak. Embarrassment bloomed across her face as she quickly loosened her hold, stepping back with an apologetic expression.

“I’m sorry!” she stammered, averting her eyes as the heat rose in her cheeks, and took another step back.

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