The book in Lucian’s hand closed with a soft thud. Yet the sound made the woman in the chair jolt and her shoulders stiffened, her face turning ashen. He rose from his seat, setting the book on the empty chair.

“W–why have I been brought here?” the woman stammered. “Let me go—please—my shop is unattended. I—I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“Your shop will manage without you,” Lucian’s expression remained unreadable, his footsteps quiet on the barn floor. He stopped behind her and said, “Word is that you have been selling information about vampires. Tell me if that is passing gossip.”

“I don’t know who said that!” the bound woman blurted. “I swear I don’t know anything—someone must be lying about me—”

Lucian simply pressed his index finger on the nail that was already embedded in her palm and pushed it further. A painful scream erupted from the woman’s mouth.

He watched her reaction with a detached look. When her breath crumpled into sobs, he spoke,

“Let’s try again.” Her pain filled eyes lifted to meet his. “Whom do you work for?”

“It—it hurts—! Please, I don’t know anything—I am innocent—!” the woman cried, gasping in pain.

“Curious. You seem in pain, but your heart rate didn’t spike once,” Lucian hummed, his head tilting to the side. “People only lie that steadily when they have had experience.”

The previous night, once the cake had been cut, Minister Gaile had followed Lucian into his quiet study. The door shut softly behind them and the minister spoke,

“Forgive the intrusion, I would not have pulled you away unless the matter demanded it.”

Lucian leaned back against the edge of the desk and asked, “What is it?”

Gaile exhaled before beginning, “I found out some humans have been gathering information about pureblooded vampires and passing it to a small rebel faction. We managed to capture only one person.”

Lucian’s expression didn’t change. He commented, “This falls under Minister Caedom’s jurisdiction.”

“Usually, yes. But I thought you might be more interested in this one,” Minister Gaile lips pressed into a thin line and he continued, “She is connected to the time when the war took place…”

Lucian’s eyes slightly narrowed, while his gaze remained cool. He asked, “Where is she now?”

“Held in the cell. You can come by tomorrow when you are free,” Minister Gaile informed him.

But the gears in Lucian’s head had already begun to move. He replied, “I appreciate the consideration, Minister, but I’ll take her tonight.”

The woman who had been whimpering in pain until now went quiet. She finally spoke. “You should have died… when you had walked into my shop that day.” After a pause, she added, “Your kind deserved to be wiped out. Every last one who sheltered monsters like her.”

She watched him, waiting for a reaction from him. But Lucian only regarded her with the same calmness one might reserve for a moth beating itself against the glass. He didn’t blink or move.

When he asked again, his tone remained nonchalant, “Whom do you work for?”

The woman let out a soft laugh which didn’t stay on her lips for long.

“Do you think I am foolish enough to hand you the only leverage I have?” she asked as she breathed heavily from the pain of the nails. “The moment I tell you anything, you will kill me. Why else would I be dragged here? Tied to a chair, nailed like this? You can’t do anything severe unless I give you something first. And I won’t.”

“It is folly to believe holding the information is the only thing that keeps you alive,” Lucian replied. “Though I must agree that choosing to sell ribbons does make you seem less suspicious of someone who keeps eyes and ears on the pureblooded members of the society.”

He stepped away from her, making his way to one side of the barn.

“Why drag me into the forest if you were only going to nail me to a chair? Is that what you vampires call amusement? And then you wonder why your kind dies,” the woman mocked. “All of you will die. Even that blonde girl who was with you in the forest.”

Lucian, who had picked up a can from the corner, his hands stilled for a moment at her words. But then he began to walk back towards her.

The woman let out a laugh and questioned, “W–what now? You are going to burn me? If you think that sort of threat will break me, it won’t.” She swallowed.

Lucian didn’t look at her as he responded,

“It would be rude to use fire on you. Especially after what you said,” and he came to stand behind her. He pulled the can’s stopper with a soft pop before pouring the brown liquid over her head, which dripped down her. The liquid let out a sickly sweetness through the air.

The woman flinched and tried to get away from it, while her eyes widened. She asked in dread, “What are you doing?!”

Within a few seconds, the woman was covered in the sticky substance. She struggled to get out of the chair, but it was hard to do with the nails that were hammered into her palms and feet.

Lucian set the can aside and returned to the chair he was sitting on previously. A shallow trail of syrup had already crept across the floor, pooling near the leg of his seat. He rested his heel against a metal bucket positioned beside him.

The woman’s nervous eyes followed his movements and she stuttered, “W–what is that?”

“You mistook kindness for weakness,” Lucian remarked, before he nudged the metal bucket forward with a light kick.

The lid clattered loose before red ants spilt to the ground from it. They quickly moved towards the sweetness staining the floor that drew them in.

“No…” the woman’s lips trembled at the sight of them, the word barely making it past her teeth. “No—wait—”

Lucian crossed one leg over the other and adjusted the cuff of his shirt, his gaze lowered to where the ants gathered, their bodies darkening as they clustered thickly at the edge of the woman’s chair. A few had already begun to climb.

“You can’t do this! The Council—They will–” the woman panicked, while her chair shook violently.

“You will now know that pain is not a punishment,” Lucian said, “It is a reminder.”

When the first ant bit her, she screamed, with her body jerking against the nails. Some of the ants continued to swarm, with some disappearing beneath her dress. Her movements only made it worse. The woman’s cries turned into sobs as the ants spread, stinging her to the point where she had begun to bleed as the ants began eating her flesh.

“Wait—wait,” the woman sobbed, words tumbling out of her mouth. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you all of their names—There’s—there’s Harriel, the tailor’s son. There’s one near the old quarry. His name is Jonas and he’s the one who has been using the information—”

Lucian rose from his chair and began to walk towards the barn’s door.

“Where are you going—there’s more—?!” The woman turned frantic as the ants bit into her harder, revealing the scent of blood in the air. “I was useful!”

“Briefly,” Lucian replied without looking back, and he closed the barn door behind him while the woman continued to scream in agony.

Back in the Slater mansion, Ruelle stepped out into the corridor, where the noise of the guests had faded since they had begun to leave the mansion after lunch. When she came near a window, she could hear the faint sound of carriage wheels outside that eventually faded.

It was past three in the afternoon with sunlight slanting through the tall windows.

Ruelle gathered the skirt of her dress and started to climb down the staircase. Halfway down, she saw Lucian ascending the stairs. His dark coat hung over his forearm and his dark hair slightly ruffled from the wind. Her footsteps slowed and her fingers tightened against the hand railing.

When Lucian caught sight of her, his eyes lingered on her dress for a fleeting moment before it fell on her face.

“I—” She wanted to ask about the woman before. She hesitated, then tried again. “Mr. S and I… we won the hunt.”

Lucian paused two steps below her and inclined his head.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice giving nothing away. He then added, “My apologies about ruining your dress. I trust this one fits better than the last.”

“It does. But it’s okay, Mr. S is taking me into town and I will find a dress there,” Ruelle explained. “The woman earlier. Who was she…?” She tried to sound casual, but it felt it would be wildly inappropriate to ask directly.

Lucian seemed to consider her question before he answered, “Someone who committed a long-standing offence. One that required correction.”

“Correction?” Ruelle whispered as she stared back into his deep red eyes. So he had used the woman as bait to teach her a lesson? To scare her?

“She carried debts and they needed to be repaid,” Lucian responded before asking her, “Going somewhere?”

Ruelle nodded, “He called it… a celebratory outing.”

A faint sound escaped his lips which was something between a hum and an acknowledgement. But it pulled her upright like a finger at her chin. For a heartbeat, she felt as though he was looking straight past her expression, past her soul. Then he said,

“Wait for me.”

Lucian didn’t elaborate and walked past her. Was that his way of saying he intended to join them? By the time she turned to look over her shoulder, the pureblooded vampire was already gone.

A few minutes later, the steps outside the mansion were nearly deserted with the earlier crowd long gone. Only five of them remained gathered near the driveway. Dane leaned comfortably against the thick pillar, Lady Maxine stood next to Sawyer, who was happy to accompany them, and Ruelle stood quietly facing the garden.

Truthfully, Ruelle had planned to take her leave right after lunch, as she believed it was sensible to return to Sexton. But during the meal, Dane invited his cousins to join the outing, making it impossible for her to avoid it. And here she was, standing and smiling faintly as if this was something she did often.

Her eyes then drifted to Renard.

The vampire paced like a leashed wolf and was ready to bite a vampire’s head off, which was undoubtedly Dane’s and maybe next in line was her. The vampire paused and exhaled, crossing his arms. He demanded,

“Are you going to tell me what you want? Everyone else has left, yet I am here. I have business to attend.” Having lost the bet made last night, he was forced to stay.

Dane clicked his tongue with a light shake of his head. He stated, “Because you lost. Losers stay behind.” He flashed a smile that was both sweet and insufferable at the same time before adding, “Patience builds character.”

“Patience?” Renard muttered begrudgingly. “I don’t care to cultivate it, especially when you cheated me.”

“You cheated too, Renard. Everybody cheats,” Sawyer offered with a shrug.

“You are making us sound like jilted lovers, Sawyer. What would people say if they heard it?” Dane continued to taunt, as if enjoying the moment, only to receive a glare from Renard.

Lady Maxine turned to look at Ruelle and asked, “Is Lucian actually coming?” She sounded doubtful, especially knowing Lucian. “Voluntarily?”

Sawyer chuckled at the vampiress’s words, while Ruelle managed a smile, “He did say he would.”

Soon a black carriage rolled in front of them that was pulled by four horses with the footman sitting in the driver’s seat. The carriage was big enough to accommodate the six of them comfortably.

At the same time, Lucian stepped outside the mansion’s entrance and Dane brightened. He clapped his hands and said, “Perfect timing. Let us not keep the town waiting.”

Lucian descended the front steps with quiet ease. Ruelle noticed he had changed his clothes even though she hadn’t found a speck of dirt on them. For a brief moment, their eyes met.

“Do you think Mr. Carcas will be available? I placed orders for the Winter’s celebration recently,” Lady Maxine mused as she lifted her skirt and stepped into the carriage with effortless poise.

“I have already sent word that we will be visiting. He should have everything prepared,” Dane replied, following her and claiming the seat next to her.

Sawyer climbed in next, choosing the opposite seat. Lucian entered after him, settling beside Sawyer without a single word.

But when Ruelle stepped forward, reaching for the carriage’s handle, Renard suddenly appeared next to her, wearing an aristocratic disdain.

“Sexton has clearly failed in teaching humans their place,” Renard sneered, each word dipped in venom. “It will be cramped enough without you. Your seat is at the back.”

Ruelle froze. The familiar sting of humiliation rising in her chest.

Renard moved to climb inside, but he never made it. A long leg slid out from the carriage and barred the way as casually as closing a door. Renard nearly stumbled, eyes narrowing.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Renard hissed in annoyance.

Inside, Lucian remained seated exactly as he was, with one gloved hand of his resting on his knee and his posture relaxed. Though his gaze was sharp enough to draw blood. He then reminded the vampire who stood outside,

“You lost the wager, Renard. The terms were clear.”

Renard turned ruffled and began, “That does not entitle you to—”

“It entitles me to remind you that your forfeit was to serve the Slaters during this outing. Just like any other human servant,” Lucian’s tone barely changed.

Ruelle blinked. It was because she definitely did not remember anyone mentioning that last night. Dane, Sawyer, and Maxine offered no support. Though Dane was the only one who openly showed his amusement.

Lucian continued, with the same cold voice, “It would be rude to have you sit in the luggage compartment. You may sit with the coachman.”

Humiliation flickered along Renard’s jaw, tightening the corners of his eyes. For a moment, Ruelle thought he would defy the wager agreed upon, but Lucian gave him no room to do so.

Still looking at Renard, Lucian spoke to Ruelle calmly, “Belmont. Climb in.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep