The clock on the mantel ticked steadily in the living room, each second pressing faintly against Ezekiel’s patience. He had been ready for some time now. Everything was in place except for his wife.

His thoughts drifted to Ruelle.

By now, her parents would have reprimanded her for her shameful action. He imagined her standing there silent and wounded. When he reached there, he would offer her what she lacked. A shoulder and a reminder that she still had him.

He had a meeting with Lorenzo Helsing, but he had postponed it because it could wait today.

At last, Caroline entered the living room, her dress catching the light as she moved, flattering her skin exactly as she had intended. She had been careful to make sure people of Brackenwell knew her status had risen and that she was no longer poor.

“I am almost ready,” she said with a small laugh.

Ezekiel reminded her, “We should hurry. It would be rude to arrive late.”

“Mother and Father aren’t going anywhere,” Caroline replied with a shrug, though she nodded after a second. She lifted the pearl necklace in her hand. “Would you help me with this?”

“Of course,” Ezekiel murmured, getting up from his seat. He stepped behind her and fastened the hook of the necklace. But his fingers lingered at her nape, close enough to feel the warmth beneath her skin. For a brief moment, the urge to tighten his grip surfaced in his mind.

“Is it stuck?” Caroline asked, unaware of her husband’s ill intentions.

Not yet, he reminded himself, withdrawing his hands away from her slender neck.

Instead he answered, “No. It looks perfect. The fabric suits you well. You chose wisely.” It wasn’t hard to change Caroline’s mood as she smiled brightly at his praise. “I regret that I couldn’t accompany you for it,” he added, his voice carrying regret.

“You are far too hard on yourself,” she offered, turning to him and resting her hands briefly against his chest. “I told you it was alright we can shop together next time. We can buy something for mother too, right?”

Megan Belmont. How could he forget that woman?

“Of course. She is family now,” Ezekiel said with a false smile. “Since I lost mine long ago, I consider myself fortunate to have gained yours.”

Caroline’s eyes lowered with a hint of sadness that she felt for her husband. She had always believed suffering made people kinder and Ezekiel was gentle, composed and endlessly giving, which seemed proof of it.

“I forget sometimes how alone you must have been,” she said quietly. “You lost everything. Your parents. Your home. And still you give so much.”

“It was a long time ago,” he assured her, which was slightly dismissive in a way that sounded like strength to Caroline.

Before she could answer, a servant stepped inside and bowed his head. He then informed, “Sire, there is a gentleman asking to see you.”

“Tell him I am engaged today,” Ezekiel didn’t hesitate in his response. “I will make time later.”

The servant lingered and replied, “He says he is the village officer from Brackenwell.”

Caroline looked up at once and murmured in surprise, “An officer from Brackenwell?”

Ezekiel barely reacted at this. His mind moved faster than his breath. He had been extremely meticulous the day he had June disappear. No one had seen him speak to her or had seen her enter his carriage. The officer of Brackenwell had no reason to come here. After all, he was a respected instructor, newly married, a man whose hands were publicly clean.

“Very well. Bring him in,” Ezekiel responded.

After a few seconds, the servant returned with the officer, who was in his mid-fifties. His hair was shoulder-length, brushed away from his high and frowning eyebrows. His clothes were regular to the eye, just like any other human passing on the street. He looked around the room, taking in the interiors before his eyes fell on the couple.

“I am Orev Thompson. I seem to have interrupted your day, Mr. and Mrs. Henley. I will try to keep it short,” the man spoke to the couple.

“You honour us with your visit. Please take a seat,” Ezekiel raised his hand towards the chair like a gracious host.

The man accepted it, taking a seat, and the couple sat down on the opposite side of the seating.

“Is something the matter, Mr. Thompson?” Caroline asked worried.

“I hope not, madam,” the officer responded, meeting her eyes. “I am here to enquire about June Clifford’s disappearance. Considering she was last seen visiting your family residence in Brackenwell. Her family has since raised concerns.”

“W–what do you mean they have raised concerns?” Caroline’s eyes widened. “They think I had something to do with her disappearance?!”

“It is only a mandatory questioning, madam,” Mr. Thompson answered in an even tone.

“June Clifford did come by that afternoon,” Caroline said after a brief pause. “She wanted to inquire about the tablecloth. She spoke with me and then left. I haven’t seen her after that.”

Mr. Thompson made a brief note in the small leather-bound book resting on his knee. He then continued without looking up,

“I was informed that there had been prior tension between the two of you.”

Caroline let out a short laugh which carried disbelief in it. She admitted,

“It is true that I did not like her. She spoke as though she were better than others, when in truth she was no different. Her family simply fared better than mine and she made certain everyone knew it.”

Ezekiel, who sat beside her, remained silent. His expression was composed and attentive, the very picture of a supporting husband, while she continued to speak,

“But it doesn’t mean I would ever harm her.”

Mr. Thompson studied her for a moment, his eyes thoughtful rather than accusatory. At last he said,

“You are right, disagreements are common. We found that one witness caught sight of her getting into a dark carriage further down the road. What colour of carriage do you have, Mr. Henley?”

Ezekiel could feel the prickle on his neck but he smiled. He replied, “A dark carriage, Mr. Thompson. Just like several others.”

“And did you meet her along with your wife, Mr. Henley? When she visited the house,” the investigating person questioned.

“I did not meet Miss Clifford. My wife received her briefly. She left soon after,” Ezekiel replied calmly.

Caroline turned to him in quiet surprise. She had not told him how long June had stayed. The officer gave a faint hum of acknowledgement as he wrote, before saying,

“You speak for your wife with ease. I wonder whether Miss Clifford found you equally reassuring, Mr. Henley You are an instructor at Sexton Academy and Miss Clifford was your student there. You teach subjects that require… proximity. Especially with a subject like seduction techniques.”

“Young women tend to be reserved when it comes to such subjects,” Ezekiel answered, his gaze unwavering as he met the officer’s eyes as though he had nothing to hide. “They usually approach the head instructor Gemma Gilbert. I do not recall any direct interaction with Miss Clifford.”

“I see,” Mr. Thompson noted. “Did you hear of any altercation between Miss Clifford with another student?”

Ezekiel shook his head once and replied, “No.”

The officer exhaled and stated, “Sexton has a reputation of disappearing humans with unknown incidents and their absences are often swept under the rug. We only hope to offer justice to at least one human especially when she has disappeared outside Sexton.”

“We understand,” Ezekiel appeared agreeable. “We are happy to assist in any way we can.”

“That will be all for now,” Mr. Thompson concluded, closing his book and getting up from his seat. “I will not take more of your time today. But I may return if I have something more to ask.”

Once the officer left, Ezekiel fixed his coat and instructed the servant, “Bring the carriage around. We will be leaving.”

“Yes, sire,” the servant bowed and left.

He had just taken a step forward, when Caroline’s voice faltered,

“Ezekiel—What did he mean by seduction techniques?” the words almost sounded improper.

The half-vampire watched her confusion with unease creeping in her eyes. He replied with a smile,

“It is not as exaggerated as it sounds. The title is far more provocative than the subject itself.”

But Caroline wasn’t satisfied with the response. She murmured, “I did not know you taught something like that. I thought it was… something common.”

Ezekiel picked up her hand and replied without hesitation, “It was the only subject available at the time. I am not the head instructor but a mere assistant. Most of the students are directed to Gemma Gilbert. I rarely conduct such lessons myself. I understand why it unsettles you, which is precisely why I have been looking elsewhere for work.”

She looked up at him, startled. “You have?” she whispered.

“Of course.” His voice softened. “Since marrying you, my priorities have changed. I would never wish for you to feel uncomfortable on my account.”

The words struck at the right moment and Caroline’s shoulders eased slightly. She confessed, “It is just that you didn’t say anything.”

“I did not wish to trouble you unnecessarily. Especially when I knew the arrangement would not last,” Ezekiel replied to her.

Caroline stayed silent for a moment, then nodded. Trust with him which was familiar and instinctive, began to settle back into place. Though it did not rest as easily as before. She admitted, “I suppose I never asked.”

When he took another two steps, ready to step out of the room, she suggested, “Ezekiel, Perhaps it would be better if we didn’t visit my parents today.”

His footsteps paused.

“I mean, they already have enough to worry about,” Caroline continued, her fingers tightening lightly in her skirts. “The officer coming to the house and questioning about June, saying we are suspects too…. I don’t wish to burden them with our moods. I was thinking maybe we go out into town as we couldn’t last time. Just the two of us.”

Ezekiel had cleared his day, waited for long and now Caroline wished to change the schedule. His hands curled into fists beneath his coat but he smiled.

“That sounds sensible. If it will put your mind at ease,” he replied.

Relief crossed Caroline’s face at once and she stepped forward. She pressed a light kiss on his cheek and said, “Thank you for being so considerate.”

When she stepped out of the room, Ezekiel’s expression fell right away. His patience was growing paper thin. Caroline was no longer merely an inconvenience but an obstacle. And obstacles, if left unattended, had a way of ruining careful plans.

He exhaled slowly. There were many ways to remove a hindrance. And what better way than to let Caroline take the fall for the Clifford girl’s murder?

Meanwhile, the carriage that belonged to the Slater’s family rolled along the forest road as the town drew closer. Dane and Sawyer chattered inside, filling the space with their words while others stayed silent. Ruelle, who sat next to the open window, felt the cool air slip inside and her fingers tightened at her lap. The weather was growing colder and quickly.

“The Winter ball will be held before Christmas?” Sawyer asked.

“Yes, it is meant to be grander this year,” Dane replied. “The royal household will be assisting with the arrangements as Edward is attending Sexton briefly.”

“Ruelle,” Sawyer called her from the other side of the seat. “I would like to formally invite you to the Ravencroft Christmas celebration this year.”

Ruelle hesitated before answering, “Thank you for the invitation. But I must decline. My brother-in-law will be hosting one at his residence this year and I wouldn’t be able to attend yours.”

“Aw, that is unfortunate,” Sawyer replied with a sigh. “Still, I will see that your gift reaches you.”

His thoughtful words only settled heavily on Ruelle as her thoughts stumbled. Because a gift meant it would have to be returned and she didn’t know if she had that much time to prepare for it. The carriage, though spacious, suddenly felt small. Lucian spoke before she could say something,

“Gifts tend to create expectations. You have placed her in a position where she feels obliged to return it, Sawyer.”

Sawyer blinked, then apologised, “Ah—that wasn’t my intention. I meant no such pressure. You need not worry about returning anything.”

Dane, who had been listening to them, remarked lightly at her seating, “I had assumed you favoured my company, Ruelle. But it seems like it isn’t true.”

“It isn’t like that,” Ruelle replied quickly with her pale cheeks catching colour, while she managed a smile. Truthfully, she didn’t know why she had chosen the seat next to Lucian.

“She does appear uncomfortable,” Sawyer commented.

“Of Lucian?” Dane sighed dramatically. “That would explain it. Come, sit here.” It was then that she felt Lucian’s attention fully upon her.

“I am quite alright,” Ruelle replied, turning her head slightly toward Lucian and added, “Truly.”

“I did not ask,” Lucian replied, already returning his gaze to the passing trees.

When the group finally arrived in the town, Ruelle caught sight of two tall pillars at the town’s entrance, joined by an arch and darkened with age. On top of each of the pillars sat a grotesque statue. Once the carriage came to a pause, they stepped out of it.

“Ruelle!” Ruelle heard someone call her name. When she turned in the direction of the voice, her eyes widened.

“Caroline?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep