The following morning, as the sun's gentle light filtered through the curtains, Ruelle woke with a lingering sense of unease. Memories of last night clung to her like morning mist, reminding her to tread carefully and keep a wary eye out for the vampiresses she had cleverly yet recklessly deceived. She knew it was best to dress quickly and make her way to class before trouble had a chance to find her.
A soft yawn broke the silence from across the room, drawing Ruelle's attention. June stirred slowly, stretching as if she were used to mornings that promised more rest and less haste.
"Morning," June greeted, her tone surprisingly soft.
"Morning…" Ruelle replied, wondering how June was coping with the humiliation she had endured the day before.
June hesitated, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I... want to apologise for the last time with the sweaters. I didn't realise how hard things could be for us humans until last night," she confessed, fidgeting slightly. "We really need to support one another."
Ruelle considered her words carefully before offering a reassuring smile. "We should. Let bygones be bygones, right?"
June nodded, relief softening her features. "You are kind. I was thinking, if your family sells sweaters, maybe I could help. We could find ways to make things better for both of us."
The suggestion sparked an idea in Ruelle, lighting up her face with a bright smile. "The sweaters… That's it! I could actually earn some money by selling them."
June noticed the shift in Ruelle's voice, her relief evident, which seemed to affect her own guarded demeanour for a moment. "Also from now on, I'll be quick when it's my turn for the bath. This way, you will have enough time, so you won't have to rush so much."
"That would be great..." Ruelle replied.
As June gathered her clothes and prepared to head to the bath, she paused, turning back to Ruelle. "You know what? You should go first today. I've left my bed a mess anyway."
"Really?" Ruelle asked, her tone laced with uncertainty, unsure if this was truly a gesture of goodwill or if there was something else behind it.
June shrugged casually. "It's only fair, considering I went first yesterday. Plus, it'll give me some time to sort my things out," she added with a light wave of her hand.
Ruelle stepped into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click that resonated in the quiet space. She unbuttoned her nightgown, allowing the fabric to drift gracefully to the floor. Preparing herself for the familiar, sharp chill of the morning bath, she lowered herself into the tub.
However, as she turned the faucet, she was met with a cascade of murky water, its surface swirling with dark tendrils of grime. Her eyes widened in shock as she quickly stepped out, reaching for a towel and wrapping it tightly around herself. With the dirty water still pouring into the tub, she hurriedly exited the bathroom, driven by a mix of confusion and anger.
"Oh, good, you are done with your bath—" June began, her voice dripping with faux-pleasantness, but her eyes widened theatrically as Ruelle re-entered the room, clearly dishevelled. "What happened to you?"
Ruelle stared at the June. "Is this your doing? Is that why you let me take a bath first?"
"What? Me? I wasn't even in the bathroom, Ruelle. How would I know what happened?" June feigned innocence and a look of hurt crossed her features. "It must have been the senior vampiress! They were very mad at you yesterday, remember? They must have sneaked in while we were asleep."
For a moment, doubt flickered in Ruelle's mind. It was possible, given what occurred last night. However, she caught a fleeting smirk tugging at the corners of June's lips—a silent confession of her trickery. "It wasn't them—it was you! I knew your kindness was too good to be true. I haven't wronged you, so why are you trying to sabotage my life here?"
June sighed dramatically, her performance skilful and seemingly heartfelt. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's very rude of you to blame me, Ruelle. I thought we could leave the past behind, but clearly, you don't want to," she shot back, her tone dripping with faux sincerity. Before Ruelle could respond, June added, "I'm going to get ready now. Excuse me."
A wave of frustration surged through Ruelle, her hands clenching at her sides at June's unapologetic deceit. The sheer pettiness and malice left her stunned. She pursed her lips as she watched her roommate disappear into the bathroom, closing the door with a composed air.
Left standing there, still damp and covered with remnants of grime, Ruelle realised she had no choice but to find a way to wash it off her as it didn't look like the girl was going to step out of the bathroom anytime soon.
With a sigh of exasperation, she slipped into her clothes from yesterday, picked up her fresh ones, and darted out of the room. In her hurry, as she pulled the door closed behind her, the hem of her dress snagged on the latch, inadvertently clicking it into a locked position. Oblivious to the incident in her haste and frustration, she hurried down the corridor.
On her way, she could hear the snickers of passing students, their laughter echoing in the hallway only adding to her mortification. She finally reached Hailey's room and knocked on the door with a sense of urgency.
The door creaked open, and Hailey's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her. "Ruelle?"
"Can I use your bath, please?" Ruelle asked, her voice mingling hope with a hint of pleading. She cast a glance past Hailey into the room for reassurance.
"Of course! Come in," Hailey replied warmly, stepping aside to invite her in. "Blake had some classwork and left early, so it's just me. My things are on the right if you need them. But how did you—"
"It was June," Ruelle interjected with a sigh, frustration mingling with resignation. "I think she tampered with the faucet or the pipes. She won't admit it, of course." She couldn't help but think that rooming with a vampire would have been less stressful compared to dealing with June Clifford.
"I'm sorry you have to endure her," Hailey sympathised, offering a comforting smile. "Let me go get something for you to eat while you shower. It will save time. Go on."
Ruelle felt a sense of gratitude at Hailey's offer. "Thank you."
Stepping into the bathroom, Ruelle hurriedly peeled off her clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin where the grimy water had left its mark. She tossed her sullied clothes into a bucket of water, deciding to let them soak while she focused on washing the morning's chaos away.
Cupping her hands, she poured clean water over her head, feeling the water stream down, carrying away the residue of dirt and frustration. For a fleeting moment, she imagined leaving this place behind. She could return to the simplicity of previous life rather than compete in this toxic race where everyone seemed intent on pulling each other down.
As she lathered the soap through her hair, Ruelle's thoughts danced around the idea of escape. After thoroughly rinsing, she wrapped her hair in the towel, squeezing out the excess water before securing the same towel around her body. As she stepped back into the room, her bare feet whispered against the wooden floor, only to come to an abrupt halt.
Her breath hitched in her throat as her eyes landed on the figure standing at the far side of the room—a tall, dark silhouette against the glow of the morning sun rays. Her heart began to race, the rapid thudding loud in her ears as she recognised the vampire.
Lucian stood by the desk, his back turned to her, one hand casually flipping through a stack of books. His movements were precise and indifferent, as if she wasn't present. Ruelle fidgeted nervously, shifting her weight before quickly grabbing her dress to cover her shoulders, desperately trying to cover herself.
"This is the girls' room! You shouldn't be here!" Ruelle's voice trembled. But Lucian didn't so much as flinch, his long fingers continuing to flip through the pages of a book as though she hadn't spoken at all. "Did you hear me? This is the—"
"There's no need to shout." His voice was deep and cold. He didn't bother turning to look at her, his disinterest evident. "I heard you the first time."
Ruelle's breath caught, her skin prickling at the dark velvet of his tone. She wanted to demand he leave, to assert some control, but the words faltered in her throat. She had to get dressed—she needed to, if she was going to make it to class—but how could she with him here?
"Can you… can you please leave?" she stammered, her voice shaky yet louder this time, "I—I can't get ready with you standing here."
Lucian let out a low, soft chuckle, the sound as cold as it was dismissive. "I have no interest in what a human like you does." His voice was like silk, deceptively gentle but dripping with the same icy detachment as his gaze. The way he uttered 'human' sent a sharp sting through her, like a subtle insult. He moved away from the desk and strode towards the cupboard as though he owned the place.
Ruelle bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Who's bothering who? Gathering her courage, she asked, "Do you always barge into places without warning?" she asked, though her voice wavered, betraying the confidence she tried to project.
A sharp exhale escaped Lucian. He turned slowly, each movement deliberate and exacting. When his eyes finally locked onto hers, they were as sharp and cold as ice—piercing, detached, and utterly devoid of even the slightest hint of warmth.
"Do you make a habit of leaving doors unlocked?" His voice was soft, laced with a patronising undertone that sent a shiver down Ruelle's spine. "And last I checked, this room doesn't belong to you."
Ruelle blinked, momentarily stunned by his utter lack of regard. "This is my friend's room. The one you…" her voice trailed off, her eyebrows furrowed as she watched him casually resume his search through the cupboard. "The one you told to change her name. Acting mighty as if they have a hold on people's names," she muttered under her breath, half to herself but loud enough that Lucian's keen ears picked up every word.
Lucian's hand stilled before he turned to face her completely. The light from outside cast a faint glow around him, highlighting his dark, tousled hair and accentuating the sharp lines of his face.
"What did you say?" he asked, his voice barely audible yet laced with an unspoken threat.
Ruelle's pulse quickened. She bit her lip, her throat dry as she forced herself to speak. "You have no right to demand that she change her name. It's not up to you."
His eyes darkened, a flicker of something dangerous flashing across his face. He stepped toward her, each movement deliberate and unhurried, pulling the room's warmth with him, leaving an unmistakable chill in his wake.
"I will do whatever I please," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And you, human, would do well to remember your place."
Ruelle's breath hitched, her hands trembling. "You don't have to say it like that," she whispered, her voice smaller now, retreating. As if 'human' was some kind of dirty word.
The air around her almost felt suffocating. His presence was overwhelming her senses.
"Don't I?" he said, his voice low. "Do you think you're special because Sawyer paid a little attention to you? Do you think you're different from the rest of the pathetic, desperate humans who crawl their way here, grovelling for a place where they don't belong or a position they don't deserve?"
Ruelle flinched, her heart hammering in her chest. "I am not trying to grovel for anything," she managed to say, though her voice faltered. "I'll be leaving Sexton as soon as I can." It was something she decided while in the bath. She avoided his gaze, her body still embarrassedly aware of her half-dressed state, feeling more exposed than ever.
This wasn't a place for her and she was ready to pack her trunk.
"Leave?" he echoed, his voice soft, almost indulgent. "You won't." There was a dark certainty in his words that sent a chill through her.
She wanted to argue, to stand her ground, but the intensity of his gaze left her utterly speechless. She could feel her resolve crumbling under the force of his words, her confidence slipping away like sand through her fingers. But what slipped first was the dress clutched so desperately in an attempt to hide her shoulders, fell softly to the ground with a whisper of fabric.
Ruelle froze, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Every instinct screamed at her to move, to do something, but instead, she averted her eyes while standing in just a towel.
Before she could collapse under the weight of his gaze, seconds that felt like an eternity passed in silence. Then, without warning, Lucian turned. The abruptness of his movement left a void in the air. Without so much as a backward glance in her direction, he strode towards the door, his footsteps eerily silent. The door clicked shut behind him.
Alone at last, Ruelle sagged, her knees weak and trembling, threatening to give way beneath her. She held onto the towel tightly as she tried to steady herself.
Having already lost too much time, Ruelle hurried to get dressed. Once ready, she slipped out of the door, and as she reached the end of the corridor, she spotted Hailey.
"I had to sneak in the food because they wouldn't let me take it," Hailey said with a roll of her eyes. "So weird."
"Thank you for your thoughtfulness," Ruelle said, taking the food from her with a grateful smile. As they walked together towards class, Ruelle hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you, by chance, know where the head office is?"
"I don't," Hailey replied with a curious look. "But we can ask around. Why? Do you want to complain about Clifford?"
No, it wasn't about that, thought Ruelle. But before she could reply, June appeared to block her path. She was the last person she wanted to talk to or see right now.
"Funny, I was about to head to the office myself—maybe I'll just beat you to it and report how you hindered me from getting to my class by locking the door," June sneered, her eyes narrowing with malice.
Ruelle's brow furrowed. "What door?" she asked, her voice reflecting her genuine puzzlement.
"Don't act innocent." June folded her arms, her stance casual but confrontational. "That little stunt of locking me in my room? Pathetic, really. I wouldn't have expected it from you, but I guess it's always the quiet ones."
Ruelle didn't know what June was going on about, but if it did happen, she didn't feel bad about it considering the dirty water trick the girl had pulled earlier. Steeling herself, she offered a polite smile, "Perhaps it was the senior vampiress who mistook me for you."
"I will make sure you are reported!" June hissed before storming off down the corridor.
"I guess we can just follow her to find the office?" Hailey suggested lightly.
That was a good idea, and before long, Ruelle found herself standing a couple of steps behind June, who stood before Mr. Mortis. The room around them exuded an air of elegance, with the walls and ceiling wrapped in rich teak wood. Five lanterns hung from the ceiling, their soft light casting a gentle, flickering light that danced across the polished surfaces.
"My roommate, Ruelle Belmont, locked me in my room this morning!" June exclaimed, while the vampire meticulously scanned a parchment in his hand. "I was going to be late for an important class today."
Mr. Mortis lifted his gaze slowly, his expression exuding a weary patience as he glanced at the grandfather clock ticking away in the corner. "This morning?" he asked, his tone even, as though he had heard far more unnecessary complaints this morning in his long career at Sexton.
"Well, yes—this morning's class! She just—" June stammered, her anger faltering under Mr. Mortis' scrutinising gaze.
"So, despite being free before the class starts, rather than rushing to make it on time—which starts in two minutes—you're here?" Mr. Mortis questioned, eyebrows arching in mild disbelief.
June hesitated, realising her complaint wasn't as compelling as she'd hoped. "But she—"
"To the class. Now," Mr. Mortis ordered, his tone brooking no argument. June pressed her lips into a thin line and with a glare aimed at Ruelle, retreated from the room.
"And you two," he remarked, turning his keen gaze to Ruelle and Hailey, "do you require special instructions?"
Hailey shook her head in fear, quickly turning to leave, only to see Ruelle step forward. The latter's heart pounded as she stood before Mr. Mortis's desk.
The weight of the vampire's gaze bored into her, but Ruelle pushed through, her voice just above a whisper. "I—I want to quit Sexton," she informed him.
Mr. Mortis fixed her with a gaze before he spoke in a tone of finality, "From the moment Groundlings and Halflings cross Sexton's doors, they become its possession. This is not a place you can enter or exit at will. Now, I suggest you return to class—unless you intend to fall behind by choice."
Ruelle clutched the quill in her hand while she sat in class. Despite the passing hour, her mind was shackled to Mr. Mortis's words. She couldn't leave Sexton? The establishment owned them? Was her family aware of this?
After the Antiquity class, which was the study of vampire and human history, the Elites stayed behind while the Groundlings moved on to their next lesson.
"What does S.T stand for?" Ruelle asked as she tightened the ribbon in her hair.
"Maybe Sexton and something staring with T? Or maybe survival tactics," Hailey joked.
When they stepped into the room with the other students, Ruelle noticed that instead of the usual desks and blackboards, the room had benches lining the walls and…a single bed.
Her eyes were drawn to a striking vampiress standing at the centre of the room. She wore a red dress with a white cravat adorning her neck, fastened with a green pin that glinted in the candlelight. Despite the long velvet curtains, there were no windows. Similarly, though hooks adorned the ceiling, no chandeliers hung from them.
"Settle in everyone," the instructor ordered as the rest of the students filed into the room.
One boy, crossing to the front, stumbled, only to be caught by the instructor's swift and steady grip.
"Pardon me!" The boy apologised, who appeared to be fifteen years old.
As the room fell silent, all eyes fixed on the instructor. She leaned in close to the boy's face, creating evident tension in the air. Was she going to kiss a student? The question rippled silently through the room. The boy's lips parted ever so slightly, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty clear on his face.
"It seems we'll be refining some manners in this class, won't we?" The instructor murmured, her voice smooth and assured.
The boy, clearly from a higher social standing despite his human status, flushed and hurriedly moved to the side, embarrassment colouring his cheeks. A soft chuckle escaped the instructor's lips—a playful melody that broke the tension.
"I am Gemma Gilbert, your instructor for Seduction Techniques this year. You may call me Gemma," she announced, her tone professional yet inviting.
Did she hear that correctly? Ruelle asked herself with a frown.
"Se—Seduction?!" stammered one of the Groundlings, their voice thick with shock. The word was nothing less than a taboo, rarely uttered in public.
"This is not supposed to be a subject. Any such activities before marriage are immoral!" One girl exclaimed, her face flushed with exasperation.
Ruelle stood rooted to the spot with a dumbfounded expression. Her gaze drifted to the bed at the back of the room, and her cheeks burnt with embarrassment, mirroring the rest of her classmates' faces.
"Firstly, you Groundlings won't be expected to 'do the deed.' As first years, you'll only be learning to understand the concept," Gemma continued, her tone both authoritative and alluring. "You must be prepared. Our world revolves around three pillars." She raised a hand and began counting them off with deliberate precision. "Power. Wealth. And lastly, sex. Seduction is a delicate dance of restraint and release. When does it truly begin? With a touch, or long before that?"
"What use will this be for someone training to be a guard?" a young man asked sceptically.
Gemma's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Imagine your master or mistress entertains a guest—perhaps even an enemy," she replied, her tone persuasive and smooth. "The skills you will learn here could prove vital for their protection. Should your master or mistress require your… attention, you must be prepared. Moreover, if you aspire to become the spouse of a prince, an earl, or any high-ranking vampire, wouldn't you want their attention focused solely on you?" Her sly smile widened, capturing the interest of the students, especially the girls.
"Remember," she added sternly, "what we practice here remains within these walls. Any misuse or inappropriate actions outside this classroom will have severe consequences for you, Groundlings." Her gaze hardened, emphasising the gravity of her warning.
"That's reassuring, isn't it?" someone in front of Ruelle asked in relief.
"She only mentioned Groundlings and didn't say anything about the Elites," another classmate murmured.
"To ease you into this class, let's begin with an activity. Close your eyes," Gemma ordered, clapping her hands with enthusiasm.
Ruelle apprehensively complied, closing her eyes until Gemma said, "Now, girls, think of the man who first comes to your mind. Boys, picture a girl. Write down their characteristics—"
"Like my father?" A confused voice interrupted.
Before Gemma could respond, another student interjected, "My sister?"
Gemma's eyes widened, a flicker of alarm crossing her face, and she muttered, "No! You have misjudged the intention of this class and we clearly need to establish some boundaries. Very well, let's adjust our approach," she said, recovering her composure and continuing smoothly.
Ruelle's mind raced. She was going to fail this subject—she was certain of it. It was because of the person who had materialised in her mind. Her thoughts swirled in anxious spirals. She had never interacted much with young men her age, let alone thought of them in any romantic way. This was uncharted territory.
When the opportunity of attending Sexton arose, she had known it was a sketchy place. Yet it offered something no other place did: a chance to make money, to earn enough to free herself from the burdens of her family's crushing debt. But never, in all her planning, had she expected to face something like this. The concept of seduction—of using her body to please someone she didn't even know—felt overwhelming, a step too far.
"Do you mind?"
A soft murmur pulled Ruelle abruptly from her swirling thoughts. Standing before her was a young man. He stood a couple of inches taller than her, his demeanour surprisingly calm. "What?" she responded, taken aback by the unexpected intrusion.
"Has everyone found a partner for the class?" Gemma's authoritative voice resonated through the room, commanding attention and momentarily quieting the ambient hum of conversation. "You'll need to pair with someone of the opposite sex," she continued, her instructions as firm as they were clear.
Ruelle glanced around, her gaze settling on Hailey, who was already beside another male student, laughing softly under the dim glow of the classroom candles.
"Unfortunately, my assistant is on leave, so the real classes start in two weeks," Gemma announced as she scanned the room. "Until then, we'll be working on assignments. Your first one is to observe your partner, document their characteristics, and submit your findings to me."
"You weren't moving, so I thought I should ask you. I'm Kevin Reynolds," the young man with black eyes introduced himself with a friendly nod. "I'm—" she began.
"Ruelle Belmont. I know," Kevin blurted before offering a sheepish smile. "I mean, I heard it when they were sorting us into our dorm rooms. If I may ask… how old are you?"
"Eighteen," Ruelle replied, and asking the same, "You?"
"Eighteen myself, though not for much longer. Two months, actually," Kevin confessed, his voice carrying a hint of pride. "I barely made the cut. My goal is to become a high-ranking minister in the royal court." He leaned in conspiratorially, shadows dancing across his face. "But, between you and me, seeing how things are here, I worry I'll end up just another guard." He paused. "What about you?"
Ruelle shrugged, offering an uneasy smile. "I suppose it depends on whether I pass my classes. That'll determine where I end up."
"You will pass just fine! I watched you jotting down notes," Kevin remarked with genuine admiration. "I'm still getting there myself, struggling a bit with spelling."
"If you'd like, I'd be happy to help," Ruelle offered warmly, noticing how Kevin's eyes lit up with her suggestion. She was already helping Hailey, so assisting another human seemed only natural.
"Really? You'd do that?" Ruelle nodded, seeing Kevin's initial anxiousness ease as they continued talking. "That would mean the world to me. I could even pay you with some of the money I will earn here!"
Ruelle shook her head gently, a soft smile playing on her lips. "No need for that."
"Have you gathered enough for library access yet?" Kevin inquired, his curiosity genuine.
"Not yet, but I hope to in time," Ruelle replied with an optimistic smile, a glint of determination in her eyes. Seeing her, Kevin couldn't help but be captivated by her resolve.
When lunch break arrived, Ruelle and Hailey were approaching the dining room, when June bumped her shoulder against Ruelle before walking past her. Ruelle's lips pursed at her childish roommate, watching her smugly flip her hair.
"You should probably try switching rooms," Hailey suggested. "She's like a little gargoyle."
A smile broke across Ruelle's lips and she replied, "Don't let her hear that, else she will be after you too." She then asked, "You think there are still people without roommates?"
"If I have heard it right, plenty of the vampires are," Hailey replied.
Ruelle whispered, "I am not so sure about that." The last thing she needed was to jump from the pan into the fire.
As they entered the room and made their way to their usual table, Ruelle's eyes scanned the room warily. She noticed masks disappearing from the Elites faces, with one such mask dissolving into a faint vapour, revealing Lucian's face beneath it.
Ruelle's heartbeat quickened at the memory of what happened after her bath, and she quickly used Hailey as her shield.
"What? Is it the vampiress??" Hailey asked, ducking her head. "No?" she asked upon seeing Ruelle shake her head.
"It's just that an Elite vampire was in your room earlier today. The one we met last night in the maze," she whispered, her voice barely audible. She glanced cautiously toward the other side of the room, where Lucian sat, his posture rigid as he spoke with his friends.
Hailey's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, Lucian Slater! He is Blake's best friend. He was probably there to see her. I mentioned the whole name change thing, and she just laughed and said he was probably joking."
It didn't seem like he was joking, though, Ruelle thought as she took her seat at the table.
Across the vast dining room, Lucian's gaze was sharp and unwavering. His expression was unreadable, his eyes holding an air of disinterest as he sipped the blood from his glass. Beside him, Sawyer leaned back in his chair, arms draped lazily across the backrest, while Blake sat in front of them with her legs crossed.
"Do you think this year's games will offer any true excitement?" Blake mused, tilting her head slightly, the question hanging lightly between them like an unsolved riddle.
Sawyer considered her words, a sly twist to his lips before responding, "If you ask me, the competition seems lacklustre at best. It's all about which team draws the shortest straw with the least capable player, isn't it?"
"True, but we can't overlook potential surprises," Blake countered, her tone effortlessly smooth. "Remember that Groundling from four years back? The one who turned the tide and rose to become the princess's guard?"
Sawyer nodded, grinning. "Ah, indeed. The teams won't take shape for a few more weeks. Until then, it's all trial runs as names get tossed about. That's part of the charm—the surprise element. Jinxy mentioned we'll be working with the first-year Groundlings. Should be quite the spectacle, right, Lucian?"
"Spectacle? It's nothing more than an exercise in futility," Lucian replied, his words tinged with subtle haughtiness. Sexton thrived on mixing not just classes but students of varied experience. "Perhaps it's amusing watching Sexton peddle the illusion of sociability—a glimmer of hope that never reaches the surface."
Lucian, along with others among the Elites, understood Sexton's true nature and the motives underlying its activities. The humans came seeking equality, yet by the end of the year, they found only harsh truths beneath the academy's shimmering veneer. As for the Groundlings, their efforts were little more than threads of insignificance in the larger weave—one that held little of his concern.
"Also, why did you scare Hailey? The poor girl was trembling last night," the vampiress queried, her lips pressing into a thin line.
"Who?" Lucian's response was coloured with aloof indifference.
Sawyer, his cousin, tilted his head in playful contemplation, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "Lucian unsettling someone?" he mused. "Hardly newsworthy. He has a knack for it, after all—be it men or women, Groundlings or Elites, he's—" he paused upon Lucian's glare, only to give him a smile. "I still love you, cousin."
Blake's eyes danced with a soft amusement as she rolled them subtly. "I'm speaking of my roommate. The Groundling." Her words were layered with gentle emphasis.
A fleeting frown ghosted across Lucian's face, vanishing almost as quickly as it appeared.
"Oh, that one!" Sawyer's face lit with recognition, his gaze wandering briefly toward the Groundlings' table. "I recall them from last night. Her friend, though—she's a cutie."
As Sawyer caught the curious gazes of other human girls aimed in his direction, he offered them a small, roguish wave before settling back into his seat. The playful light in his eyes was replaced by a shadow of confusion. He asked, "But why'd you do it, really?"
"Because sometimes a name change is necessary," Lucian remarked, his voice smooth yet tinged with a hint of sarcasm.
When the clock struck three in the afternoon, the first-year students found themselves gathered beside the imposing labyrinthine structure of the maze. Its towering hedges swayed gently with the breeze.
"Good afternoon, class!" came a cheerfully high-pitched voice from behind the vine-laden walls. A vampire emerged, dressed in combat attire, his high boots crunching on the gravel path. "I'm Jinxy Peru, and with me, you'll learn the art of combat in Sexton's revered tradition—The Hunt and Stake. Follow me!"
Hunt and Stake? Like humans hunting the vampires to stake them? Ruelle asked herself. The vampires were allowing them to do that? She found it rather surprising.
Ruelle immediately noted Jinxy's striking eyes, each a different hue—one a chilling blue, the other an intense red—giving him the eerie allure of a turned vampire.
The paths seemed to stretch on forever. The air in the maze was cooler, soaked with the earthy scent of leaves and dew, making Ruelle feel like she was breathing in the very essence of the place. After what felt like an endless journey through the green corridors, they emerged on the far side, leaving the twisting trails behind. Ruelle's gaze was instantly drawn to the cluster of red robes and masks—Elites.
"I have invited the Elite seniors to join us today," Mr. Jinxy announced, his voice carrying over the clearing. "They will be your guides and instructors for this class."
"If it's an invitation, can I leave?" an Elite teased, her voice dripping with audacity, drawing amused snickers from her peers.
"I'll be grading this session on your presence, so it would be wise to reconsider, young lady," Mr. Jinxy countered sharply, fixing her with a steely gaze before addressing the entire group. "Today, you'll learn the art of handling and evading stakes. Each senior will instruct two first years. Off you go!"
"Watch your neck, humans," a vampire whispered menacingly as he cracked his knuckles, narrowing his gaze at some of the Groundlings.
But amidst the tension, Hailey exhaled in relief. "Look! There's Senior Blake!" she exclaimed, gesturing to a familiar figure across the courtyard. "Let's go to her quickly!"
While Ruelle spotted the vampiress Hailey pointed out, her attention was irresistibly drawn to the figure standing next to her—Lucian. The intensity of his presence was magnetic, pulling her focus as if the world suddenly shifted to revolve around him.
Ruelle observed her fellow first-years casting furtive glances toward Lucian, their whispers swirling like leaves on a hesitant breeze. The aura of intimidation that clung to him acted as an invisible barrier, preventing anyone from daring to close the space between them. To her, he was terrifying after their last three encounters!
Ruelle and Hailey aimed their steps toward Blake, but as they neared, their path was intercepted by another senior vampire, Sawyer.
"Hello again!" Sawyer greeted, his voice light and engaging. Yet it was Ruelle upon whom his eyes settled, a playful curiosity lingering in his expression. His gaze was as deliberate as it was friendly.
"Hello," Ruelle replied, her voice carefully measured. She could feel the weight of the vampiresses' scrutiny settling over her.
"Why don't we head over there and practice?" Sawyer proposed smoothly, guiding them before either Ruelle or Hailey could approach their intended instructor. Sawyer's charisma seemed to wrap around them like a spell, gently steering them along as Blake became engrossed with another group of students.
"Let's start by gathering the stakes," he suggested, effortlessly assuming leadership with confident ease. "How are you finding your time at Sexton so far?"
Hailey, catching a note of playfulness in his question, replied with a wry smile, "Very lively." Her tone hinted at the underlying chaos of their experiences, though the subtle sarcasm sailed past Sawyer unnoticed.
He flashed a bright smile, his enthusiasm undimmed. "You'll see—this is just the beginning. Sexton's a place where you'll make many memories."
Ruelle offered a faint smile in response. She doubted a Groundling's and an Elite's experience to be the same.
Though it was only her second day at Sexton, Ruelle couldn't shake the unsettling observation that there were no humans in the final year, and it troubled her. On the other side, the instructor caught Lucian reclined on one of the nearby benches, his legs casually crossed.
"What are you doing here, Lucian?" Mr. Jinxy asked, as the seniors and juniors were supposed to be in the practice area.
"Sitting," Lucian responded with a composed air. "Unless you're counting ghosts as part of your class."
Mr. Jinxy glanced over his shoulder to confirm all students were paired up, a slight frown creasing his features as he realised the oversight. "Ah, well…"
Moments later, a guard approached quietly and murmured something in Mr. Jinxy's ear. The instructor nodded, then called out, "Sawyer! You've been summoned to the head office. Mr. Oak wants to see you."
Ruelle heard Sawyer mutter a curse under his breath before he turned to them. "I'll be back soon!" he said, then disappeared from sight. The void he left was swiftly filled by the imposing presence of Lucian, and Ruelle felt a flutter of unease settle in her stomach as he approached. W—Why was he coming this way?
"You two," Lucian's voice was smooth yet commanding, prompting both girls to straighten instinctively. His dark red eyes swept over them, settling on the stakes they each held. "Drop them."
But instead of releasing the stake, Ruelle's grip tightened around it, as if seeking courage in its weight. "Aren't we supposed to learn how to stake?" she questioned hesitantly.
Lucian studied her with a blank expression that seemed to last a lifetime.
"Hunt and Stake!" Mr. Jinxy announced loudly, pulling everyone's attention. "In the coming weeks, you'll participate in this traditional game, tasked with staking the other team. The team that takes down the most students with stakes and other weapons like arrows or blades will be declared the winner. Don't worry, the game is safe and no one will die."
Safe!? The first-years exchanged wide-eyed glances filled with disbelief.
"It's wise to start running before you learn how to dodge stakes," Lucian continued, his tone calm, belying the alarming nature of his words. "Make a round around the forest in fifteen minutes," he instructed, adding with finality, "Your time starts now."
Ruelle and Hailey quickly dropped their stakes and began to run. They sprinted through the forest, their legs moving as fast as they could manage, nimbly dodging the tree roots protruding from the earth like hidden snares. Despite their relentless pace, the minutes seemed to stretch into eternity.
"How big is this forest?" Hailey gasped, her breaths coming in ragged intervals.
Equally breathless, Ruelle could only shake her head, hair sticking to her damp forehead. "It feels like we've been running forever."
By the time they staggered back to where the other students had gathered, their vision was a blur, the world around them swimming as they blinked away perspiration.
"If you were in the real game, you'd already be dead," Lucian remarked flatly, his voice devoid of any encouragement. His eyes, piercing and cold as a winter night, settled on them with a mix of disdain and disinterest. "Go stand over there."
"The stakes?" Hailey ventured, doubt lacing her words as she glanced around.
"I'll give them to you," Lucian replied in a deadpan tone. It was clear how little he wanted to be involved in this, his expression one of evident reluctance. He seemed like a predator forced into the role of shepherd, his patience threadbare.
Ruelle and Hailey exchanged nervous glances before moving to stand where Lucian had marked two X's on the ground. As her eyes glanced around, she noticed her classmate named Kevin looking her way with concern.
Out of nowhere, Lucian snapped into motion, his arm a blur as he hurled a stake in Hailey's direction. She shrieked, instinctively ducking as the stake thudded into the ground behind her, quivering from the force of the throw.
"Learn to dodge or catch them," Lucian commanded, his voice as cutting as his calculating gaze, watching them as if appraising a pair of hapless prey caught in a hunter's trap. His demeanour made it clear: he viewed humans with as much regard as one might a mundane nuisance, tolerable only out of necessity.
It wasn't that other students had it easy, but they surely had it easier compared to how Ruelle and her friend were faring. She found herself dodging the movements of the stakes like a dance.
Before long, Hailey stumbled to the ground, her voice trembling as she pleaded, "I—I, please, I need water." When Lucian didn't so much as flinch in response, she quickly rolled to the side and darted away, her feet carrying her as fast as her desperation could propel her.
But Ruelle was determined not to retreat.
The earlier events of the morning were still fresh in her mind, spurring a newfound resolve. She steeled herself to face Lucian, even as her insides quivered with fear and anxiety. The stakes flew at her feet, her hands, and her head—a shower of impending danger that demanded her focus and agility, each near miss a taunting whisper of mortality.
"Ruelle! Do you need some water too?" Hailey called out with concern.
Lucian, who had been thrown another stake with a detached intensity, caught the name with a curious flicker in his eyes. He turned to look at the human who had called out before his eyes slowly shifted to look at the woman in front of him.
The stake, already launched in the air, continued its path toward Ruelle. As she had turned her head in response to Hailey's call, in that motion, the stake skimmed past her, slicing through the ribbon that held her hair.
'I met someone. Ruelle Marie Belmont.'
'Ruelle!'
'Also, why did you scare Hailey? The poor girl was trembling last night.'
Lucian stood still, catching the blonde hair cascade down her shoulders, each strand catching and reflecting the light as it framed her face. With her hair let down freely, she looked flustered as she attempted to retrieve her wayward ribbon. Each time she reached for the blue ribbon, the wind playfully sent it fluttering, until she abruptly halted directly in front of him, finally grabbing the ribbon.
This human he had been running into was Ruelle Belmont and this time he was certain it was her, Lucian thought.
And as if repelled by her proximity, Ruelle watched as Lucian stepped back without a word, maintaining the gap dictated by their class and station. The movement carried an air of distaste, as if her nearness was an intrusion he could barely tolerate.
Ruelle's breath hitched under the intensity of his stare. There was something unsettling in those dark red eyes—something that pinned her in place. Realising too late how close she had stood, she opened her mouth to explain when he demanded,
"What are you doing here?"
"The s—stake, you—" she stammered, the words tangling in her mind. "I mean, my ribbon, it…" Her words faltered as his eyes only seemed to narrow at her.
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