Chapter 13: Veils of Deceit

Ruelle stood at the doorstep, taking in the familiar sight of her father's stern expression.

"Back so soon?" he grunted, his voice a low, dismissive rumble that barely acknowledged her presence. His gaze, tinged with an unsaid air of disapproval, flickered towards her for only a moment before he turned and walked inside.

Her heart pinched slightly, but she stuffed the feeling down. Managing a smile, she replied, "Sexton allows us to visit our families during the weekend, Papa."

"Close the door," he said, before returning his attention to the bills clutched in his hand.

Ruelle shut the door softly. There was a familiar ache inside her, one she had learned to tuck away beneath layers of determination and resilience. On her way here, she had hoped for some sign of warmth, some gesture that she was missed. She then suddenly heard her mother and sister's raised voices greeting her ears.

"Why can't we buy the pearls? They go better with my gown!" Caroline's voice was sharp, her arms crossed defiantly as she confronted their mother.

"Because pearls are expensive, and we can't afford them right now," Mrs. Belmont's voice bore patient firmness, though a hint of exasperation slipped through. "You chose an expensive gown, and although the food and drinks are covered, we still have to host celebrations here before the big day. Not to mention, there's the maids and coachmen that we require."

Ruelle stood there in the living room like a ghost, feeling like an outsider in her own house—until Caroline's eyes lit up with recognition.

"Ruelle!" Caroline exclaimed, a bright smile illuminating her face as she rushed to embrace her sister. "When did you arrive? I missed you!"

Relief flooded through Ruelle at her sister's words, and she returned the embrace warmly. "Me too," she admitted, the tension easing from her shoulders. "I was worried you were still mad at me," she confessed.

Caroline laughed, pulling back. "Well, I was, but it seems fate had other plans for me. I would have loved my time at Sexton, and I'm a bit envious of you attending, but I'm getting married next weekend!"

"Married?" Ruelle's voice choked her surprise as her smile momentarily faltered.

"Yes, to Ezekiel Henley. He asked for my hand," Caroline stated proudly, her voice light with condescension. "Feeling jealous?"

Pausing to absorb the news, Ruelle shook her head with a genuine smile. "Of course not! I'm very happy for you. You said he seemed like an agreeable man."

"He is, isn't he?" Caroline's laughter was filled with delight. "When Mama told me, I was over the moon."

Ruelle mused silently about how swiftly things had progressed with Ezekiel Henley. They had only met him a few weeks prior, and yet, during her brief absence, he had proposed marriage to Caroline. It felt sudden, but given the circumstances—their family's precarious financial state and the mutual fondness between Caroline and Ezekiel—it seemed there was little reason to delay.

Mrs. Belmont's voice broke through her thoughts.

"It's good to have you home, Ruelle. There's much to be done, both inside and out," though a fleeting look of concern shadowed her face. "Caroline needs her sister next to her with the wedding coming up."

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of chores for Ruelle, the rhythm of her old life weaving seamlessly back into her present. She scrubbed floors, dusted surfaces, and returned the house to its modest order. In these familiar tasks, the world of Sexton felt distant, as if it were merely a dream she had once had and she was content with it.

As night descended, Ruelle found herself folding the laundry she'd washed earlier, the scent of soap still clinging to the fabric. Across the room, Caroline sat before the mirror, her brush gliding rhythmically through her hair.

"So, how is Sexton?" Caroline asked, her curiosity piqued. "Is it as big as people say?"

"The buildings are vast, and the ceilings stretch up so high," Ruelle replied. "There are Elites—the vampires. We humans are addressed as Groundlings," she added, her voice soft with the weight of her experiences.

Caroline asked nonchalantly, "And did you meet anyone there you fancy? Or someone who fancies you?" she looked at her older sister's reflection in the mirror. Ruelle shook her head. "Liar," Caroline laughed playfully.

"Actually," Ruelle countered with a small smile, "I met June Clifford. She's my roommate."

"No way!" Caroline exclaimed, spinning around on her stool with a frown of disbelief.

"Sexton is a strange place. You would be surprised."

"Yes, it sounds like a world of its own," Caroline mused, then her expression shifted, tinged with frustration. "You know what's strange? Mr. Henley and I have barely spoken since the wedding announcement. Mama says it would tarnish my reputation if we spoke too much before marriage. I've never heard of such a thing."

Ruelle smiled gently. "It's only a week, and then you'll be with him forever," she reassured.

"You're right," Caroline conceded, her face brightening. "I can't wait to marry him. It's like the more I think about him, the more I fall for him."

As Ruelle slipped out of her clothes and reached for her nightgown, her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror. Scars marred her skin, a stark reminder of past sufferings etched across her body. The children's voices from her memory echoed cruelly in her mind, taunting her with their harsh word.

'Look at those things on her. Ugly!'

These scars had been her constant companions as she grew up. Some were very old, faded into a part of her skin, while others were fresher, only two or three years past. One in particular stood out, an angry line on her shoulder. It carried her to a night during winter.

One night, snow began to swirl outside and a blizzard took hold. Little Ruelle awoke with a gasp, her heart racing against the cold grasp of the night. The chilling air nipped at her cheeks, and shadows danced mockingly across her dimly lit room, the wind outside like a lurking beast prowling around.

Fighting the fear that gripped her, she slipped out of bed, tiptoeing towards her parents' room. Her knock was soft, tentative. When the door opened, Mrs. Belmont appeared, bleary-eyed and impatient, her expression revealing the depth of her disturbance from sleep.

'What?' she muttered, her voice thick with drowsiness.

'I—I think there are monsters in my room,' the little girl whispered, her voice trembling like a fragile leaf caught in a storm.

'So?' her mother replied, barely hiding her annoyance.

'May I sleep with you and Father?' Ruelle gazed up with wide, frightened eyes, hoping to find comfort.

Mrs. Belmont sighed, her patience dwindling. 'There are no monsters, Ruelle. Caroline is sleeping with us and there's no room.'

'On the carpet, then?' Ruelle's voice was barely a whisper, her plea hanging in the air like a delicate glass on the verge of breaking.

'That would be uncomfortable for you. Find somewhere else to sleep. Goodnight,' Mrs. Belmont said sharply before closing the door.

Alone in the dark corridor, the nearby windows rattled, sending the little girl racing back to her room. But she couldn't withstand the silence. She wandered through the dim halls until she entered the servants' quarters. There, on the floor, the tired faces of the staff were scattered like fallen leaves.

Spotting her favourite maid, Ruelle dragged her blanket and settled beside the comforting presence of the sleeping maid. The maid stirred slightly but didn't wake, allowing the little girl to finally drift into an uneasy sleep.

But when morning arrived, Mr. Belmont had been reported of her behaviour.

'P—Please, Papa, no more!' the little girl pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks, her small voice echoing with desperation and hurt.

The little girl's skin burned from the angry lashes her father had delivered, a searing reminder of his displeasure. Fear coursed through her as she watched him, trembling, raise the belt again. She huddled against the wall, wrapping her arms around herself, her heart a fragile bird.

'You are a shameless girl who lacks etiquette no matter how much is taught! Or are you trying to humiliate me?!' Mr. Belmont hissed, his voice heavy with venom. Every word dripped with contempt.

"Do you know who else was invited?"

Ruelle's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Caroline's voice, pulling her back to the present as her sister chattered, as her sister was eager to share every detail of the wedding.

The following day dawned with a soft glow, filtering gently through the trees. While Caroline prepped inside, Ruelle stepped into the garden at the back of the house, relishing the quiet moment alone to collect her thoughts. She busied herself among the flowers, their vibrant colours a welcome splash against the muted tones of the morning.

As she gathered a handful of blooms, a voice suddenly cut through her solitude, startling her into dropping the petals she held. "Miss Ruelle?"

Ruelle's heart leapt briefly at the unexpected sound, her head snapping up to see who had called her name.

"Mr. Henley," Ruelle exclaimed, surprise colouring her tone as she instinctively took a step back before offering a polite bow. "I wasn't aware that you were expected."

"Good morning," Ezekiel greeted her, his gaze lingering, captivated by her presence. It was as though in his absence, she had grown even more beautiful, an elegance that seemed tangible in the morning light. "I knew you were returning home and thought I'd come to see you. It's good to see you again, Miss Ruelle."

"See me?" Ruelle wondered, slightly perplexed by his words.

Ezekiel's smile was warm, but beneath it lay an intensity that could easily be mistaken for admiration. He knew that the world would be perfect with her by his side. He continued,

"I was hoping we'd get a chance to talk, with everything that's happening soon. I wasn't sure if you'd had time to think about it, being away and all. It's all happening so fast. I know we haven't had much time together, but... it just feels right. The wedding." His earnestness hung in the air between them.

Ah, so he wanted to talk about the wedding to Caroline, Ruelle realised. Surely he must care deeply for her sister.

She returned his smile, genuine and reassuring. "I thought it was fast too, but if it feels right, then nothing is truly fast. Sometimes, things just fall into place, don't they?"

Ezekiel's confidence seemed to deepen, masking the possessive edge of his thoughts—it was as though her words confirmed a shared understanding only he perceived. "I am glad to hear you say that. I was worried at first and needed to hear it from you." He leaned slightly forward, his desire to be near her held in check only by the wary glance of a neighbour. "It means everything to me to hear you say that."

Ruelle nodded, touched by the thoughtfulness in his voice—a respect she wasn't accustomed to and wasn't sure she deserved.

"Everyone in the family is delighted and eagerly anticipating next weekend. Especially Caroline. She hasn't stopped talking about it," she shared, her voice light with affection.

"She is a lovely young lady," Ezekiel replied, though his eyes consistently returned to Ruelle, lingered a heartbeat too long. "Then it's settled. We'll see this through."

Ruelle nodded, her smile warm and sincere, knowing that her sister was in good hands. While the man in front of her was imagining her in a wedding gown.

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