Ruelle's nerves trembled like leaves caught in a strong wind beneath the scrutiny of Lucian's intense gaze, each pass of his dark red eyes seeming to weigh her very soul. Her heart pounded within her chest as the gravity of his demanding demeanour left her thoroughly disarmed.
At the same moment, a sudden breeze swept through the woods, stirring her blonde locks, which brushed against her cheeks and fell softly across her face as she stood in front of the Elite vampire.
"What are you doing here in Sexton?" Lucian questioned, his tone sharpening by an edge she couldn't quite place.
"Attending class like everyone else," Ruelle replied, her voice small and uncertain. In that moment, she felt exposed, her carefully guarded inadequacies laid bare under his scorn. His annoyance was an unspoken accusation, echoing the clumsy moments that had earlier earned his contempt, leaving her to question every flaw she had tried to conceal. "To make a living…"
Lucian's brow furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes flickering with a flicker of something Ruelle couldn't quite decipher. For a moment, he seemed caught off-guard by her response, before his usual aloofness reasserted itself.
"Of course. What else would have brought you here?" He murmured, his voice laced with mockery.
Ruelle blinked, confused as her palms began to sweat. Wasn't that the reason everyone came to Sexton—to make a living? Yet, beneath his seemingly simple statement, his words hinted at an implication she couldn't grasp.
"What are you two doing there?" Mr. Jinxy's voice cut through the tension, his eyes narrowing at Hailey, who rested casually against the rough bark of a towering tree, and Ruelle, who appeared engrossed in a conversation with Lucian. "Both of you, follow me. We are going to the shed to fetch the weapons used for Hunt and Stake."
Ruelle didn't think twice before bolting out of there with Hailey, hot on Mr. Jinxy's trail. As they fled, she couldn't shake the sensation of eyes boring into her back, but she dared not glance back.
Over the next three days, life at Sexton resumed at its relentless pace. The peculiar classes came and went, during which Ruelle dutifully scribbled down every word the instructors uttered until her wrist ached from the constant note-taking.
During this time, a routine began to form with Hailey and Kevin, where they shared meals and discussed their unusual subjects.
Now, in the quiet dining room, which was nearly empty save for a few lingering souls, the scent of dinner hung in the air. Ruelle found herself seated at a corner table, overlooking Hailey's writing, while Kevin sat across from her. It was then when she suddenly sensed someone's eyes on her. Her heart fluttered with unease as she glanced up, bracing for that familiar, intense gaze.
But Lucian was nowhere to be seen, nor did she find anyone looking at her. She couldn't shake the way he looked at her, almost as if it haunted her. And although she was worried about running into him, she hadn't caught sight of him for the last three days.
"I think I've finally gotten it!" Kevin exclaimed with a small grin, looking up from his parchment to meet Ruelle's eyes.
"See? I told you you'd catch on quickly," Ruelle replied, a warm smile spreading across her face.
"Ruelle is a great teacher. I already feel like a distinguished lady," Hailey chimed in, stretching comfortably in her seat. "I wonder if we could ask Mr. S for some books out of pity," she sighed wistfully. "Yet we would still be far from accessing the library. I haven't earned anything yet. Every available job seems so daunting. Have you found work yet, Kevin?"
"Actually, I have to go now to clean the Elites' rooms and polish their shoes," Kevin explained, rising from his seat and gathering his belongings. "What about you, Ruelle?" he asked.
"I'm waiting for tomorrow when I return home for the weekend. I'll borrow some wool and knit sweaters or scarves to sell to the Elites," Ruelle replied with quiet determination.
Kevin nodded in understanding. "I'll see you two tomorrow morning, then. Thanks for the help, Ruelle," he said with a grateful smile before waving goodbye and heading out.
"Thank God we're allowed to visit our families. I miss my parents," Hailey said, resting her arms on the table, her eyes filled with a wistful longing. She added with a fond smile, "Last week, my father packed snacks for me to take, as if I were leaving for a month."
Ruelle's smile wavered at Hailey's words, the warmth of her friend's fond memories casting long shadows across her own heart. "That's very thoughtful of him," she responded softly.
Inside, Ruelle felt an ache. In her world, affection was rarely spoken but rather wrapped in rules and standards tied to performance. Even so, she never questioned her family's love—it was the only kind she had ever known. Deep down, she clung to the belief that their love was woven into their expectations.
As the thoughts swirled in her mind, Ruelle silently hoped that Caroline wasn't still upset with her and would understand that coming to Sexton wasn't her choice. After lingering a few moments longer in the dining room, the two friends left the dining room.
The corridors stretched before them, dimly lit and filled with an eerie silence. As Hailey and Ruelle made their way to their door rooms, their footsteps echoed softly, each sound swallowed by the encroaching darkness. Just as Hailey opened her mouth to speak, a figure suddenly lunged from the shadows, shoving her with force. She fell to the ground with a startled yelp.
Ruelle, instinctively rushing to help her friend, was abruptly thrust against the cold stone wall. The impact jolted the breath from her lungs, leaving her gasping.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Alanna's voice dripped with malice, her eyes gleaming like shards of ice in the dim glow. She loomed over Ruelle, her presence suffocating. Behind her, three Halfling lackeys stood with twisted smirks etched on their lips, their shadows flickering menacingly in the low light.
The vampiress's hand shot out, wrapping around Ruelle's neck with a vice-like grip. "How bold of you two to be walking about at this hour. Did you think I forgot?"
"You cannot attack us in the corridors!" Hailey protested, her voice trembling with defiance. One of Alanna's lackeys responded by yanking her hair viciously, making Hailey cry out, "AH!"
"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, you filthy Groundling. I've been observing you two, and you seem to not understand your place. Not an ounce of fear in your eyes," Alanna, the Elite vampiress, sneered.
"Please let us go. We just want to return to our rooms," Ruelle pleaded, her voice steady but edged with desperation.
Alanna laughed, a cold, mocking sound that echoed down the empty corridor. "You think you were too special to undress in front of the other first-year Groundlings in the forest? It's time to fix that."
"Let them do it here in the corridor, milady," suggested one of the mean girls, eager to please. "Start undressing or we'll do it for you."
"No!" Ruelle's voice reverberated through the desolate hall, but no help came. She struggled against her captors, and with a frantic movement, managed to break free. As she did, the vampiress snatched at her dress sleeve, ripping it with a harsh sound that echoed around them until it hung limply from her shoulder.
For a moment, the vampiresses stared at Ruelle in stunned silence before Alanna's laughter rang out again. "I thought you were preserving yourself for the prince with how modestly you acted, but you don't even qualify to be in the running," she mocked, eyes fixed on the scars that marred Ruelle's pale skin.
Ruelle felt exposed and vulnerable as she tried to cover herself, pressing her back against the unforgiving stone wall. Her eyes, previously defiant, now flickered with discomfort and a deep, unsettling shame.
Without another warning, Alanna tore the fabric from the other side of Ruelle's shoulder, leaving her even more exposed. Simultaneously, the other vampiress ripped the front of Hailey's dress, sending the buttons flying across the corridor.
"For someone looking like this..." Alanna's voice drawled with smug satisfaction as her eyes fell on another scar. "You're quite ambitious to set your sights on the future Duke of Ravencroft."
"I don't have my eye on the duke," Ruelle said, her voice trembling, a mixture of fear and anger rippling through her.
"That's what everyone says, but it's what they secretly want," Alanna scoffed, rolling her eyes dismissively. "To become the wife of one of the men of high status here, to rise above their station." Her words dripped with contempt as she glared at the two young women, basking in their discomfort. "Now, let us finish what we started, shall we?" she taunted. "And as repayment, we'll throw your torn clothes out for you."
Suddenly, the jingle of chains echoed through the corridor, drawing everyone's attention. The sharp click of footsteps followed, revealing a young woman with a golden mask stepping into view. She held a chain that bound a young man walking silently behind her.
"Milady!" Alanna quickly bowed her head in respect, and the Halflings followed suit, their demeanour shifting instantly.
The masked Elite surveyed the scene with a detached air. With a sigh, she remarked, "Stop ruining the corridors. It is an eyesore."
"Of course, Lady Angelina," Alanna replied swiftly, her tone submissive. She turned to the Groundlings with a sneer. "Did you not hear her? Scram from here, now!"
Seizing the unexpected opportunity, Ruelle and Hailey hurriedly gathered themselves and fled to their rooms, relief mingling with their lingering fear.
When Ruelle entered her room, she found June seated at the edge of her bed, methodically filing her nails. The room was filled with the soft scratch of the emery board, yet her roommate didn't bother to glance up at her as she walked in.
Eager to escape the weight of her gaze and conceal the evidence of her recent ordeal, Ruelle hastily grabbed her nightgown and slipped into the bathroom. There, away from prying eyes, the strain of the day began to unravel. Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill as she tried to steady her trembling hands.
As Ruelle changed her clothes, a sudden gust of wind slipped through the window, extinguishing the flickering candlelight in an instant. The room plunged into shadow, and a chill raced down her spine. With trembling fingers, she hurriedly slipped into her nightgown and rushed out of the bathroom, seeking the comfort of the light beyond.
The following day, as dawn broke, the Groundlings boarded the shared carriages, ready to journey back home for the weekend. In contrast, the Elites had their own personal carriages and coachmen waiting for them.
As Ruelle approached her home, a sense of relief washed over her. She took a deep breath, thankful that Hailey had refrained from mentioning the scars before they left Sexton.
Climbing out of the carriage, she reached the front steps of her house, the familiar creak of the wooden floor boards beneath her feet grounding her in this cherished place. She lifted her hand and lightly knocked on the door.
The door finally swung open, revealing the very person that had left those scars on her—her father.
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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