บท 3: Conflict of interest
As Ruelle approached her house, anxiety twisted in her stomach at the sight of the open door. Uncertainty gnawed at her. She was not only late, but she had also failed to bring the expected money.
Nervous, she stepped inside and immediately spotted the debt collector lounging on the sofa, his feet propped carelessly on the coffee table. A surge of panic coursed through her, but it quickly gave way to relief when she saw her father.
"Elle is back home!" Caroline exclaimed, relief mingling with a nervous smile.
"Finally!" The debt collector clicked his tongue, and swung his legs off the table, rising as if he owned the space beneath the very roof that sheltered them. "Let's see how much money your measly sweaters brought in now, shall we? Bring the money forward."
Ruelle's fingers tightened around the gunny bag. When she hesitated, Mrs. Belmont furrowed her brow, her gaze shifting to the bag that looked fuller than expected. "Did you not visit the Cliffords?" she asked.
"I did…" Ruelle's voice trembled, fear crawling through her.
"Hm?" The debt collector's eyes raked over her, narrowing as they fell upon the gunny bag. "What is this?" Without waiting for a response, he snatched the bag from her grip and dumped its contents onto the floor.
Mrs. Belmont gasped, her hand clapping instinctively over her mouth as the drenched and dirty sweaters lay exposed. Caroline's mouth fell open, confused and shocked, struggling to comprehend how their efforts had unravelled so swiftly.
"What did you do, Ruelle?" Her father's voice sliced through the air, sharp and unforgiving like a bitter chill.
"I don't care what happened," the debt collector sighed in exasperation, clearly irritated by the familial drama. He turned to his henchmen with a dismissive wave. "Take everything from here and put it in the carriage. Take his daughters, too."
"NO!" Mrs. Belmont screamed, desperation reflecting in her wild eyes as she stepped protectively in front of Caroline.
"You are already planning to take everything valuable! Leave my family alone!" Mr. Belmont shouted in desperation. But the debt collector only laughed—a cold, humourless sound that reverberated through the room.
As the men began rifling through the meagre possessions, Ruelle felt the burden of guilt and responsibility pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her heart thudded wildly as despair washed over her. Just as the men prepared to step out with their meagre valuables, a tall figure blocked their path. His straight blond hair gleamed under the dim light, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.
"If you are here to collect debt, stand in line and wait your turn until we are done," the debt collector said, clicking his tongue, irritation flickering in his dark eyes.
The stranger's gaze surveyed the worried faces around him before settling on Ruelle, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. For him, everything faded, leaving only the flickering candlelight that danced over her innocence, glimmering with fear but also an undeniable spark in his heart.
Breaking his gaze from her, the stranger stepped inside, his movements fluid and deliberate. "I was wondering what the ruckus was all about." He turned to Mr. Belmont, offering a respectful bow, before turning to the debt collector. "And pray tell, how much does this gentleman owe you?"
"Six and a half silver coins," the debt collector replied, his tone dismissive and haughty. "What are you going to do knowing about it?"
The stranger's hand slipped into his pocket. He produced two gold coins, their surfaces glinting like beacons of hope amidst the despair. "I have only two gold coins, but I am hoping it will be enough for them to buy some time before the rest can be settled."
The debt collector's expression morphed, glints of greed sparking in his eyes as he snatched the coins with a triumphant smile. "Fine. You'd better be prepared for the next payment next week," he growled, turning dismissively to the Belmonts with a wave that silenced their hope.
As the debt collectors finally withdrew, the remaining family members exhaled in unison, the weight of their despair lifting—if only slightly. Ruelle turned her gaze to the stranger.
"Thank you for aiding us. My family and I are ever so grateful for your help today when you didn't have to intervene," Mr. Belmont said, his voice low, infused with gratitude while his pride hurt.
"You don't need to worry about it. It was merely by chance that I happened upon your house," the man replied, a slight smile curling his lips as he regarded Mrs. Belmont. "A person in need should always receive assistance. Isn't that what humanity is all about?"
Mrs. Belmont replied, "What you did for us has saved us all. May I know your name, young man?"
"It is Ezekiel Henley, milady," he said, bowing slightly once more. His stature and demeanour spoke of groundswell dignity, a man who bore the weight of his lineage with grace.
"I am Megan Belmont, and this is my husband, Harold Belmont. These are our daughters—Caroline and Ruelle," Mrs. Belmont introduced her family quickly.
"You were like a prince in shining armour, Mr. Henley!" Caroline blurted out, her innocence unabashed and lacking subtlety.
As Ruelle's gaze met Ezekiel's, she offered him a respectful bow, her voice steady but soft. "Thank you for helping us, Mr. Henley."
Ezekiel's interest increased; intrigue danced in his stormy gaze. "I'm just glad everything is resolved and that you can all breathe easier for now."
"Why don't you take a seat, Mr. Henley?" Mrs. Belmont insisted, as she gestured towards the chairs.
"Perhaps another time, milady." Ezekiel's voice was polite yet firm. "I am on the clock right now and have somewhere to be. But I would like to return another time." His glance met Ruelle's again, a spark of interest lighting up his expression. "I dislike seeing good folks being harassed, and it's only right that I lend my support. Excuse me." With a slight bow, he turned and made his way out the door.
With the debt collector and his men finally gone, Ruelle felt the tension in her shoulders ease, if only slightly. They were safe for at least the next week, all thanks to Ezekiel Henley's generous nature. How fortunate they were that he had come along, she thought.
"Close the door, Ruelle," her father instructed, his voice clipped as if trying to reclaim authority in a time of disturbance.
She nodded quickly, walking to the door and carefully shutting it before securing the lock with a determined click. The moment she turned back, the atmosphere shifted—a storm brewing anew.
SLAP! His hand struck her cheek, warmth blooming into a sharp sting that spread like wildfire across her senses. For a moment, her vision blurred, swept away by the force of his anger.
"How dare you ruin an entire month's efforts?" His words cut deep and sharp. He glared at her, fury radiating from him with an intensity that felt almost unreal—the heat of his rage igniting the tension in the room. "We give you one job, and you manage to ruin it! Do you think the expensive wool was just handed to us without any expense or effort?"
Ruelle's hands trembled at his words, fear constricting her throat. She swallowed hard, struggling to explain as her head hung low, the weight of his disappointment pressing against her bones. "F—Father, the ground at the market was slippery. Due to the time constraint, I was trying to reach the Cliffor—"
"And did everyone in the market slip and fall?" Mrs. Belmont interjected in annoyance. "It's always you, isn't it, Ruelle? Everything just seems to happen to you."
The sting of their words held an unbearable truth, a talon of shame piercing through her. It wasn't as if she had planned to fall, crushing their hopes with the weight of her clumsiness. She had simply sought to help her family.
"Life is hard enough, and you only make it worse!" Mrs. Belmont clicked her tongue in frustration, her gaze shifting away.
Ruelle's heart raced as she attempted to apologise, her voice quaking with the tremors of her anxiety. "I'm sorry, Mother. I didn't mean for it to happen. I tried my best to clean them all. I will have them cleaned now"
"That's enough!" her father's voice echoed through the house. "You are nothing but a disappointment. You always have been, and you continue to be, even now." His gaze bore into her. "After all, what kind of child kills their own mother," he spat, the venom of his words shattering her spirit.
Ruelle felt a chill spread through her veins, his accusation striking her like another physical blow. A wave of helplessness washed over her, with tears prickling at the corners of her eyes as she looked up at him in stunned silence. The painful truth hung heavily in the air: her biological mother had passed away right after giving birth to her, and her father had always held her responsible, convinced that she had stolen the life of his first wife.
Mr. Belmont didn't linger in the living room. He stormed off to his bedroom, Mrs. Belmont hot on his heels like his shadow, leaving Ruelle surrounded by the echo of her father's sharp words.
A tear slipped down Ruelle's cheek. She hadn't meant to disappoint her father. Despite his years of disapproval, she still harboured hope that one day, he would embrace her with open arms. Yet time and time again, the bloom of her efforts seemed to wither beneath the weight of his judgement. If only she had been careful, this wouldn't have happened.
"Elle!" Caroline rushed to Ruelle's side, concern lacing her voice. "Are you alright? Don't pay attention to Papa's words. He didn't mean it."
If it had been the first time, perhaps it wouldn't have hurt so much, but this was a pain woven into the fabric of her being, stitched into her since her childhood. Her father's ire had always been directed at her.
Ruelle nodded at her sister's words, a smile struggling to form but slipping away. She looked down, avoiding Caroline's gaze. "I'm okay. Father has been under a lot of stress, and it's my fault for ruining the sweaters."
Caroline wrapped her arms around her, her voice soft and warm. "I was so worried when you didn't return within the hour."
Ruelle placed her hands over Caroline's. "Everything is fine now. We just need to wash the mud stains and sell the sweaters. They'll be as good as new."
As they returned to their shared room, Ruelle began tying her hair into a messy bun when she heard Caroline speak.
"Was there so much mud on the ground? If they had been picked up sooner, maybe they wouldn't have had time to soak in so deeply, don't you think?" Caroline inspected one of the sweaters, which now looked dirtier on the inside than on the outside.
Ruelle stuck a stick into her hair to keep it in place and muttered, "It is all because of him."
"What do you mean?" her sister inquired.
Ruelle iterated on what had occurred at the market and ended with, "It's all because of him. All vampires are the same—arrogant and rude." She huffed, her lips twisting into a frown. She then said, "Had he not stopped me, the damage wouldn't have been this bad."
She couldn't shake the memory of encountering that stranger—the vampire who had loomed over her like a dark shadow. He had made her feel so small and insignificant under his dark red eyes. He looked like he was ready to end her, she thought, a chill running down her spine.
Vampires rarely ventured into human towns, which made her question the purpose of the vials and the reason for his visit.
"Why am I even thinking about this?" she muttered under her breath, shaking her head to dispel the lingering thought. She hoped not to run into him again.
"Thank God for Mr. Ezekiel! I can't imagine what would have happened if he hadn't walked by," Caroline said, her voice filled with gratitude. "Not to mention, he is handsome."
Ruelle had barely noted the man's appearance, fixated instead on the kindness he had shown. "We must repay him," she replied. "I'll wash these sweaters and find another buyer for them."
Within a week, Ruelle had not only found a buyer for the sweaters, but she had also earned more coins than Mrs. Clifford had initially offered.
On a sun-drenched afternoon, when the world felt vibrantly alive with possibility, Mr. Henley arrived at their doorstep. Her mother and Caroline had ventured out to procure more wool, leaving Ruelle alone in their home.
"What is this, Miss Belmont?" Mr. Henley asked, a look of mild surprise crossing his handsome features.
"One gold coin and two silver coins, Mr. Henley. It isn't the full amount you paid to the debt collectors on our behalf, but I felt it was only right to return a portion to you now that we are in a position to do so," Ruelle said, holding out the coins.
Mr. Henley's gaze shifted from her hand to her face. "Please hold on to them until you and your family are in a comfortable position. The debt collector might return soon, won't he?" he replied, his tone gentle yet firm. "Perhaps you should consider giving it to them instead. I'm in no hurry to be repaid."
Ruelle stared at the gentleman before her, hesitating as she lowered her hand for a moment. Gathering her resolve, she pulled out the two silver coins. "My family and I would feel terrible if we couldn't repay you anything at all. Please, Mr. Henley," she implored, a plea woven with gratitude.
The man's expression shifted, a flicker of conflict crossing his features as he regarded her. With a reluctant sigh, he accepted the coins from her hand. "Thank you," he murmured.
In gratitude, Ruelle offered Ezekiel a cup of tea, and as they chatted, she started to understand why he had helped her family the evening before. He told her that he came from a humble background, where his own family had also struggled with debt collectors, just like hers. It was rare to see someone as striking as him show such genuine kindness, and she felt a deep sense of respect for him.
When Mrs. Belmont and Caroline returned home, Ruelle and her sister went into their room to sort the wool, leaving Ezekiel alone with their mother. During their conversation, Ezekiel said,
"Mrs. Belmont, if I may be so bold, I would like to offer my assistance to you and your family." Mrs. Belmont's brow arched in both intrigue and surprise. He paused before saying, "I would like to ask for your daughter, Ruelle's, hand in marriage."
However, a conflict of interest loomed, as Mrs. Belmont had been eyeing Ezekiel Henley as a prospective match for Caroline, hoping to secure a better future for her daughter.
บท 4: Invitation to attend the privileged
One morning, as the dawn light spilt softly across the small kitchen, Ruelle stood at the table, setting the breakfast for her family. The air was thick with the aroma of freshly baked bread, when her sister Caroline burst into the kitchen, breathless.
"Mama! You cannot believe what I just found out!"
Mrs. Belmont closed her eyes. Ruelle caught sight of Caroline holding a parchment, waving it like a flag of victory. Curious, she asked, "What do you have there?"
"This is everything anyone is talking about in the village right now!" Caroline exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she thrust the parchment into Ruelle's hands. "The institution where vampires and select humans study has changed its rules! They are now going to allow one young man or woman from each family, between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, to join. Sexton is opening its doors to all families!"
Sexton.
The establishment had been founded two hundred years ago, during the era when vampires expanded their dominion, conquering vast lands that had once belonged to humans. Word had it that vampires from high-ranking families were sent there to hone their skills in various disciplines.
It was no secret that the establishment evoked a mix of curiosity and envy among humans. Even suspicion. Because the humans excluded from its doors could only speculate what went inside its privileged walls. Even the humans who did attend Sexton never revealed what went on inside.
But one thing was for sure: the humans who did attend Sexton often ended up working directly for the vampires, earning them a higher position and status than those enjoyed by the regular humans.
Ruelle's eyes skimmed across the words written and sealed on the parchment. "Where did you get this?" She couldn't help but wonder why the sudden change had been made and if there was a hidden agenda behind it.
"The men from the capital arrived this morning! They've been spreading the word all over town, " Caroline replied, unable to contain her excitement. She then turned to their mother, her eyes wide with hope. "Mama, please! I need you to sign my name on this so that I can attend! The registration ends by next weekend, and needs to be mailed in by then!"
"Let me see," Mrs. Belmont said, her tone suddenly serious as she reached for the parchment. Ruelle quickly handed it over.
"How wonderful would that be?" Caroline turned to Ruelle, her eyes sparkling with the dreams of possibility. "Just think of the opportunities!"
"Are you sure about this?" Ruelle asked, a gentle warning lacing her words. This wasn't just any school; it was a sanctuary for vampires, where danger often lurked beneath the surface, cloaked in elegance and charm. Those creatures were not only dangerous but also known for their cruelty.
"I am," Caroline replied with fervent determination. "Everyone knows that attending Sexton is a guaranteed pathway to elevating one's status. I thought it wouldn't be something you'd want for yourself, so I'll be more than happy to apply. Right, Mother?"
Mrs. Belmont stared at the inked words on the parchment for a moment before smiling and saying, "I will discuss it with your father."
"Thank you, Mama! You are the best!" Caroline exclaimed. ecstatic in the response, unaware that her mother had no plans of sending her anywhere near Sexton and had other plans in mind.
In the following days, the town buzzed with gossip and excitement over Sexton's announcement of accepting new students.
Families found themselves grappling with mixed emotions. Some viewed this as a promising opportunity for their children, a chance to rise above their current circumstances, while others recoiled at the thought of sending their precious ones to a school filled with bloodsucking creatures who ruled over them.
The whispers grew louder, echoing from one household to another, until fear settled. Despite the appeal of potential advancement, only a handful of families dared to send their children, oblivious to the fate that awaited each of them beyond the walls of Sexton's hallowed halls.
One afternoon, as Ruelle made her way home from the market, her mind was preoccupied with worry about whether her parents would grant Caroline permission to attend Sexton. Today was the last day to submit her name for enrollment, and the mere idea of her sister navigating a world filled with vampires triggered a surge of worry through her. But she also knew how much Caroline looked forward to going, which was one reason Ruelle had kept her concerns to herself.
"Miss Ruelle!"
Startled from her thoughts, Ruelle turned to see Ezekiel approaching, his warm smile cutting through the gloom like sunlight breaking through heavy clouds. "What a fortunate coincidence to run into you. Are you heading home?"
"Yes, I am," Ruelle replied, her spirits lifting at the sight of him. She returned his smile. "What brings you to the village today?"
"I was here to meet someone—nothing urgent," he said, adjusting the satchel slung over his shoulder. She caught the soft clink of glass from within it. "I had hoped to visit your family sooner, but work kept me tied up. Have you been doing well? Let me walk you home."
"I have, Mr. Henley. My family is doing well too, and it's all thanks to you," Ruelle responded as they began walking side by side toward her house. "How about yourself?"
"Same here," Ezekiel replied, watching her intently for a moment before continuing. "I've been swamped with work—my employer has been wanting me to put in overtime, and the travel has been relentless."
"That sounds tough," she said sympathetically. "If you ever need a change of pace, perhaps you could join our family business. It's small at the moment, but one day it will flourish, and we could certainly use an extra pair of hands."
Ezekiel smiled. "That sounds like a plan. We could become family then, transitioning from friends to something even more significant." His words caught Ruelle off guard, and she stared at him, puzzled. "We are friends now, right?"
"Ah, yes," Ruelle murmured, feeling her cheeks warm at his implication. Was she imagining it? Just then, she heard him ask, "Did your mother say something about me to you, Miss Ruelle?"
"That you're our saviour," came her lighthearted reply, which made the moment feel less charged, though his gaze remained steady on her. "Everyone has been busy since the news arrived from Sexton."
"Sexton?" Ezekiel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Haven't you heard? The institution is now accepting one young lady or young man from each family for admission." Ruelle said, her brow arching in surprise. "Caroline has been eager to apply."
Ezekiel's expression darkened slightly at the mention of Sexton. After a moment, he replied, "I need to be honest with you. I don't think it's a good idea for anyone to attend that place—especially not for your family. You're good folks, Ruelle. Those who go there often become entangled in the darker aspects of vampire society, and I fear it could lead to disaster."
As they stopped just before her house, an unspoken tension hung in the air, wrapping around them like morning mist. Ruelle took a breath, pondering his warning. "I thought it could be like that," she admitted quietly.
Ezekiel nodded, his gaze steady and earnest. He surprised her by reaching out and gently taking her hand in his. "I only mean well for you and your family, Miss Ruelle. I truly hope you can discuss my concerns with them before any decisions are made." He released her hand, and stepped back slightly. "I should go now. I'll see you next week then."
Ruelle managed a smile, watching the man leave before she stepped inside her house. This exchange did not go unnoticed by their neighbour, Mrs. Finch. As Mrs. Belmont stepped outside briefly to inspect the outer walls of her house, which needed repainting, Mrs. Finch took the opportunity to approach.
"Good afternoon, Mrs Belmont," she began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity."It seems you have finally decided to send one of your daughters away," Mrs. Finch remarked, her tone teasing but laced with assumptive air.
Mrs. Belmont turned to face her neighbour, a frown creasing her brow. "I haven't made any decisions about sending Caroline to Sexton yet," she replied, her voice steady but with a hint of tension beneath the surface.
Mrs. Finch chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with delight. "Oh, I'm not talking about that at all. I meant Ruelle's marriage to the young man! He is handsome and holds a decent position in society, does he not?" Her laughter carried a note of glee, clearly pleased by the thought. "He certainly seems to be quite taken with her, doesn't he?"
Mrs. Belmont fell silent, the weight of Mrs. Finch's words settled heavily in her mind. It seemed like it was time that a decision needed to be made, thought the woman to herself.
Before nightfall, Mrs. Belmont carefully filled out the application that accompanied the parchment for Sexton.
Caroline, who had eagerly delivered the letter to the postman's house, was practically floating on cloud nine the next morning. As she settled at the dining table, her excitement bubbled over.
"Now that I'm going to attend Sexton, I will need new clothes! And don't forget about shoes!" she gushed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "It's wonderful that the academy allows students to visit their families on weekends—this way, I won't be homesick at all!"
Ruelle wanted to be happy for Caroline, but worry etched her features. Their family was already struggling with debt, and additional expenses for her sister's clothing and shoes would only add to their burdens, even without their existing financial struggles. As Caroline naively detailed her elaborate plans for what she would wear on her first day and how she envisioned life at the academy, continuing to ramble, she said, "There will be shared dormitory rooms, but I'll find out the details only once I arrive. Not to mention—"
"You won't be needing any new clothes or shoes," Mrs. Belmont interjected, placing her fork down beside her plate with finality.
Caroline frowned, caught off guard. "I was just thinking—"
"You aren't going to visit Sexton," Mrs. Belmont cut her off sharply.
Ruelle's eyebrows subtly rose in surprise as she processed her mother's words. She could hear Caroline's incredulous voice ask, "What do you mean? We delivered the application letter you wrote to them yesterday."
Their father, who had just finished his breakfast, spoke with a sombre tone, "Caroline, it will not be you who will attend Sexton." As the realisation began to dawn on the sisters— one's expression filled with shock, while the other one turned pale in horror.
A heavy silence fell over the Belmont Family dining room, as disbelief etched across the two daughters' faces.
Suddenly, Ruelle erupted into laughter, unable to contain her amusement at the absurdity of the news—surely, she must have misheard. She glanced between her parents, and as their serious expressions began to sink in, her laughter faltered, replaced by a gnawing concern.
"You can't be serious…" Ruelle uttered, her voice wavering.
"What?!" Caroline's voice pierced through the silence, filled with disbelief. Their parents' decision felt like a bucket of icy water doused over her dreams. Turning to her mother, she murmured, "You didn't write my name on that letter…?!"
But it was Mr. Belmont who was first to respond, directing his attention to his youngest daughter. "Ruelle is the eldest of you two. Your mother and I decided it would be best for her to attend. She deserves this opportunity." His words, though authoritative, were clearly influenced by his wife.
No… Ruelle whispered in her mind. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't supposed to be this way.
"Did you tell them you wanted to go?" Caroline turned her hurt gaze towards Ruelle, her blue eyes beginning to cloud with betrayal.
Ruelle shook her head resolutely. "I don't want to attend Sexton."
"It isn't up for discussion," Mrs. Belmont interjected firmly. "We are in need of money, and having one of you attend Sexton would benefit us all."
"I can be the one to do that!" Caroline shouted, leaping to her feet and slamming her hand against her chest for emphasis. "Why are you sending her? I'm the one who's most suited for it! I even said I wanted to go! Why are you doing this?!"
"Like your father already mentioned, Ruelle is the oldest, Caroline." Mrs. Belmont said, maintaining her calm demeanour despite the rising tension. "You have other responsibilities to tend to that are more pressing than your sister's."
"NO! I do not accept this!" Caroline's voice cracked with raw anger, the unexpected shift in events shattering her dreams. "Change the name right this instant!" When her parents continued to be unresponsive, she clenched her teeth in frustration.
Turning to Ruelle, their father's voice was commanding and devoid of hesitation. "You will be leaving for Sexton in two days. Make sure your trunks are packed."
Caroline's face flushed with fury, and she stomped out of the dining room, slamming the door so hard that its echo reverberated through the house. The resounding bang snapped Ruelle out of her trance, and she looked at her parents, who quickly diverted the conversation towards the shop, as if to distract from the upheaval that just unfolded.
"Father?" Ruelle ventured, a mix of determination and dread settling in her stomach. "If I leave, who will help with the sweaters? Caroline is still learning, and she's not adept at it yet."
"There's no need to worry about that," Mrs. Belmont reassured her, her voice steady. "Caroline has received a marriage proposal, so she'll be unavailable to assist. As for you, no one has come forward to ask for your hand until now. Besides, Sexton provides a compensation to families to help cover the enrollment costs, which should ease our expenses."
"What if I don't want to go?" Ruelle asked, the weight of her question hanging heavily in the air as her mother turned to look at her with a blank expression.
"Not go? Don't you want to make your father proud, dear?" Mrs. Belmont replied sharply. She placed a hand over Ruelle's, a gesture meant to convey encouragement but feeling more like a shackle.
Her mother's warm gesture almost swayed Ruelle, but the thought of attending a place with vampires, where her very neck would be at their mercy, loomed large. It felt as though a significant decision had been made without her consent, leaving her feeling powerless and trapped.
When Ruelle returned to her room, she found Caroline sprawled across the bed, lying facedown and deliberately turning away from her.
"Caroline?" Ruelle called gently, her voice soft with concern. But her sister remained silent, and an unspoken tension filled the air between them. Ruelle sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the weight of disappointment and frustration settle over her like a dark cloud.
"It's unfair, Elle. It has always been like this." Caroline's voice was thick with frustration, her disappointment evident. Ruelle's eyebrows furrowed as she waited for her sister to articulate her feelings. "Everyone always chooses you. Always, and I'm the one who gets left behind."
Ruelle pursed her lips, trying to quell the storm of emotions brewing inside her. "I'm being forced to go, not by my choice. And when have you ever been left behind?" She had always been there for Caroline whenever she needed her, supporting her through every challenge.
Caroline sat up abruptly, her face flushed and eyes blazing with anger. "Every single time! People always notice you first because you're prettier than me! You walk into a room, and all the attention goes to you. I'm just… invisible. They want to talk to you, to give you things. I thought this was my moment, my chance to shine, but you had to steal that too…" Her voice faded to a whisper, filled with pain and defeat.
Ruelle's heart ached at her sister's outcry, and she replied, "Caroline, that's not how it is. I would never take anything from you!"
"But it feels like that!" Caroline shot back, her face a mask of hurt and anger. "It's always been about you. I just wanted to be noticed, even once! It's like no one pays attention to me at all! People only care about what's on the outside, not what's inside. But you wouldn't understand that feeling. You wouldn't know how it feels to be neglected…"
"You don't know that," Ruelle whispered, not expecting to hear those words from her sister. "You are the fortunate one, Caroline. You don't understand how—"
"I'm tired and want to be left alone," Caroline interrupted coldly, turning away to lay back down on the bed, her back facing Ruelle.
Five days passed, and Ezekiel Henley found himself outside the Belmont residence once more. Spotting Caroline tending to the small garden, he approached with a pleasant smile.
"Lady Caroline, good morning to you. Is your father at home?" Although he asked the question with courtesy, his eyes subtly darted around, searching for any sign of Ruelle.
"Good morning, Mr. Henley," Caroline replied, her expression brightening at the sight of him. "If you're here to speak to Papa, he'll be back with Mama in about an hour."
"Oh? Where have they gone?" Ezekiel inquired.
A bitter smile tugged at Caroline's lips, unable to mask her emotions as she replied, "To send Ruelle off to Sexton. She must have already arrived."
The smile on Ezekiel's face fell in shock. He had hoped to keep the Belmonts away from Sexton, but the thought of Ruelle becoming one of its students filled him with dread. This was the first time he had fallen in love, and he wasn't about to let anything come between them.
But what Ezekiel wasn't aware of was that Ruelle's fate had been sealed long before, and it was now poised to unfold within the walls of Sexton.
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