Chapter 44: Clearance of assumption
Lucian let out a faint sigh, the tension in his stance easing only slightly as he adjusted his cloak with a swift, practiced movement. His eyes remained fixed on Ruelle, his gaze sharp and assessing, as if quietly taking inventory of her dishevelled state.
"Wear your shoes," he instructed, his voice quiet but firm. "Let’s get back. Blake and your friend are still searching for you."
Ruelle blinked, momentarily disoriented, before glancing towards the door where her shoes lay haphazardly on the floor. She bent down to pick them up, while noticing how his gaze never wavered. When she glanced back at him, his expression remained unreadable, a hint of scrutiny lingering in his eyes. He didn’t move.
"Is... something wrong?" she asked hesitantly, feeling a shiver run down her spine under his unyielding stare.
But Lucian didn’t respond. His gaze lingered, drifting slowly downward. She followed it and froze, realising with a start that the top buttons of her blouse had come undone. A deep blush crept up her cheeks as she hurriedly fumbled to fasten them, her fingers trembling slightly from both the cold and residual fear.
"Sorry, I didn’t—" she began, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn’t know when that happened." Her words faltered as she avoided his gaze, focusing instead on steadying her own shaky hands. She couldn’t help but feel vulnerable in front of him, but she kept her head down.
She glanced up again, catching Lucian’s gaze briefly before he looked down to her bare feet with a slight, almost faint crease of disapproval between his eyebrows.
"Your shoes. Wear them properly," he muttered, his voice low. "Sexton isn’t a place where one can wander barefoot. Especially a Groundling."
Why not? The floors were always sparkling clean. Ruelle hesitated, feeling her embarrassment deepen, before nodding and sliding her feet into her shoes, still fumbling with the buckles in her nervousness. "I can walk just fine," she murmured, attempting a note of independence.