Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Once Ruelle arrived at the Slaters' mansion with others, Edward was led away to his room by Maude, while she and Lucian paid a visit to her stepmother and Caroline. Her stepmother looked no better than she did this morning, while Caroline looked like she could finally walk without throwing up.

Returning to their room, Ruelle removed the black dress she had worn to the funeral. Pulling a fresh dress over her shoulders, she sat down before the mirror.

The room was peaceful as if she hadn't returned from burying a man.

Sitting in front of the mirror, she lifted the hairbrush almost absentmindedly.

One slow stroke and then another. She paused midway through brushing her hair when she remembered what Carnifex said about Lia. Sylvan could have easily pushed Lia as Ruelle and no one would have known…

The quiet sound of footsteps behind her gently pulled her away from the thought and she looked up to find Lucian standing behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror and he said, "Allow me."

Before she could answer, he took the brush from her hand.

"Did Carnifex say something to upset you?" He asked as she watched his reflection. His hand gathered a section of her hair carefully, almost as though afraid of pulling it, before drawing the brush through it in one smooth stroke.

"No… he didn't say anything like that," Ruelle replied, slightly embarrassed that he brushed her hair far more gently than she ever did herself. She said, "It felt like he wants to make amends… or maybe I am just reading into it."

"Do you want him to make amends?" Lucian asked. The soft sound of bristles passing through her hair filled the room and she found it soothing.

"Are you going to… knock him out too if he doesn't want to?" Ruelle teased him and she saw the smile ghost on his lips.

"I can if that is what you want." Upon Lucian's answer, she shook her head. She saw a small smile appear on his lips. "Let me know when you want to visit him and I will send a word."

"Alright," Ruelle's words were quiet.

Her eyes wandered back to the mirror almost on their own.

Lucian's attention remained entirely on what he was doing. His expression hadn't changed. There was something comforting about watching someone so composed perform something so ordinary with such care.

"You have changed me out of my clothes. Now brushed my hair," Ruelle acknowledged it out loud. "I want to do it too," came her earnest words.

"Ruelle."

Just hearing her name in his voice made something quietly flutter beneath her ribs. She noticed him looking at her through the mirror.

"Hm?"

"I want to take you somewhere."

"...okay," the answer escaped from her lips without much thought.

When he finally placed the brush back upon the vanity, he reached for her coat hanging nearby. She instinctively raised her arms, allowing him to help her into it. His fingers adjusted the collar before wrapping the scarf loosely around her neck, making sure it covered her properly against the cold.

When they stepped outside the mansion, instead of walking towards the waiting carriages, Lucian led her through the gardens where the winter flowers swayed gently from the breeze.

She realised they weren't leaving the estate.

It was an unusual hour to take a walk.

The afternoon had long slipped into evening, the last traces of sunlight filtering through the bare branches while the air carried the crisp bite of winter. Their footsteps crunched softly against the path.

"I visited my stepmother," she said, her voice sounding softer against the crunch their shoes made against the path. "She asked whether Aunt Imogen had come to see her after the funeral."

The truth was that the woman hadn't been informed. It had been a private moment with how the body had turned out to be.

Ruelle remembered her stepmother and Caroline's confusion after seeing the scars back on her. Neither of them had questioned her directly, yet she had noticed the hesitation in their eyes and the confirmation had later come from Lucian.

"Imogen has been placed under arrest. Her house carried ingredients commonly used by witches and with Harold's death, it was easier," Lucian's calm voice drew her attention back to the present.

Last night in the bed, Lucian had asked her if her aunt had witnessed her being beaten. And her silence was all he needed as confirmation.

His hand found hers almost naturally. His fingers intertwined with hers so effortlessly that she barely noticed the moment it happened. He continued,

"Arrangements have already been made for Mrs. Belmont and Caroline to relocate farther south once they're well enough to travel. That is if they both behave."

Finding out she was never part of the Belmonts' family, neither by blood nor by attachment, made it easier to let things go for good. Lucian had broken her father's hands and then killed him, while he continued to stay civil with her stepmother. She wondered if it was because the subject in question was a woman.

When they finally came to a stop, Ruelle realised where Lucian had brought her.

Before them stood a black marble headstone, polished so carefully that even beneath the fading light its surface reflected the silhouettes of the surrounding trees.

Irina Slater, the engraving read.

A single red rose rested against the stone, fresh enough that tiny droplets of water still clung to its petals. A sign that someone had been here earlier.

Lucian walked towards the grave without another word. The wind moved quietly through the trees overhead, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and winter leaves, while the red rose resting against the black marble swayed gently before becoming still again.

He stopped before the headstone, his gaze lingering on the engraved name for so long that Ruelle found herself looking at it too. He lowered himself onto one knee and his fingertips rested lightly against the cold marble as though greeting his mother, who had been waiting for him.

"When you chose her, I thought you were wrong..." Lucian's thumb moved absently across the edge of the stone before becoming still again. "I thought if she had never entered this family, none of it would have happened."

The words were spoken without bitterness. Almost as though enough years had passed that he could finally admit them.

Ruelle lowered her eyes as she knew what he meant and why.

"When I buried you, I regretted it all," Lucian's voice grew softer and the words left an ache in her chest.

She found herself watching his profile rather than the grave. The slight tension along his jaw. Yet somehow that quiet restraint made the grief feel even older, like something that had long ago become part of him.

"But it was never anyone's fault."

A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting that had she looked away for even a second she might have missed it altogether. He continued,

"You saw something in her before any of us did and I understand it now. You gave me someone worth coming home to. I think you would have liked the woman Ruelle has become. You looked forward to her becoming part of this family and I came because I thought you should hear it from me," a quiet exhale escaped him.

Ruelle felt her breath catch as warmth began to gather behind her eyes.

He drew a slow breath and he said, "I am going to marry her." His eyes never left the gravestone. "And I would like to have your blessings."

Ruelle slowly lowered herself beside him before her knees came to rest on the cold ground that she barely noticed. Her hands folded neatly together in her lap.

For a moment, guilt rose quietly before she gently pushed it back down and her lips parted to speak,

"Lady Irina... I visited my memories from the time here and you were kind to me. So kind that I feel guilty for not being able to thank you for it. I've met many people since then. But whenever I think about what a family should feel like..." her eyes drifted almost unconsciously towards Lucian beside her, "...I always end up thinking about yours."

Warmth quietly spread through her chest. The woman had made a space for her in this place, so strong that Ruelle doubted she would ever fit anywhere else.

"Thank you..." Ruelle bowed her head "...for giving the world people like Lucian. And Lord Azriel. And Brother Dane. And Maude. They've given me more kindness than I ever thought I deserved."

She drew a slow breath.

"I'll treasure the family you left behind as long as they'll have me..."

When Ruelle straightened her back, her eyes lingered on the engraved name. She had spent so many years feeling ashamed of being Harold Belmont's daughter that she had almost forgotten another truth.

She had also once been loved by Lady Irina. Not because she had done anything remarkable or because she belonged to an important family. Simply because she had been Ruelle.

The wind stirred the branches above them.

When Lucian lifted his head, his eyes wandered slowly across the clearing.

Ruelle followed his gaze. At first she thought he was simply looking around, but then she heard the quiet crack.

The ice covering the ground began to give way and soon it turned into thin streams of water while the frost clinging to the branches dissolved into clear droplets that fell one after another, their gentle rhythm echoing through the quiet forest.

She watched Lucian's ability spread through the clearing, changing the season as naturally as breathing.

The cold that had lingered around Lady Irina's grave softened until the earth seemed ready to wake again.

A small smile found its way onto her lips. She crouched beside the grave and rested her fingertips against the damp soil.

Tender shoots pushed through the earth beneath her palm. Grass spread quietly over the once barren ground while nearby branches trembled as fresh leaves unfurled around them. Tiny white blossoms appeared amongst them, their petals opening one after another until colour slowly returned to the clearing.

The place that had looked asleep only moments ago now seemed alive again. Ruelle looked around quietly. Lucian's winter and her spring.

It was when she turned that she noticed a sapphire ring resting between his gloved fingers. For a heartbeat she simply stared, unable to move, before her eyes slowly lifted to meet his.

There was no uncertainty in Lucian's expression.

"This ring, my mother prepared it for my bride who would one day become part of this family," his hand reached for hers and his fingers enclosed hers with familiar warmth before giving the gentlest squeeze. "I cannot promise there won't be difficult days. But I can promise this that you will never have to face them alone."

The wind stirred softly around them, carrying the scent of damp earth and fresh blossoms through the clearing now.

"Ruelle..." Just hearing her name in his voice made her heart tighten. "Will you marry me?"

Ruelle nodded before her answer spilled out of her lips. "Yes."

She laughed softly through the tears gathering in her eyes, embarrassed that she couldn't seem to stop them. "Yes, I will marry you," and before she knew it, she threw her hands around Lucian's neck only to be pulled even closer into his arms.

When she pulled away, Lucian pushed the ring on her finger.

They were already promised to one another, and yet hearing the words spoken aloud felt entirely different. It was as though everything that had existed only in her heart had finally become real.

Her gaze lingered on Lady Irina's name. If she could find the rest of the mirror, Lady Irina and Lucian could see each other once more. The thought alone warmed her heart and she couldn't imagine a greater gift for him.