Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

When it was time to leave the Elder Minister's mansion, they gathered beside the waiting carriage. Carnifex informed them,

"I'll see what else I can find about the Mirror Portal. Until then, it would be best not to let word of the fragment spread. There are people who would go to great lengths to find something like that."

Ruelle nodded. "I won't." She was about to turn towards the carriage when Carnifex called her name.

"Ruelle," just when she turned, Carnifex stepped forward and hugged her. For a heartbeat, she was rigid. Not out of discomfort, but because she didn't know how to be held by this man.

When Carnifex released her, Ruelle's hands remained awkwardly at her sides for a moment. There was something in his expression that made her think he wanted to say more, but whatever the words were, they never came to his lips.

They climbed inside the carriage finally and left the mansion behind. Ruelle now leaned back against the seat, the tension in her shoulders eased with every mile away from the mansion. Turning to Lucian, she asked,

"Could we head to see the seamstress? I need to give him something to sew into the wedding gown."

Lucian knocked twice on the carriage wall. "Head to Noah's shop," he ordered.

"Yes, Master Lucian," Claude's voice came from outside, followed by the flick of reins and the clatter of hooves against cobblestone.

As her fingers traced idle patterns against the fabric of her skirt, she said, "Lady Amelia was surprisingly nice."

"She's known to be an amiable lady in society." After a pause, he asked, "Were you worried she was going to chew you out?"

A small, reluctant smile tugged at Ruelle's lips. She had prepared herself for her father's wife to treat her with indifference, perhaps even quiet resentment. Instead, Lady Amelia had been surprisingly thoughtful.

"Carnifex and his wife have maintained neutrality for years. It's why the lands haven't tipped into chaos. And Lady Amelia was my mother's friend," Lucian let her know. At this, her eyebrows rose in surprise, while he continued, "When my mother left the castle she went to live with my aunt—Maxine's mother. Lady Amelia's family were their neighbours."

"It feels like a small world," Ruelle murmured as everyone seemed to know someone.

The steady rattle of carriage wheels filled the silence as they travelled, accompanied by the sound of horses' hooves against the road. She was watching the streets blur past the window when Lucian spoke again.

"I know you prefer dealing with things yourself rather than letting anyone know you're in trouble," his dark red eyes were fixed on her when she turned to look at him. "But before you start experimenting, I want you to know which kinds take from you. And which don't."

She immediately understood that this was about what Carnifex had explained about her mother exhausting her life force. Wanting to ease whatever worry had taken root in his mind, Ruelle reached for his hand. She replied,

"I'll be careful. I won't do anything that puts me in danger."

Lucian's fingers closed around hers. "I mean it, Ruelle." The intensity with which he looked at her made her smile fade. He continued, "Many witches don't live past thirty."

Ruelle's eyebrows drew together. She replied, "I don't think that's true. The witch I met in Aunt Imogen's town must have been fifty or sixty."

"And do you know what she did to live that long?" Ruelle fell quiet. He asked, "Would you be willing to sacrifice other people's lives if it meant extending your own? Because I wouldn't object if you did."

There wasn't even the slightest hesitation in his expression. Ruelle searched his face, half expecting something there to soften the meaning of his words. If the choice were between her life and that of a stranger, Lucian already knew whose he would choose.

Ruelle swallowed. "I... no. I couldn't do that."

Lucian's eyes dropped to their joined hands. His thumb traced the line of her knuckles, slow and deliberate, as if memorising the shape of them. He replied,

"Then don't touch magic that requires something you aren't willing to give. Magic doesn't create something from nothing. If you force the world to give you what it wouldn't naturally give, it takes something in return."

The thought of her mother's slow decline settled in Ruelle's chest like a stone. A future already rewritten before she'd even drawn her first breath. Her fingers twitched against Lucian's, the pressure of his grip a silent, unyielding anchor.

"I'll learn before I use anything," she said, voice steady.

Lucian didn't move but the fingers around hers finally eased, just enough for her to realize how tightly he'd been holding her. Not painfully. Not even possessively. Just… inescapably. As though some part of him feared she might disappear if he loosened his hold.

The realisation sent a strange, warm pulse through her veins.

"Perhaps the witch I borrowed the books from might know something about it," she offered, forcing her voice lighter. "She was helpful last time. I could take Hailey with me—"

"Why?"

Ruelle turned toward him. Lucian's dark red eyes were fixed on her, unreadable as ever, but the space between them had shrunk. When had he leaned in? Her gaze flickered, traitorous, from his eyes to the cruel curve of his mouth.

Just for a second. Just long enough to forget what she'd been saying.

"Why Hailey?" he repeated, slower this time.

Oh, that was what he'd asked, Ruelle realised. A laugh bubbled up in her throat, nervous and bright.

"I thought you'd be busy," she replied before she could stop them. "You've had so much to take care of lately. I didn't want to trouble you." She amended, "We could go together."

A quiet hum of approval left Lucian, and then he finally leaned back.

Ruelle turned to the carriage window so fast it should've been comical. Her eyelids fluttered shut. When she opened them again, the world outside was a blur of green. Her gaze flicked to the window's dim reflection—her own face, flushed and wide-eyed and then to him.

Lucian was devastating. Even in the dim carriage, with little more than pale daylight catching the sharp planes of his face and the way his black strands of hair wavered, Ruelle found it difficult to look at him for too long without becoming painfully aware of herself.

She didn't realise her fingers had tightened around his until his grip firmed in response.

Lucian's fingers gently closed around hers before he brought it to his lips. He kissed the back of her hand tender enough to make Ruelle's heart flutter as though it had suddenly grown wings.

"What's occupying your mind?" he asked.

When his eyes met hers, the answer slipped out before Ruelle could think better of it. "You."

"What about me?" Instead of lowering her hand, Lucian turned it slightly in his grasp. His lips brushed against one of her fingers before his teeth caught it in a gentle bite.

A current ran straight down Ruelle's spine. Her breath caught, and whatever answer she might have given disappeared entirely. The faintest hint of amusement touched Lucian's eyes, as though that had been precisely what he intended.

"You were saying?" he prompted.

Ruelle stared at him, her thoughts now in considerably worse condition than before. She murmured, "I don't remember."

"How unfortunate."

Outside, the countryside melted into town and the carriage rolled over cobblestones. The carriage came to a stop in front of the seamstress's shop. A moment later, the door opened, allowing the cold air from outside to sweep inside.

"Why don't you head inside the shop? I will be right there," Lucian said, his voice a touch rougher than before. Ruelle wondered what happened, but she nodded, stepping out of the carriage.

"Ruelle!"

Ruelle turned and caught Hailey standing beside Edward, but there was no sign of her cousin. Her eyes briefly searched the street before she asked surprised,

"What are you two doing here?"

"Hailey wanted to buy a g—" Edward's words broke off abruptly when Hailey's foot connected with his ankle and he glared at her.

Hailey ignored him with remarkable composure. "We thought it would be a good time to take a stroll, and His Highness decided to bring me here." A place which was way too expensive for her to get anything, she thought in her mind.

Edward, still looking mildly offended by the kick, turned his attention back to Ruelle. "I saw the Slaters' carriage, then recognised the coachman. I knew you had to be somewhere nearby." His eyes moved towards the shop. "Did you come to buy something?"

"I had to hand in something," Ruelle replied.

"You could have sent a maid instead of coming all the way here," Edward chattered.

They began towards the entrance, but Ruelle had almost reached the door when something made her slow. She glanced over her shoulder and the carriage remained where they had left it.

Through the open door, she caught a glimpse of Lucian still seated inside, one arm resting casually beside him. Their eyes nearly met before the carriage door swung shut.

Ruelle's steps faltered. Wasn't he coming?

Edward appeared in front of her, completely blocking the carriage from view. He said, "You and Lucian left so abruptly. I even caught a deer."

Ruelle blinked, her attention snapping back to the prince. "Oh, you did?"

"That's right," Edward said with a nod as they reached the shop. "By the time we return to the mansion, it should be ready to serve." He pushed the door farther open and held it when Ruelle stepped through. "Careful."

"Thank you," Ruelle replied. Warmth immediately wrapped around her as she entered, chasing away the chill that had followed them from the street. Her attention was soon drawn towards the seamstress who stepped into her view and she went to talk to him.

Behind Ruelle, Hailey raised her eyebrows at Edward.

"What?" Edward whispered, taking immediate offence at the look. "I can be charming."

Hailey stepped through the doorway he still held open. "You do know that's a closed door, don't you, Your Highness?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "What do you take me for? I know when my feelings aren't reciprocated. You could learn something from me."

Hailey's head snapped towards him.

Somehow, during the short time they had spent together in the Slaters' mansion, Edward had discovered precisely why she had wanted to come into town. She had originally hoped Mr. Hawksley would accompany her, only for him to say that he needed to rest. Edward, upon discovering her failed plans, had apparently decided that this made them companions in misery and invited himself along.

Hailey sent a quiet glare in his direction, only for the prince to raise his eyebrows "Did you just glare at me?"

Her expression changed with impressive speed and she offered him a small bow. "Of course not, Your Highness. I couldn't see you clearly and was widening my eyes."

In the meantime, Ruelle handed her mother's handkerchief to Noah, who entrusted it to an assistant before it disappeared into the back room. It didn't take long for the seamstress to get occupied with Edward, before moving on to take Hailey's measurements.

Ruelle waited nearby, occasionally glancing towards the entrance. The bell above the door tinkled and her head turned almost immediately to check if Lucian had returned. But instead, it was a woman who brought a brief gust of cold air with her. She wore a fitted black dress beneath a dark coat, the neckline cut low enough that Ruelle's eyes were drawn there before she could stop them.

Her gaze immediately jumped back to the woman's face, feeling faintly embarrassed, and she met the woman's eyes, who smiled at her in confidence.

"Good afternoon."

For a moment, Ruelle assumed the woman was speaking to Noah, but he was occupied on the other side of the shop. The woman's attention was unmistakably fixed on her. Seeing it would be impolite not to respond, she offered a small bow. She murmured, "Good afternoon."

The woman smiled before her gaze shifted to the prince beside her. "Your Highness."

Edward, who didn't know who the woman was, simply stared at the person with a slight frown.

"I don't think you know me. My name is Lyra Parish and I work in the theatre that you visited a few days ago. We couldn't help but think what a lovely couple you two made and it is a pity we haven't managed to tempt the two of you back since your last visit."

Now that Ruelle remembered, an understanding dawned, and she complimented the woman, "It was a wonderful performance, even if it was practice."

The bell above the shop door tinkled once again, and Ruelle noticed Lucian step inside with his coat hanging on his shoulders. His gaze found her almost immediately.

"We did stay quite late the last time," Edward replied, remembering the evening he had watched Ruelle enjoy the rehearsal. "We ended up getting back to Sexton almost at midnight."

The woman continued, unaware of the new arrival, "You should come attend tomorrow night. The evening performances are considerably more interesting than the rehearsals you saw last time. I assure you... you two will quite enjoy it."

"Well, I don't know what you are showcasing at night that is different from what was practised," Edward said with a thoughtful expression, where the theatre woman's words went right past his head.

"It is intended for couples," the woman added with a knowing smile.

As she spoke, she noticed Ruelle's attention drift past her shoulder. Curious, the woman glanced back.

"Mr. Lucian Slater." Her smile brightened with recognition. "What a pleasant surprise. It has been some time since we last had the honour of your company."

Lucian inclined his head politely.

"I heard congratulations are in order." Her gaze shifted to Ruelle before returning to him. "I understand you're to be married. Then you simply must bring your bride to tomorrow night's performance. We should very much like to meet the fortunate lady who is going to be your wife."

"You have already met her," Lucian replied, his gaze shifting to Ruelle.

The woman's expression flickered with surprise. She looked from Lucian to Ruelle before her eyes widened in realisation. She offered them a respectful bow and said,

"My sincerest apologies. I hadn't realised. His Highness and she had spent the afternoon together at the theatre, so I mistakenly assumed..." she trailed off with an apologetic smile.

Ruelle lowered her gaze, a faint flush creeping into her cheeks. Somehow, it felt as though she had done something wrong simply by being misunderstood.

"You needn't apologise," Lucian's voice was composed as ever. "It's an understandable mistake. Miss Ruelle has a habit of putting people at ease. It's one of her more dangerous qualities. Pair her with almost anyone, and they'll appear to have known each other for years."

Miss Ruelle? The way Lucian addressed even though calmly felt a little out of place.

The theatre woman's shoulders seemed to relax, the fleeting worry that she might have offended the pureblooded vampire easing from her expression.

Ruelle, still faintly embarrassed as she remembered the time she had tried to avoid Lucian, glanced at Lucian. When their eyes met, a small smile found its way onto her lips.

"Ha, how is that, Lucian? Ruelle visited the theatre for the first time thanks to me," Edward said, sounding rather pleased with himself.

"A rehearsal hardly qualifies as seeing the theatre," Lucian pointed out.

Wanting to attend the theatre play with Lucian, Ruelle proposed, "Everyone is free… Perhaps we could all attend together tomorrow."

For a brief moment, no one spoke. The actress's smile faltered as it was an expected answer. Nevertheless, she recovered with practised grace. She said, "As it is only performed once a week and the tickets usually sell out rather quickly, I would be delighted to reserve a private gallery for all of you."

Ruelle recalled the upper level overlooking the stage. During her previous visit with Edward, they had remained on the lower floor, both too weary after the day's events to climb another flight of stairs.

"I've never been to a theatre before," excitement brightened Hailey's face. "We should definitely go! It would make a wonderful family outing."

Noah, who had been quietly pinning the fabric against Hailey's shoulder, paused only long enough to glance up.

"I wouldn't call that particular performance a family outing," he murmured, which went unheard by most of them. It was more suited to begin one, he thought with amusement.

"Your Highness, His Majesty may require your presence. We did not inform him of our visiting the Slaters' Mansion beforehand," Hermes said, attempting to steer the prince away from the idea.

But Edward merely waved a dismissive hand. He spoke to the woman, "We'll need seven tickets." He glanced across the room before correcting himself when his eyes fell on Peyton. "No, eight."

"Thank you for the consideration, Your Highness. But I have no interest in the theatre," Peyton answered without hesitation. "I would rather remain with the carriage." Her gaze drifted briefly towards Ruelle and Hailey, and for a fleeting moment, she wondered whether either young woman had the faintest idea what sort of performance they had just agreed to attend.

"As would I," Hermes said, offering an awkward smile.

The actress laughed softly. "If I may make a suggestion. It would be best enjoyed if one came with their partner. Very well. I shall reserve the best seats in the gallery." She bowed her head into a graceful curtsy before adding with a playful smile, "I only hope you'll reward us generously afterwards… or perhaps beforehand." With that, she walked to the assistant to collect the gown she had commissioned.

Ruelle walked to where Lucian was and she asked him, "Everything alright?" It was because he had stayed behind in the carriage.

"Yes," Lucian replied, raising his hand and tucking a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Everything is perfect."

Once their business at the seamstress's shop was finished, they stepped back onto the bustling street. Edward, Hailey and Hermes stayed behind as they wanted to shop, while Ruelle and Lucian decided to pay a visit to the witch, who had offered her the books and had also shared her future. As the carriage rolled away from the town, which disappeared behind them quickly, it took thirty minutes before they arrived at their destination.

As Ruelle stepped down from the carriage, she noticed the streets to be empty, and the witch's house stood the same as the last time.

But this was winter and the weather had eased up as if it was time for the season to leave.

Walking up the worn stone path with Lucian a step behind her, Ruelle raised her hand to knock. But before her knuckles reached the wood, Lucian's hand moved past her and he knocked on the door firmly. When no one answered, Ruelle wondered aloud,

"Perhaps she isn't home right now?"

Lucian's gaze remained fixed on the door and he said, "I doubt it. The floorboards creak."

She looked at him before turning to look at the door, but she couldn't pick up on what he did. A few moments later, the old wooden door creaked open, only wide enough for one wary eye to peer through the narrow gap. The elderly witch regarded Ruelle in silence, making no move to open the door any further.

"I had a few questions I hoped to ask," Ruelle said gently. She caught a strong whiff of the scent of herb that filled the house. "You told me I could visit."

The woman's eyes shifted past her before settling on Lucian. The hand gripping the edge of the door tightened.

"He won't harm you. I promise," Ruelle assured her.

The witch continued studying Lucian for another long moment before returning her gaze to Ruelle. The older woman remarked, "Promises are easy. Keeping them is the difficult part. If you want answers, only you can come in. I do not trust vampires."

Before Ruelle could respond, Lucian's hand settled on her shoulder, keeping her where she was. His gaze never left the witch. It seemed neither of them trusted the other enough to lower their guard.

Ruelle was about to suggest speaking at the door instead, but Lucian spoke to the older witch,

"I am an officer of the Courthouse. You may open the door of your own accord, or I can return with a warrant and several officers. I imagine you would find the first option considerably more pleasant."

The witch looked at Lucian with an obvious glare and distaste, as if loathing his existence. After two seconds, she finally pushed the door wide and stepped aside.

"Thank you," Ruelle murmured as she stepped inside the house, followed by Lucian.

Ruelle's eyes instinctively wandered around the modest cottage as she stepped inside. The walls were bare and as the thought barely crossed her mind before the elderly witch asked, "What do you want?"

"I wanted to ask you something about magic." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "You've lived a long time... and you seem to know far more than I do. So I was wondering...how to know which spells consume a witch's life and which ones are harmless? The book you lent me doesn't seem to mention it."

"The spells..." the woman murmured quietly.

While the conversation continued, Lucian drifted a few steps farther into the living room. The witch's gaze followed him and she didn't say anything until he stopped moving.

"Did you bring the book?" the witch asked.

"Oh." Ruelle gave an apologetic smile. "No, I didn't. I thought you might know the answer without needing it. It was the introductory book. One of the spells was concealment."

The old woman fell silent. When she finally spoke, her voice was lower than before, "Every spell takes something. Some demand so little that you never notice the loss until it is too late." The witch then suddenly asked, "Have you experienced anything unusual?"

"Unusual?" Ruelle asked.

"Visions, strange dreams…or hallucinations," the witch asked.

Was that supposed to happen? For a brief moment, Ruelle thought of the vision she had seen in the forest this morning. Though she had come to the witch for help, she wasn't sure she was willing to share her vision.

"No," she slowly shook her head. "I've been perfectly well."

Something shifted in the old woman's expression. It was gone before Ruelle could understand what it meant. She decided to move on before the silence became uncomfortable.

"There was also another reason I came. I was hoping to borrow the other book. The one containing the spell used to locate something." If she could find the mirror, it would make using the mirror easier. The old woman regarded her quietly.

"I no longer have that book," the old woman replied. "That spell carries a heavy price. Who do you wish to find?"

Before Ruelle could answer, Lucian asked, "So you intend to have her perform it if she tells you?"

He straightened after examining a clay vase resting upon a nearby cabinet. The old woman's eyes slowly turned towards him, displeasure settling across her features. To his question, the witch asked,

"And will you bring me children so I may restore the life it would take from me?"

Ruelle's eyes widened because the meaning wasn't lost on her. A raspy chuckle escaped the woman's lips.

"It seems you do not know the man you are about to marry," the witch stated.

Ruelle frowned before she replied, "I believe I know him well enough. Enough that you needn't concern yourself with it."

Her lips pressed together. She wanted to ask whether there was another way to restore the life force that magic consumed. If what this witch said was true, then every spell she had cast had already taken something from her, however small the price might have been.

Yet another thought followed close behind. Her mother had been a witch who had not replenished her life through sacrificing people.

"A pentagram enclosed within a circle. Each point bears the mark of one of the five elements—water, wind, earth, fire and blood," Lucian's red eyes met the old witch's eyes as he made his way back to where Ruelle stood. "Isn't that right?"

For a long moment, neither of them looked away. The old woman's expression remained unreadable, though Ruelle caught the slightest narrowing of her eyes before she replied, "It seems you already know."

"Do I?" Lucian asked.

Before Ruelle could make sense of his reply, his hand caught her wrist and drew her behind him in one smooth motion. At the same instant, tendrils of black smoke unfurled from his shadow like living creatures. They rushed forward, filling the corridor, and at the same time, shelves rattled violently as jars shattered against the floor.

Green smoke filled the space that came from the broken jars, which left Ruelle coughing and stung her eyes.