Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 13: Veils of Deceit

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.

broke through her

be done, both inside and out," though a fleeting look of concern shadowed her face. "Caroline needs her sister next to her with

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

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,

how is Sexton?" Caroline asked, her curiosity piqued. "Is it as big

Elites—the vampires. We humans are addressed as Groundlings," she added, her voice soft with the weight of

you fancy? Or someone who fancies you?" she looked at her older sister's reflection in the mirror.

a small smile, "I met June Clifford. She's

spinning around on her

place. You

Henley and I have barely spoken since the wedding announcement.

only a week, and then

can't wait to marry him. It's like the more

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

those things on her.

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,

hold. Little Ruelle awoke with a gasp, her heart racing against the cold grasp of the night. The chilling air nipped at her

fear that gripped her, she slipped out of bed, tiptoeing towards her parents' room. Her knock was soft, tentative. When

her voice

little girl whispered, her voice trembling like a fragile leaf

replied, barely hiding

Ruelle gazed up

are no monsters, Ruelle. Caroline is sleeping

hanging

you. Find somewhere else to sleep. Goodnight,' Mrs. Belmont said sharply before closing the

withstand the silence. She wandered through the dim halls until she entered the servants' quarters. There,

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

when morning arrived, Mr. Belmont had been reported of her

the little girl pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks, her small

searing reminder of his displeasure. Fear coursed through her as she watched him, trembling, raise