Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 48: Masquerade Mishaps

Invitation?!

Behind her mask, Ruelle’s mind raced. Hailey, who had been so bubbly and confident moments ago, now stood frozen beside her, her shoulders stiff with tension. Kevin’s hand twitched nervously at his side, his breath shallow and barely audible.

The silence stretched, and no one moved.

’Well, if you change your mind, don’t be shy to ask for an invite,’ Sawyer’s words echoed in the back of Ruelle’s mind.

Her heart thudded, adrenaline rushing through her veins as the taller of the two guards stepped forward. The faint scrape of his boots against the stone floor felt unnaturally loud. If anyone found out they were impersonating vampires, it would be a disaster.

Ruelle’s nails dug into her palms, grounding her as a reckless and absurd idea took hold. She forced calmness into her movements as she stepped forward.

"Invitations?" Ruelle repeated with a drawl, as if the very word were beneath her. Tilting her chin just enough to appear both arrogant and dismissive, she let out a sharp exhale, the kind one might use when dealing with particularly insubordinate staff. "I should have known. My father always complains about this—every time he’s come here, he mentions the manor’s tardiness. You must be new not to recognise the distinguished D’Arvelles."

Behind her, Kevin made a small noise of confusion, but Hailey quickly elbowed him, silencing any protest. Ruelle felt the guard’s gaze drilling into her. Her pulse pounded in her ears, but she kept her face confident.

"I don’t need an invitation. Unless, of course, you have something against my family?" she continued, meeting the taller guard’s gaze with a glare. "Or perhaps you would prefer I tell my father about your... tardiness in recognising the pureblooded vampire lineage?"

The taller guard hesitated, his scepticism lingering. Ruelle caught the slight flicker of doubt in his gaze, her fingers trembling for a fleeting moment before she clasped them behind her back.

"Perhaps there’s been a mistake," the taller guard muttered.

"Oh, no mistake," Ruelle interjected, her voice now sickly sweet, tinged with menace. "Unless, of course, you count the mistake of wasting my time. My siblings and I," she gestured lazily toward Hailey and Kevin, "have travelled all evening. And this—this is how we are greeted? Celia, Ren, have you ever seen such incompetence?"

"Never! I’ve never seen anything like it. Completely disgraceful," Hailey declared, her voice a little too high-pitched.

The shorter guard cast a nervous glance at his partner before stepping aside, his face pale as he muttered, "Our apologies, milady. Welcome to Chateau Noir."

Ruelle swept past them without so much as a glance, her midnight blue gown whispering against the cold stone floor. The heavy oak doors groaned shut behind them, muffling the low murmur of the guards. Hailey and Kevin followed closely, their footsteps muted against the cavernous corridor.

In the corridor, the candles flickered atop iron stands, their light pooling on the polished stone floor as the vaulted corridor stretched ahead like a cathedral. The cool air carried the tang of melted wax and ancient stone, weaving with the muted strains of distant music.

The moment the guards were out of sight, Kevin let out a ragged exhale that shattered the oppressive silence.

"D’Arvelles? Since when are we the D’Arvelles?" He whispered, his voice tight with disbelief.

"Since a minute ago," Ruelle replied, her tone calm, though her heart still hammered against her ribs. She glanced at a towering window draped with heavy velvet curtains. Beyond the etched glass, the night loomed, vast and impenetrable.

Hailey glanced nervously over her shoulder. "I thought I was going to faint there. They never mentioned anything about invitations!" she whispered, adjusting the ties on her mask. "You were incredible, Ruelle. Terrifying, but incredible."

Kevin let out a shaky laugh. "Incredible? It was like a ghost possessed her."

Ruelle allowed herself a small, nervous smile, though it was hidden behind her mask. Her earlier confidence felt like a thin veneer over her fear. "Let’s just hope we don’t run into anyone who actually knows the D’Arvelles," she murmured quietly.

"We’re definitely tonight’s appetiser," Kevin muttered, tugging at his collar.

"Celia," Hailey said, testing her fake name with a grin. "I like it. Very elegant."

"Let’s keep moving," Ruelle urged softly, her voice calm despite the knot tightening in her stomach.

loomed ahead, their dark wood carved with intricate, curling patterns of roses and serpents. The hum of voices and clinking glasses grew louder, mingling with the music as it poured through the cracks in

breath catching in her throat. The doors stood as an invitation and a warning, their

ripple of light from the chandeliers danced across the polished marble floor, reflecting the crimson hues of the roses that adorned every

like an heirloom, its intricate beading catching the flicker of candlelight. She felt the weight of countless gazes on her, dissecting, assessing, prying. Her

Hailey moved cautiously, trying to mimic the effortless grace of

feels like a goat that

replied, her voice carrying an edge. She could feel the weight

the far corner, where a figure caught her attention.

Lucian.

in his glass swirled slowly as he moved his wrist, the deep red liquid mirroring the color of his eyes. His

Male vampires with aristocratic sneers exchanged words in low tones, clearly trying to gain Lucian’s favor. He listened with an air

his lips bordered with cruel amusement, the kind that whispered he

through her false composure. Her hands clenched at her sides, her breathing shallow as panic coiled in

away, his expression unchanging, his attention returning

out a sigh of

tense whisper

"Who?" Hailey’s voice wavered.

Ruelle could respond, a voice dripped with honeyed malice

slowly, willing her trembling hands to remain steady. Every muscle in her body tightened as her gaze landed on Alanna. The vampiress moved

Her gaze swept over Ruelle’s midnight-blue gown, lingering on the intricate beading and rich fabric. "That gown... how striking. Quite exquisite, really. I’ve only seen such craftsmanship on those who frequent the King’s

in her ears. The borrowed gown clung to her like a fragile lie, its elegance drawing exactly the kind of attention she wanted to avoid. She forced

its craftsmanship," Ruelle said softly, her tone laced with just

her lips curling. She remarked,

though preparing to intervene. They were balancing on a knife’s edge, and one wrong move could

to meet Alanna’s gaze, Ruelle replied, "That’s because we have never met before. I don’t frequent your kind’s

her words gave them an edge. For a moment, Alanna’s expression darkened, her ruby eyes narrowing. She

voice carrying the perfect blend of

it carried no warmth.

to avoid unnecessary spectacle," Ruelle said smoothly,

intriguing. Strange, though—I’ve attended countless court gatherings and never once heard of the D’Arvelles attending. Do you prefer

us just say that privacy has its advantages. I am sure

maid appeared with a tray

asked softly, her voice trembling just

tray with carelessness. The wine glasses toppled, crimson liquid splattering

cruel. "How clumsy. Humans truly are hopeless. You’ll have to clean that

with the tip of her heel,

the maid to her feet and wipe away the stain of

turned back to Ruelle, her smirk widening. "Don’t you agree? Humans are so... graceless. Tiresome, really. It’s a wonder

It’s defined by one’s actions. And no amount of silk

last, her tone brittle. "But I find it curious—your insistence on defending such lowly creatures. Surely someone

that we reveal our true nature. Or do you believe cruelty is

knuckles pale beneath her gloves and she was quick to take a couple of sips from her glass. Kevin’s jaw

This has been... enlightening," Alanna said with a practiced smile. "Until next time,

voice even but her gaze

before turning sharply, her minions trailing behind like shadows. As the tension in the air eased, Kevin let out a low whistle, leaning towards Ruelle and he said,

as she tracked Alanna’s retreating form, her heart still pounding in her chest. She prayed the vampiress wouldn’t delve too deeply into the fabricated existence of the D’Arvelles. A prickle of unease

absolutely loving this,