Chapter 123: What cannot be bought

When Lucian’s long, elegant finger ceased its tapping, Ruelle’s traitorous eyes slowly rose to meet his. The veil was a foolish shield, yet without it she felt she might dissolve entirely beneath his gaze.

"How badly did you paint in the class to end up here?" Lucian asked, his eyes deceptively calm like a still sea.

Ruelle began to turn her head. "It was your—"

"Stay as you are." Lucian’s voice was low. His instruction was soft and her body obeyed before thought could intervene.

"My what?" he asked mildly as he removed his coat, folding it once before setting it aside.

As he rolled his sleeves, the fabric drew slowly over his forearms, revealing pale skin and the faint line of veins beneath. When his fingers flexed, she looked away as if she had seen too much.

"It was nothing," Ruelle whispered, her fingers tightening in her lap.

Across the hall, Mr. Swan’s voice came with brisk cheer as he spoke, "Choose your subject. This will be your final assessment. You may begin," while ignoring the veil Ruelle had pulled over her.

At the instructor’s words, the Elite students began to lift clay and press it between their palms.

Out of the four vampires who had chosen her as their subject, three rose from their tables and approached the dais. And during that time, Ruelle’s spine stiffened under their attention, her hands folded so tightly in her lap that her knuckles almost turned white.

"Ugh, this one looks like it is going to take more time. I will take the other one," said one of the vampires, before moving to where the human male was.

Another vampire stood long enough for her shoulders to begin to ache before the person quit and moved with a mutter, "The fabric is going to be annoying."

When the third vampire lingered longer than necessary, a soft tap sounded from the front table as if the view were being blocked. The vampire shifted at once and returned to his place.

At Lucian’s table, Ruelle noticed how he appeared unbothered. Under his hands, the clay already bore the outline of her form.

The minutes stretched into hours, and weariness settled into Ruelle’s bones.

"My neck hurts," Caroline complained from the other side with a strained voice. "I cannot hold it like this any longer. I need to sit straight."

"Endure a little longer. You should feel fortunate to be of use today," Mr. Swan hummed in amusement, while Caroline glared at him quietly. "The other two are doing just fine. I have been considering a paired subject. A man and woman. Proportions are easier to assess when placed together."

"I am a married woman," Caroline snapped through gritted teeth at the old man’s audacity.

"Not you, Mrs. Henley," the instructor dismissed her. "I was thinking of Miss Belmont."

Mr. Swan, but I would prefer to decline," Ruelle replied with

far end," he pointed at a statue of a woman made out

Swan was pointing to, her gaze caught Lucian’s which was narrowed as he looked at the instructor, the way a predator

over the body is compelling. It is a marvellous piece. Imagine such an art

as he turned with his face still bright

he gestured

"No."

gaze remained on the instructor until the brightness in Mr. Swan’s

you know that Mr. Mortis had the artist, Winslow, called to Sexton last month? I imagine he would find reason to be displeased

Silence followed.

before his eyes widened at the possibility of being replaced by another artist. After a minute he cleared his throat and said, "Continue your work, everyone. I will return shortly!" and he stormed

to the sharp sound of shoes approaching

sleep?" Lucian asked while his eyes moved down the veil that was settled over

Ruelle replied, her

regarded her for a moment before responding, "It was good." He

blinked beneath the veil. "I

reason your friend believes you are moving into the new quarters with

Ruelle let out a nervous smile. "I—I haven’t told her yet... She was so happy about

her but to graze the veil

how to break the news,"

the word," Lucian offered, his fingers hovering near the fabric, as though testing the distance he had not crossed. He then dropped his hand to

And while doing so, the fabric slowly slipped away from her head,

ears. He took a deep breath and then instructed her, "The weekend to the fair. You

take the local carriage," Ruelle replied, watching

we can both agree that your history with local carriages has been a disaster," Lucian

disbelief. Only then did it strike her that

at her. The vampiress’s sculpture had warped

herself, "I don’t think I will be leaving the room anytime

he pulled out his pocket watch. He announced, "Three hours and seventeen minutes. That will

began to scrape against the floor, one by one as the Elite students rose after feeling they were done sculpting. And with not so

while waiting for the class to be done, while

had chosen Ruelle as the subject. His eyes widened as the sculpture bore only a distant, grotesque resemblance to its subject, the veil carved like a shroud, the features warped into something hollow-eyed and mournful, as though

think it was harder than it seemed. But not bad, aye?"

created Miss Belmont as though she expired mid-sentence.

to walk and addressed the models, "Miss Belmont, Mrs. Henley, and you—you are all dismissed. You have passed your

sister who was still fast asleep, Ruelle wasn’t sure if it was okay to leave, as it seemed

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