Claimed by the Prince of Darkness

Chapter 149: What Is Given Cannot Be Refused

On their way to the castle, two royal guards rode ahead of the carriage, their silhouettes steady while four followed behind. Inside the carriage, Ruelle sat quietly with the others, a faint dread settling low in her stomach, which only deepened with every beat of the horses’ hooves.

The place was less than an hour’s ride from the fair and as they neared and soon the castle came into view. Tall spires pierced the sky, their peaks nearly swallowed by the heavy stretch of darkened clouds above.

"Why has the king summoned us as well?" Ruelle asked, glancing at Edward, who seemed far more interested in the passing view beyond the window.

"The guards must have noticed a group of humans lingering around me at the fair," Edward said lightly. "Though I suspect it was the drunken man who started the fight that drew their attention. Otherwise, I doubt anyone would have recognised me. My disguise was rather good."

"Your Highness, I think it would be best if we got you into a fresh pair of clothes before meeting the king," Hermes suggested quietly.

"Sure. By the way, Ruelle, I would like to show you the gardens," Edward said, bright with enthusiasm. "They are rather well kept. I do not think you would have seen anything quite like them."

This was not the time to think of gardens, Ruelle thought in worry.

When the carriage finally came to a stop before the castle’s entrance, one of the guards stepped forward and opened the carriage door.

As Ruelle stepped down, her eyes took in her surroundings. Her gaze did not linger long before it fell on the men who had attacked them earlier. They were being taken down from the back of the carriage now as though they were luggage.

Edward stepped inside and Hermes followed just behind him. As Ruelle and her friends crossed the threshold, a guard’s voice spoke behind them.

"Not you."

Ruelle turned at once and noticed two guards had stopped Claude from entering the castle. The guard spoke firmly, "Coachmen remain outside."

Edward had already walked a few steps ahead, unaware of what happened at the entrance. When Ruelle’s eyes met Claude’s, he offered her a small, reassuring smile. He informed her, "I will be waiting here, Miss Ruelle."

For a brief moment, her lips pursed. Then she gave a quiet nod before turning back and continuing inside.

She walked with the others, her gaze lifting briefly to the high ceiling above, when the sound of approaching footsteps was heard loud and clear.

Her eyes lowered in time to catch a tall man approaching, his broad shoulders draped in a coat lined with dark fur, moving with quiet authority. His dark red eyes were steady, unyielding, a faint cut resting across his left brow as though it had never quite faded. A trimmed beard framed the man’s jaw, making his expression severe.

This was Edward’s father, King Septimus, Ruelle realised.

A brief silence fell with the footsteps coming to a halt. Soon she and the others were quick to offer a bow.

"And what exactly am I to make of this?" King Septimus hummed, his deep voice reverberated through the hall. His gaze moved from the tattered clothes to the blood that soaked through it. "You seem to have injured yourself rather carelessly, Edward."

"It is a small injury," Edward replied. "Nothing worth concern, Father."

"Is that so?"

There was no haste in the king’s movement as he stepped towards his son. When he stood before him, his gaze lowered briefly to the wound, and he murmured, "Let us see how small it truly is."

Before Edward could respond, the king’s hand lifted. His index and middle finger pressed into the injury without warning.

Ruelle, who caught sight of this, her eyes widened. What was he doing...? She noticed how Edward’s body tensed, his hands tightening and his teeth clenched. He had begun to bleed once again.

withdrew his hand

lifted back to Edward’s face. "You would do well not to misjudge your own condition. A man who cannot

am aware of that..." Edward’s

want to see you in this state again. Else it would make me think you have grown weary of your royal name," King Septimus stated, and as if to make a point, his fingers curled, making Edward cough out blood. "I

her sides, her fingers pressing into her palms. He was hurting an already injured person! As if sensing her gaze,

the king’s fingers finally withdrew. He drew in a slow breath, and

meant to examine my heart more

faintly amused by his son’s words. His gaze returning to the prince, he remarked, "One must be certain that nothing

even a breath out of place might be wrong. After all, he was the prince’s attendant, and the

while she

breath, his tone light

did not respond to that. Instead, his gaze fell on Hermes. He demanded, "Who dared to

collective thought from everyone standing there. But no one dared to say

king," Hermes answered, his

and

she instantly felt a weight press against her chest. She

was three men

added, lifting her head only briefly before

begun because of her... no, because of her father. She had seen how he treated his own son and she

Father," Edward answered, a

against Edward’s back,

be set." His gaze then shifted. "Hermes, have them brought

king," Hermes replied, more than willing to carry out the

fingers brushing lightly against the blood that had begun to seep through his clothes. When he looked up again, he noticed his father’s gaze resting

"Father, this is Ruelle."

at once and offered

Feeling tension rise, her lips

disappear entirely, already ready for

he had finally taken note of their names.

over the three of them, slow and assessing, as

about your choice of company in Sexton, Edward. All humans.

in

spoke, King Septimus’

did not feel casual. It was clear why they had been summoned. The king wanted to see who the prince was being influenced

I should change my clothes and get some blood to drink," Edward muttered, glancing briefly at the blood that had begun to dry. "I will see

and walked away. Then King Septimus spoke, "There is a patio at the back." Taking it as a dismissal, the three of them bowed and

Ruelle stopped at the king’s voice. "Ruelle, was

tightened. She heard him

as King Septimus had already begun to walk, and she followed

a double-door room which was wide with tall windows and curtains draping them. There was no one except for

over the

just intimidated by me?" King Septimus questioned, before

it would be foolish not to feel intimidated in

assessing. "Your family must be doing well. Velvet from the

It was given to me as a