Chapter 175: A Place at the Table
At the hour of midnight, a blizzard had started outside the Slater mansion.
Snow struck the windows until all the glass frosted into blindness and the world had been reduced to white noise. Inside the mansion, the corridors were deserted while candles burned, nearing their last breaths, leaving some corridors dark.
On one of the floors, Peyton stood against the wall with her eyes closed, with her hand resting against her dagger. Even though she was a vampiress, she wore a coat, as the chill from the outside had seeped into the corridors.
Beyond the other side of the door, the coals burned in the fireplace, emitting heat and light, while the rest of the room remained covered in shadows.
In the bed, Ruelle was fast asleep. One of her hands stretched across the warm bedspread, her forearm hanging at the edge of the bed, her breathing slow and even. The strain that lived in her expression during waking hours had smoothed away, leaving her looking softer than usual.
Lucian watched her breathe as though confirming she remained there each time her chest rose. The distance had started becoming intolerable.
Since last night, the urge to climb into the bed beside her had only grown worse.
Zhenya, who had earlier curled up on the bed, had gotten off to rest in front of the fireplace as if it had only meant to accompany Ruelle until the owner arrived.
Lucian sat on the ground next to the edge of her bed, with his shoulder resting lightly against the wood.
To think that while he drowned himself in blood, she had been breaking somewhere far beyond his sight. Her family had reduced her to the point where death had looked gentler than continuing and the thought refused to leave his mind.
Killing Harold Belmont had done little to settle the violence beneath Lucian’s skin.
Ruelle had endured all of it while still remaining unbearably soft, forgiving people he would have buried without hesitation. He knew her well enough that she would never have truly wished for her father’s death. Perhaps she would grieve once she learned.
With Ruelle’s hand resting loosely near the edge of the bed, Lucian stared at it for several quiet seconds before finally taking it into his own. He guided her hand slowly against the side of his neck, letting it rest there without waking her. It was almost like a creature soothing itself through contact with what it considered its own, as the tightness beneath Lucian’s expression eased slightly.
As time passed, the room fell quiet save for the fire crackling and the storm raging beyond the frost-covered glass.
Out in the corridor, the vampiress heard the sound of something click from inside and her bright red eyes snapped open. Her hand quickly pulled the dagger and she entered the human’s room. Her eyes looked around the room, noticing the wolf sitting next to the fireplace, watching her.
Peyton looked at Ruelle, who was still sleeping, before her eyes fell on the curtain that had just stilled. There was a faint scent of snow that had seeped inside the room, but then the vampiress frowned.
"Human blood..."
Was it from her? The vampiress questioned, her gaze returning to Ruelle, who stirred under the blanket. Moving closer, she didn’t catch it, as the scent of blood disappeared.
When morning arrived, the blizzard had weakened sometime before dawn and snow settled heavily across the grounds surrounding the Slater mansion. But beyond the estate walls, the towns and villages had already begun to stir. The newsletters from the courthouse had arrived. The headline read—
ROYAL COURT ANNOUNCES RESTORATION OF THE TREATY. ENGAGEMENT ANNOUNCED BETWEEN LUCIAN SLATER AND RUELLE BELMONT.
"Ruelle Belmont is marrying into a pureblooded family," one of the women remarked while standing at the shop early in the morning.
"Not just any family," another quickly corrected. "They say he belongs to one of the oldest bloodlines. The lord’s son himself. You must be rather surprised hearing this, Mrs. Webb."
The question was directed at a woman who had remained quiet until now, though the fact she had lingered without buying anything suggested otherwise.
"Surprised? Hardly," Mrs. Webb replied. Her lips pursed slightly. "The girl must have pleased the men in Sexton. Everyone knows what sort of things happen inside that place."
Mrs. Webb then continued, "It’s why my family broke the engagement in the first place. You know what happened last time..."
The women nodded in sympathy, though the sympathy was paper-thin.
"Excuse me. I need to get back home now." Mrs. Webb departed, as if she was fleeing.
"Looks like she’s regretting making Mason break off the engagement with Ruelle," one of the women spoke in a lowered voice. "I doubt she or her son thought that Ruelle was worth anything with Harold Belmont’s mounting debt."
"True." Yet these same women had once gossiped about Ruelle.
Though it was only morning, the news continued to spread like wildfire through the lands. A pureblooded vampire binding to a lowly human was gossip no one could resist speaking about. The news soon reached King Septimus’s castle.
Hailey, who wore the maid’s uniform and was holding a duster while staring at a broken vase which was said to hold a fortune, noticed Hermes moving through the hallways of the castle, his steps wobbly. The newsletter in his hand was crumpled from holding it tight.
"You appear to be in a rush, Mr. Hermes."
"I have to inform the king about the marriage," Hermes said a little breathlessly.
"Father is getting married?" Edward had only arrived after staying outside the entire night, like the last three days. The prince frowned and muttered in a grimace, "I should pack my things sooner."
"The king is getting married?" Hailey blinked in surprise. "To whom?"
But Hermes shook his head. He clarified, "No, Your Highness. "It is news about Mr. Slater and Ms. Belmont."
Edward grabbed the newsletter from Hermes’s hands and his eyes swept through the heading. The muscle in his jaw tightened.
"Isn’t it a little too soon? And did they have to announce it to the world?" The prince’s question came out tight, with the undertones of concern beneath the irritation.
He was well aware the announcement would draw unnecessary attention towards Ruelle. He muttered, "A bunch of lunatics sit in the courthouse."
Hailey’s face immediately lit up at the news and she asked, "When is the wedding being held?!"
"In eighteen days," Hermes informed her.
"How wonderful!" Hailey responded in delight before asking the attendant, "Do you think I can get my wage sooner for this month so that I can buy clothes for the wedding, Mr. Hermes?"
"I shall ask the king about it and let you know," Hermes responded to which the young woman nodded in excitement. He then added, "I need to get my clothes ready too."
A scowl formed on Edward’s face and he demanded, "What for? We will be leaving for the north."
Hermes raised his hand to count before he let the prince know, "Your Highness, there’s still a month for that."
"I thought, why waste time when so much is to be done," Edward replied while trying to act calm and composed. Hailey, who noticed this, quietly rolled her eyes. "And it’s not like you haven’t attended a wedding before."
Hermes and Hailey exchanged glances at each other.
"Seems like Ruelle’s best friend won’t be able to make it," Hailey spoke casually. "But that’s alright. I mean there’s Kevin who will fill your spot, Your Highness. You should have a safe trip—"
"What do you mean my spot will be taken?!" Edward demanded. "I am still the bestest friend of hers."
Of course he would be going to the wedding even if he didn’t like it, thought the prince. He gritted his teeth, cursing, ’Damn you, Lucian Slater.’
Back in the Slater mansion, Ruelle walked in the corridor with Peyton right behind her. When she arrived near the dining room, she caught Maude overlooking the servants who carried trays of food and drinks for breakfast.
Hearing the quietness within, she entered the room, assuming she had arrived before everyone else—until she caught Lord Azriel sitting at the head of the long table.
He sat there poised, his eyes trained on the parchment in his hand while the blood tea beside him remained untouched, faint curls of steam still rising from the cup.
Though Lord Azriel had agreed to the union, this was the first time they had truly been alone together since the announcement. Ruelle carefully walked toward the table while noticing how Lucian resembled his father. From the black hair to the bone structure. Only Lord Azriel’s face carried faint lines that age had left behind.
Was Lucian still sleeping in? The thought flickered through her mind as she moved. It was unusual for him not to be awake.
"Good morning, Lord Azriel," she greeted the man with a polite and respectful bow.
Lord Azriel looked up from whatever he’d been occupied with. At the same time she had pulled the second chair to sit—
"Ruelle. Does my presence scare you?"
The question caught her off-guard. She would have been if he weren’t Lucian’s father. The man was a lord and there was a slight air of intimidation that radiated from him. How could she forget how he had caught her pouring wine into one of the plants here.
"Not really..." she replied carefully. Though she didn’t know what had prompted the question. Did she do something?
"Why are you sitting there? Sit here." Lord Azriel raised his hand to point to the immediate chair on his right.
"But Lord Azriel, it belongs to Brother Dane," Ruelle’s words were soft yet careful.
She was aware of the hierarchy in which the noblemen and their families sat at the table. Though she had been the elder daughter in her own family, the seat closest to her father had always belonged to Caroline and her step-mother.
Peyton stood at the back without directly looking at them as if she weren’t there at all.
"One morning will not disrupt the order of this table. It is odd to speak across such a gap as though you were a stranger. Dane would not object," Lord Azriel stated, his eyes watching her.
Ruelle moved hesitantly toward the chair, only for one of the servants to quickly pull it out for her. She quietly took her seat beside Lord Azriel.
A servant placed a hot cup of milk tea beside Ruelle just as Lord Azriel spoke.
"Though Sexton never permits humans to progress beyond the first or second year, I see no reason for your studies to end because of it. I spoke about it with Lucian too. Arrangements can be made for you to continue them here at the mansion."
"I... would like that very much," Ruelle answered, knowing she would have to learn how to fit into the high society she had never been part of.
"Lucian will naturally be your first point of approach. However, should he be unavailable, you may reach out to me or Maude regarding any matters concerning the household," Lord Azriel continued to speak.
"I will remember that," Ruelle answered promptly.
Lord Azriel gave a slow, thoughtful nod. Irina had once looked forward to the day their sons would marry and finally settle into lives of their own. The thought lingered quietly in the space her absence had left behind.
’Poor thing fell asleep at the desk when they were studying,’ his wife chuckled. ’Dane had to shift her to bed later.’
’You seem to be enjoying it. I was worried when Septimus handed the treaty to our family,’ Lord Azriel stated, watching her smile.
’Whether they choose a human, halfling or vampire matters very little to me,’ Irina murmured while moving nearer to him. ’The nature of the person beside them is what endures. Patience and emotional steadiness. Lucian especially requires someone capable of understanding the quieter parts of him.’
Her expression softened slightly.
’Ruelle is a sweet child. She feels very much like the daughter I never had.’
Lord Azriel took her in his arms, kissing her temple. ’We can still have a daughter if you want.’
’Should we?’ Irina smiled up at him, her arms slipping around his waist.
"I heard your parents will not be attending the wedding," Lord Azriel stated, which caught Ruelle slightly off-guard. "Would you prefer that I speak with them personally?"
Ruelle quickly shook her head. "No... that will not be necessary. But I appreciate the consideration." How strange, she thought to herself. To have another person speak to her parents. After a brief pause, she added quietly, "They were not pleased when they learned of the treaty being renewed. Especially my father."
"I see." Lord Azriel’s gaze lowered briefly toward the untouched tea beside him. "It seems Harold Belmont has not changed very much. He struggled to conceal his displeasure toward vampires even in the past."
A faint smile touched Ruelle’s lips without reaching her eyes. Her father did hate vampires. Yet he had allowed Ezekiel, a halfling to marry Caroline, as he had helped her family.
She couldn’t help but wonder if the nobles and ministers attending the wedding would question her parents’ absence. Would it reflect poorly upon the Slater family to have the bride abandoned so openly by her own household?
"Also, Ruelle," Lord Azriel said, drawing her from her thoughts. "There is little need to continue addressing me so formally now. Father is sufficient, should you prefer it."
Ruelle’s eyes widened slightly before something tighter crossed through them, as though the words had struck somewhere deeper than she had been prepared for. A strange heaviness gathered in her chest and throat so suddenly that for a moment she forgot how to respond.
"Looks like I am not the last one to arrive," Dane’s familiar voice drawled lightly.
Ruelle turned toward the entrance where Dane stepped inside, dressed neatly as always. His eyes moved between her and his father with the sharp awareness of someone who missed nothing.
"Good morning, Father. Ruelle," Dane greeted them before taking a seat next to Ruelle.
"Good morning, Brother Dane," Ruelle’s response came with a smile which was genuine and warm, and he returned it.
"Were you able to sleep well last night? A new room is rarely comfortable at first," Dane said, picking up a fork and stabbing the nearby fruit.
"It was better than I expected," Ruelle replied softly.
Hearing footsteps enter the room, her eyes instinctively lifted toward the entrance, where Lucian walked past the chairs before taking the seat opposite her.
"Good morning," Ruelle murmured softly as their eyes met. "Did you sleep well?"
"It was manageable," Lucian answered, taking the blood tea placed next to him and sipping from it, whilst his eyes stayed on her.
