Chapter 194: Beaten and Baked
Mr. and Mrs. Belmont had taken to walking through the village of Brackenwell, their steps slowing when they stopped in front of the small gates of the house they had once called home. But now, it was bare and covered in snow.
"To think we lived here not so long ago," Mrs. Belmont murmured. When her husband pulled his arm from her grasp, she frowned. "Where are you going?"
"To take a walk. I will be back," he answered, already stepping away from her.
Ezekiel was growing irritated. The way Megan clung to him reminded him too much of Caroline. His steps quickened as he took the street that curved back towards the cemetery, towards Ruelle.
But before he could get far, two men approached from the opposite side. One of them stopped him with a hand to his shoulder.
"What?" Ezekiel questioned.
"Harold Belmont," the man spat. "Where do you think you’re going when you owe me money?"
Pushing the hand off from his shoulder, he said with a sigh, "Go to the courthouse. They will pay you double what I owe. Now scram."
The words only made the men angrier and one of them swung at him. Ezekiel moved easily, dodging before driving his knee into the man’s stomach hard enough to knock the breath from him.
The man folded with a cough. "Get him!" he wheezed.
"You took the money when you needed it, and now you are trying to scam us again? Wearing clothes like that and I saw the carriage you came in," said the second man, and when the man caught sight of his fellow men, he shouted, "Look here! Harold Belmont has returned to pay the money."
A third person came and barked, "You bastard! My brother-in-law died trying to collect from you!" Two others grabbed thick logs stacked beside a half-cut tree and joined in.
Even in Harold’s body, Ezekiel still carried the strength of a half-blood. More than enough to break them and when the first two rushed him, he struck fast. One fell and then another. But they got back up.
"What the hell? I thought you said he had broken hands, how is he this strong for an old man?" demanded one of them who took the hit. "Where’s our damn money?"
A lot more crowd were beginning to gather and they had begun to murmur amongst themselves. And from the corner of his eye, he saw Mrs. Belmont running towards them, her face pale with shock.
Ezekiel gritted his teeth because if he kept fighting like this, someone would notice. Harold Belmont was a weak, cowardly man. So he let it land and be over with it.
TWAK! Another blow landed across his back, then another. Blood ran down the side of his face, dark against the snow.
"AHH!" Mrs. Belmont screamed, rushing forward. "What are you doing?! Let go of my husband!"
The same man who had taken Ezekiel’s knee to his stomach raised the log again and brought it down against Ezekiel’s back.
Ezekiel’s eyes stayed open which had turned red, and beneath the pain, fury churned. He cursed Harold Belmont for the miserable life he had built. He grit his teeth.
"Stop right there! Back away!" The two guards who were with Ruelle shoved through the crowd at last, forcing the men back. "You are under arrest for assaulting an innocent man."
"Innocent?" the man barked a laugh. "Like hell he is! Three men from this village disappeared after they went to collect what he owed! No one knows where they went. And this bastard walks back here dressed like a lord?"
Ruelle’s mouth went dry at the sight of her father crumpled in the snow, blood darkening his clothes. For some time now, she had imagined him brought low for everything he had done. Yet the sight of him bleeding in the snow did not bring satisfaction. Only a strange hollowness. His hand trembled in the snow and he extended his hands in her direction. Even now, bleeding and broken, he still reached for her as if she belonged at his side. As if his pain erased the memory.
One of the men kicked Mr. Belmont’s side and a groan left Ezekiel’s mouth.
"Carlos," Mason stepped forward, hands raised as if to cool the fire. "This isn’t the way."
But it didn’t sit well with the debt collectors, and one of them demanded, "If you are going to side with him, pay his debt."
Mason laughed at once and he asked, "And why would I do that?"
Mrs. Belmont pushed past first, dropping to her knees beside him. She cradled her husband’s face and cried,
"Look what you’ve done! Guards! Arrest them! Throw them into the dungeon!" Her fingers brushed his bruised cheek and he winced. "We need to get you treated, Harold."
Ruelle barely had time to blink before one of the debt collectors struck the guard, and the men crashed into each other in a mess of fists. Whispers broke around the crowd as the fight began again, which was barely contained.
Unlike before, Claude stood quietly beside Ruelle. After the last time he had gotten into a fight and lost her, he had learned his lesson.
The shouting had started to blur into one another. Men cursing, Mrs. Belmont crying and the guards barking orders. Ruelle stood still in the middle of it, her fingers cold despite the gloves.
Mason jogged to where Ruelle stood and asked, "Are you alright, Ruelle? That must have frightened you. It isn’t safe for you to stay here. You and your family should leave. Where is your carriage?"
Ruelle’s eyes were still glued on the guards shackling the debt collectors, while her mother and another villager helped her father up.
"We will head there," she replied.
"Let me help you, Mr. Belmont!" Mason quickly offered to support him with the guard. When Ruelle looked at the ground, the blood looked too dark against the snow, almost unreal.
By the time they reached the carriage, Mr. Belmont was barely standing. Mrs. Belmont climbed in first, helping him onto the seat opposite. But the way he sprawled across it left little room for the rest.
Hailey murmured, "There’s not enough space for all of us."
"Ruelle," Mr. Belmont’s weak voice carried from inside the carriage.
The cold had settled deeper and Ruelle’s boots were wet from the snow. She could still smell iron in the air and it felt like it was spreading.
Mason offered, "It seems Mr. Belmont wants you with him. I can bring your friend back safely."
But Ruelle wasn’t convinced and she was about to suggest sitting next to Claude, when Hailey nudged ger lightly, "Go. I will be right behind."
Leaving Hailey behind didn’t sit right. But Mrs. Belmont snapped at once, "What are you standing there for? Your father needs treatment!"
Ruelle pursed her lips, because she had to stick to where the coachman could see her. Hesitantly, she stepped inside, and the door shut behind her.
Once the carriage began to move, Mrs. Belmont’s eyes were wet and she said, "You should have let Lucian pay them when he offered. But no—your pride mattered more. Look where it got you."
The carriage rocked over uneven ground. The sound of Mr. Belmont breathing harshly filled the space. Mrs. Belmont covered her face with her hand, shaking her head. "To think they came right when we arrived," came her muffled words.
At those words, Ruelle felt her father’s eyes shift to her. He murmured,
"It is strange," his bloody gaze lingering on her. "That they came so quickly."
Ruelle kept her face still. For a moment, her chest tightened. Had Lucian moved too fast? Or had she been too willing to let it happen? The thought sat uneasily in her chest, because if her father connected it back to Lucian, this could get worse.
"You should have stayed with us at the cemetery," she said quietly, trying to smooth over the thought before it deepened. But it was obvious that her father was suspicious with the way his eyes stayed on her.
When Lucian had told her to bring her father to Brackenwell, she had guessed something like this was going to happen. Which was why the shock wasn’t the same as what her stepmother had received.
"I feel like I’m dying," Mr. Belmont’s eyes closed. Mrs. Belmont leaned over him at once, panic returning and she leaned forward to kiss her husband on the lips.
Ezekiel’s body stiffened. The disgust in his eyes flashed so quickly that Ruelle would have caught it if she hadn’t turned to look outside. She instead saw the glass slightly fog from her breath while she watched the trees outside blur.
In the other carriage, where Hailey sat across from Mason Webb, silence stretched between them for a while. She sat with her arms crossed, staring out the small window, still thinking about the blood she had seen in the snow.
Mason cleared his throat and attempted to start the conversation, "It was terrible what happened to Mr. Belmont. Those men shouldn’t have gone that far. There are other ways to settle debt," he shook his head as though he were still troubled by it.
His eyes shifted to Hailey and then added, "Poor Ruelle must be shaken. Back then, even the sight of blood made her tremble."
Hailey’s brows twitched at those words. Mason then said, "Why don’t you help me make her agree to return to me? After all, she’s once agreed to be my wife in the past."
"Do you have a death wish?" Hailey asked in a serious tone as she uncrossed her arms.
That made the man laugh and he asked, "Why? Didn’t you see me back there? I handled myself just fine."
Hailey rolled her eyes. She had seen men in Sexton tear each other apart in the underground dungeons. Compared to that, Mason swinging his fists at nothing was hilarious. Leaning back against her seat, she said flatly,
"She’s already spoken for and you lost your moment. Frankly, it would do you good if you stopped it, unless you have a wish to be baked."
By the time the carriages arrived at the Belmonts’ residence, the winter sky had already darkened. The mansion doors were opened at once, and Mr. Belmont was half-carried out of the carriage, looking crumpled in every possible way. Blood had dried at the corner of his mouth, his clothes stained.
"How kind of you, Mason," Mrs. Belmont said breathlessly as the young man helped support her husband inside.
Ruelle noticed Mason’s head tilt upward at the mansion, as if only now realising how far her life had moved from Brackenwell. And then his eyes moved to the entrance, where someone stood waiting.
The human noticed a tall man standing there with his hands in his coat pockets. A black coat rested over his sharp and broad shoulders instead of worn properly. Dark red eyes watched them from the top of the steps, unreadable and cold enough to make Mason pause.
The moment she saw Lucian standing there, something inside her eased. It had barely been hours since he had pinned her against the stall wall, and yet seeing him now made the heat return beneath her skin as though her body had kept the memory warm for him.
But her father’s bloodied face twisted when he noticed Lucian. He spoke through gritted teeth, "I told you he was back!"
Ezekiel’s lips twisted, contempt plain across his bruised face.
"Don’t think I don’t know you had something to do with it," he snapped, his voice hoarse with pain and fury. "I want to see the ministers right away! I’ll tell them exactly how unfit you are to have Ruelle. And her—" his eyes cut sharply to Ruelle, "—breaking the treaty conditions behind closed doors."
"What are you talking about, Harold?" Mrs. Belmont frowned, looking between them.
"He had the debt collectors beat me!" Ezekiel barked, trying to push himself up but grimacing when pain shot through his ribs. "He wants me dead!"
Mrs. Belmont’s eyes slid towards Lucian, suspicion flickering in them. Could it be possible? The last time, he had broken her husband’s hands.
Ruelle caught the way her stepmother looked at them in doubt. Her eyes then moved to where Lucian stood unbothered by the words. His gaze rested on her father the same way one might look at a barking animal behind a cage. Then he spoke,
"I understand we have had our differences. But that is quite the accusation. Especially when all I have been doing is bringing back your second daughter, Caroline. We finally were able to find her."
"Oh—that’s good news!" relief washed over her stepmother’s face and her hand flew to her chest. "Can I see her once she returns?"
"Once the formalities are done," Lucian replied and Mrs. Belmont nodded, having forgotten what her husband accused him of.
Mrs. Belmont then said, "Don’t take my husband’s words to heart, son-in-law. The debt collectors must have hit his head too hard."
Lucian gave a slight nod, and then turned in the direction of his coachman. "Claude, bring the physician... and inform Carnifex that his presence has been requested by Mr. Belmont."
At those words, Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed. With his belongings found on Harold Belmont’s corpse, it was not hard to believe the Slaters had arranged this.
Ruelle watched her parents disappear down the corridor into the room with the help of the guards. But before she could look away, Mason appeared before her and opened his mouth.
"Where are your gloves?" Lucian murmured as he came to stand behind her and leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder. "The weather hasn’t softened enough for you to be walking around bare-handed."
"I didn’t find them this morning
Ruelle felt heat climb up her skin once again and she replied, "I misplaced them. I couldn’t find them before we left."
Lucian hummed while his hand slid over hers, turning her bare fingers in his palm as though checking how cold they were. He remarked, "I’ll have Noah send you a new pair."
Ruelle was about to reply when her eyes fell on Mason. The same time, the warmth in Lucian’s eyes disappeared at the sight of the male in the room.
"Are you waiting for permission to leave?" Lucian asked the human.
"You don’t know me. I’m Mason Webb," Mason introduced himself as his eyes lingered on the pureblooded vampire’s hand around Ruelle. "I am from Brackenwell as well and I was—"
"Ruelle never mentioned you," Lucian’s words interrupted the man and his hand tightened around Ruelle. Heat climbed into her face with how easily Lucian could make people disappear with words.
The confident expression on Mason’s face changed.
Lucian turned away as though bored already. He walked to the chest of drawers nearby, opened it, and pulled out one of the wedding cards. When he offered it, he said,
"I hope you’ll attend and bring your family to our wedding."
Mason stared at the invitation and his mouth tightened. For the first time, the truth seemed to fully sink in. He bowed stiffly and left without another word.
Ruelle felt Lucian continue to hold her, and she said, "That man, he was—"
"He was a worthless nobody," came the words from Lucian.
Ruelle turned to look at him and she shook her head with a smile. But the smile didn’t stay long as worry came to fill her. She whispered, "My father knows... He is going to tell the ministers." Perhaps they had been too hasty.
"Let him speak. All it will do is expose how eager he is to see the treaty fail," Lucian’s thumb moved over the back of her hand in a slow stroke, grounding her before she could drift too far into her thoughts.
When the physician arrived to tend to Mr. Belmont, the man suddenly jerked back and snapped, "I don’t want anyone touching me. I just want to rest."
Ezekiel’s body was rigid beneath the blanket. The last thing he needed was for someone to look too closely and realise he wore a dead man’s skin.
"Your wounds can turn septic, Mr. Belmont," the physician said patiently, the magnifying glass still in one hand while the other held a cotton swab dipped in medicinal liquid.
Ruelle stood by the wall, silent. Every now and then, her father’s eyes flickered to her and then to Lucian.
When the physician went close to treat an injury, her father swatted the man’s hand for the swab to fall on the ground.
"I said stay away," her father growled.
"Mr. Belmont," Lucian’s voice cut through the room. He stood near the foot of the bed, one gloved hand resting lightly against the carved post as if none of this concerned him. "You’re making this unnecessarily difficult. We’re trying to help you. Your family is worried."
Lucian’s hand lifted and rested on Mrs. Belmont’s shoulder. For a brief second, the woman stiffened, almost as though the weight of his hand alone had startled her.
"Perhaps we shouldn’t force him. If Mr. Belmont wishes to refuse treatment until the ministers arrive."
In the meantime, the physician had fished another bottle from his bag.
"But the physician is right," Lucian stated. "Infections spread quickly and it would be unfortunate if it reached your limbs. Amputation would be unpleasant."
The room went quiet instantly, and as the physician who was fiddling with the vial he had fished out was watching the men stare down, the liquid slipped and fell on the man’s open wound.
It did not take long before two courthouse carriages came to a halt in front of the Belmont residence. Out stepped Elder Minister Carnifex, followed by Minister Sylvan and Minister Gaile.
The moment Carnifex entered the house, he looked thoroughly displeased.
"When I chose the Belmont family for this treaty," the older vampire said, brushing snow from his shoulders, "I did not expect it would drag me out of my chambers this often." His eyes swept the room. "How did this happen?"
Lucian stood near the fireplace, and he said, "I believe Mrs. Belmont can explain better," he glanced at the woman. "She was present."
Carnifex turned. "Go on."
Mrs. Belmont began, "Minister... my family and I returned to visit the village we used to live in. My husband was attacked by debt collectors there."
Carnifex’s eyes shifted to Lucian, as if the answer naturally circled back to him. But Lucian met the look without flinching and he replied,
"I offered to settle Mr. Belmont’s debts. He refused. He seemed rather determined to clear them himself."
Minister Sylvan suggested with a faint smile, "Then perhaps we should hear from the man himself. He would know best what truly happened."
Of course, Ruelle thought to herself and felt her stomach tighten.
"Lead us," Carnifex ordered.
Mrs. Belmont nodded quickly and guided them through the corridor. The closer they got to the room, the heavier her stomach felt. Would the ministers believe an old man who had been beaten? Lucian walked next to her and seeing his composed expression, she told herself everything would turn out fine.
When they reached the room, Mrs. Belmont turned the knob and pushed the door open. The hinges creaked and she stepped inside. Ruelle frowned on catching the sheets crumpled with far more blood than when they had left it.
"Harold?" Mrs. Belmont called, but Mr. Belmont was nowhere to be seen.
Elder Minister Carnifex frowned, asking, "Where did he go?"
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