Claimed by the Prince of Darkness novel Chapter 54

Chapter 54: A Pinprick of Fear

The dining hall doors groaned as they swung shut behind Ruelle and Hailey, swallowing the lingering chatter within.

The rain from the previous evening had not stopped. It pattered softly against the stone pathways, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and candle wax from the candle holders lining the walls. The cold clung to her skin, slipping beneath her sweater as she pulled it tighter around herself.

As they turned the corner, she caught movement of a blurry figure lingering at the forest’s edge. But the next second the figure vanished. Her steps faltered. Had she imagined it? It was probably the shadows playing tricks at night.

"—if I fail the Cultural Studies test tomorrow, I swear, I’ll throw myself into the lake," Hailey declared dramatically, flinging her arms up. "Mr. Lundy has it out for me. I just know it."

Ruelle hummed absentmindedly in agreement, her gaze lingering on the spot where the figure had vanished.

"Are you even listening to me?"

She turned to find Hailey squinting at her in suspicion, arms now crossed.

"You are making that face again," her friend accused.

Ruelle blinked. "What face?"

"The one where it looks like your soul has left your body to go on a very long journey."

A small laugh left Ruelle. "Not too far," she assured her, before adding, "Mr. Lundy wants everyone to fail tomorrow. Fewer students make for lighter grading. I’ll keep the boat ready for us."

She forced a smile at Hailey’s teasing, but her thoughts were already slipping elsewhere—back to last night’s conversation.

My mother was murdered by humans.

She had replayed those words too many times, trying to understand. How could a lord’s wife be murdered?

Lucian was not a person who wore grief the way others did. He did not let it weigh his shoulders or tremble in his voice. Instead, it had hardened into something else entirely. His hatred was not a wound that bled—it was a scar that would never fade.

And right now, it was justified.

Yet something about it unsettled her.

She barely noticed when they wandered past the main building until Hailey looped their arms together and tugged her forward.

"I miss home more than usual today," Hailey murmured, her voice quieter now. "And to think we still have another week before we can return."

Ruelle tilted her head slightly. "You sound like you haven’t written to them in a while."

"Oh, I have," Hailey sighed. "But I haven’t received a response so far. It is just that every time it rains, we huddle before the fireplace. Mother would massage my head, and I’d fall asleep right there."

A faint smile touched Ruelle’s lips. "That sounds... peaceful."

"It is." Hailey’s expression softened. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she asked, "What about you, Ruelle? Looking forward to going home?"

The question was light, but there was something careful about the way Hailey said it.

Ruelle didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze flickered down to the cobblestones, then back up. She smiled.

"Of course. I haven’t seen them since Caroline got married. Ezekiel mentioned a family dinner."

"Oh, I see..." Hailey nodded, but Ruelle caught the flicker of doubt in her expression.

Before she could ask more, a commotion ahead caught their attention.

Ruelle followed Hailey’s gaze and saw servants carrying furniture—heavy, expensive-looking pieces. Chairs, cabinets, even a large wooden desk.

"Looks like they’re preparing a room," Ruelle murmured, watching as a servant carefully manoeuvred a velvet-upholstered chair through the doorway.

As they stepped closer, they overheard two servants passing by.

"—make sure the room is spotless. The prince will be arriving in less than two weeks, and there shouldn’t be any mishaps," one muttered.

"What’s the prince coming here for?" another servant whispered.

"Who knows? Mr. Oak wants to make sure everything is to the prince’s liking before he arrives."

The conversation faded as the servants disappeared inside. Hailey let out a slow breath. "Did you hear that? The prince!"

Ruelle raised her eyebrows slightly. "You sound excited."

"I am! We will be in the presence of greatness," Hailey whispered dramatically.

"Don’t let the Elites hear you. They won’t take it lightly," Ruelle chuckled before quickly looking at the corridor to make sure there wasn’t any Elite to hear it.

Hailey sighed dreamily. "Can you blame me? He is a prince. Can you imagine how he looks?"

"Like a regular person, I assume," Ruelle hummed thoughtfully.

Hailey gasped, clutching her chest. "I am sure he is handsome!"

Ruelle shook her head, but the truth was, she was curious too. What business did a prince have at Sexton? And why did it feel like the entire academy was preparing for something far bigger than a simple royal visit? Was he coming here to see how the establishment was run? Or was there another reason?

"Any chance you have caught a glimpse of him in the past?" Hailey asked curiously, forgetting they had to get back to studying.

"Fortunately or unfortunately, I have not," Ruelle shook her head. She then said, "My family hasn’t mingled with the Elites, less the King and his children."

"That’s a shame," Hailey sighed in disappointment. "I can only imagine the women going crazy over this news! Just think about it. The competition is going to be bad. Once the prince arrives, all the girls will want to earn his favour. Maybe one of us can be his bride!"

"I doubt he’ll be interested in any of that?" Ruelle responded.

"But Sexton’s full of women trained in elegance and seduction. Of course, he’d want a wife—or at least a lover! One can only dream of it now!" Hailey said in giddiness as her excitement bubbled.

Ruelle couldn’t stop chuckling. She encouraged her friend, "Maybe this is why you should study harder for tomorrow’s test. I can only guess the prince would want someone who is well versed with the cultural studies."

Hailey gasped with motivation. "You’re right. I should focus. Marrying a prince would be quite the accomplishment." Then, as if a thought struck her, she narrowed her eyes at Ruelle. "But wait—what about you?"

"What about me?" Ruelle asked as they continued walking.

"You should aim for the prince too," Hailed decided.

"I think I am fine," Ruelle replied.

Ruelle and Hailey exchanged a glance.

"Anyway, I need to study for tomorrow. See you two in the morning," and with that, Kevin turned on his heel, walking off from there.

"When you think about it... the male humans have it rough," Ruelle remarked, watching Kevin’s figure disappear in the dark end of the corridor.

Once Ruelle returned to her room, she went through her knitting box, she picked up the small needle between her fingers.

She could do it. She tried to tell herself that as she clenched her jaw. She hated needles. Walking towards the mirror, she came to stand before it. She inhaled, gathering her nerve. It’ll be over in a second. One quick pinch, and then it would be done!

Stepping closer, she tucked her hair behind her ear, her fingers trembling slightly. The needle glinted under the candlelight.

She positioned the needle to her ear, and felt her head turning dizzy and her breath shortened.

"Push. Push," Ruelle said to herself, but her arms felt stiff.

The more she stared at her reflection, at the sharp glint of the needle, the more the room tilted. She swallowed, forcing herself to press forward, but the sting of panic was already creeping in.

A sudden knock at the door jolted her, sending the needle clattering to the floor.

Before she could react, the door creaked open. Lucian stood in the doorway, red eyes gleaming in the dim candlelight. His gaze swept from the mirror to the needle on the floor, then to her.

There’s still time before the prince arrives—you needn’t rush to impress," Lucian mused, shutting the door behind him. "Shouldn’t you be studying instead?"

Ruelle blinked at him, her breath still uneven from her earlier panic, but his words snapped her out of it slightly. _{frёeωebɳovel.com}

"I’m not waiting for the prince," she muttered quickly.

"What are you doing standing in front of the mirror then?" Lucian asked, a flicker of curiosity threading through his otherwise cool demeanour. He shrugged off his dark cloak, letting it slide off his shoulders before casually dropping it onto the desk.

"It is because of an assignment," Ruelle replied, bending down to pick up the fallen needle from the ground.

Lucian’s gaze flickered to the mirror, then back to her. One brow lifted, as he asked, "In front of the mirror?"

She nodded, her movements small and almost sheepish. Reaching for the velvet box on her desk, she revealed a pair of delicate earrings to him. She explained, "It is for a Seduction Techniques assignment. I need to finish it by noon tomorrow."

Lucian’s gaze moved to her hands as he unbuttoned his cuff, before rolling them up to his elbows. "How long have you been fiddling with it?" he inquired, his tone surprisingly mild.

She pursed her lips, the embarrassment creeping into her voice. "A few minutes...I’m not good with needles."

"Afraid of needles," Lucian hummed.

Under the weight of his icy gaze, she said, "I just—"

"You aren’t able to do it," he remarked.

For a moment, there was silence. Lucian’s expression was hard to read, his eyes half-lidded, seemingly unimpressed with her hesitation. And then, as if the decision had already been made.

"Hand it over."

He said it so effortlessly, as if it was nothing. But Lucian didn’t do favours. Not without a reason. And Ruelle wasn’t sure if she wanted to know what that reason was.