[Music Recommendation: It’s a Girl - Johannes Lehniger]

—

Ruelle felt her hands grow cold, which spread through her body, until even her breath turned short. This couldn’t be happening, she thought to herself. It didn’t feel real, and yet when her gaze dropped, it was there, the dark stain of blood smeared on the ground. Her stomach turned from worry.

For a moment the room seemed to tilt, the walls too far and yet too close at once and she could not tell if it was the metallic smell of blood or the silence that pressed harder against her chest.

She needed to say something, anything before her fate would be sealed.

"My king, I do not wish to be the prince’s mistress. I had already conveyed this to him, and he accepted it," Ruelle said, forcing the words out before they could falter.

King Septimus did not respond immediately though his gaze remained on her. Then, slowly, his head tilted as he asked,

"Are you unaware that a king’s word is final or do you simply believe it does not apply to you?"

Ruelle stepped aside, moving away from where the blood had trailed before she lowered herself to her knees. She immediately bent forward, her forehead touching the ground.

"I did not mean to offend you. I only beg that you reconsider... please," she pleaded, the words coming quicker than she intended. Her fingers pressed against the cold stone floor. "There are others who would accept it willingly. Many who would want what you are offering."

When King Septimus chuckled, Ruelle lifted her head without meaning to. The sound did not ease anything. She heard him say,

"Edward has never taken an interest in any person. Nor has he ever asked anything of me. So no, others are of no concern. You should consider yourself fortunate. You will suit him."

"But I do not wish for this," Ruelle replied, the words tightening as they left her and she noticed him narrow his eyes. "Would it not be better... for the prince to have someone who returns the same interest as his?"

But King Septimus clicked his tongue as if in distaste. He stated,

"You speak too freely for someone who was not meant to leave this room alive. Putting the prince in harm’s way. Do not mistake circumstance for permission and do not forget your position, woman," his words were sharp. He then said, "Sexton appears to have grown careless in what it teaches its humans about how easily a life may be lost. Almost makes it seem you were raised sheltered."

The king then called without raising his voice, "Hermes. You have failed in your duty. Edward does as he pleases, and you allow it. And now the human mistakes me for him. She believes she may refuse my orders. You should correct it, yes?"

The attendant replied curtly without looking up, "Yes, my king."

"Remove your shoe and sock," King Septimus ordered, his deep voice filling the room.

Ruelle stared at the king at his odd order. Remove it? For a moment, it didn’t make sense. Her thoughts stalled before she felt a similar dread she had felt in the pit of her stomach.

Hermes did not hesitate. He removed his left shoe, then the sock, his movements quick as he revealed the pale foot. For a moment nothing happened, but the next second King Septimus didn’t even lean forward, but his hand shifted as it elongated and morphed into sharpened metal. The motion was swift and with one clean strike, the attendant’s big toe was severed.

Her eyes widened in horror, blood draining from her face as she noticed another toe sliced out with blood spilling.

Hermes didn’t make a noise or move as if it would warrant something far worse.

"...stop!" Ruelle said, her voice unsteady. "Please... he’s done nothing—don’t hurt him!"

But the king did not stop. The third toe was severed as cleanly as the first two as though her voice had not reached him at all. Hermes’s body trembled despite his effort to remain still, his breath breaking under control he could barely keep.

"Edward has never been one to remain within the castle. Especially after his mother’s death," King Septimus said, his voice unchanged and calm. He paused before continuing, "But this will please him. I do not wish to see him displeased and I would hate for another rift to appear between us."

The king’s gaze returned to fall on her.

Ruelle’s breath trembled, unable to steady itself. Her hands would not stop shaking, the feeling in her chest tightening until it felt as though there was no space left to breathe.

She had never asked anything from the prince, had never wanted anything from him. It had only been... what it always was. Conversation. Passing time like with the others. Nothing that should have led here. She couldn’t bring herself to utter another word at the fear of Hermes being punished for her refusal.

"You may go and join your friends," King Septimus said. "I trust our conversation requires no further explanation."

He did not wait for a response as he stepped out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, while leaving a frightened Ruelle still on the ground. She felt what little control she had slip.

The guards moved forward and began to lift the lifeless bodies as though they weighed nothing, gathering the heads that had rolled. Servants followed soon after to clean what had been left behind.

Hermes said nothing as he wrapped his kerchief around what remained of his foot, his movements tight yet careful.

"I...I am sorry..." Ruelle whispered with guilt soaking her mind. Her gaze dropped to his foot, where the handkerchief darkened. "I didn’t mean to—get you—"

"It is not your fault," Hermes said, managing a faint smile as he covered his foot.

How could she not... Given it was wrong for the debt collectors to chase after her, the main fault lay in her father’s habits.

"I told him," she said, her voice quivering. "I told him I didn’t want this. He said he understood."

Hermes’s lips pursed, half in pain and half from what happened. He hesitantly replied,

"Please do not be displeased with His Highness..." He paused for a second and added, "I have known the prince since he was seven and he has never asked the king for anything after his mother’s death. The king chose to act on it of his own accord with the information in the first letter."

Ruelle pushed herself to her feet when one of the servants moved closer to clean where she had been sitting. Her limbs felt weak.

Her throat felt dry when she asked, "Where is the powder room...?"

"Take Miss Ruelle to the powder room," Hermes ordered the servant.

The servant bowed, his face giving nothing away as he moved toward the doors.

Ruelle followed. She was about to step out, when Hermes’ voice reached her,

"Miss Ruelle—"

She stopped and turned to look at the attendant who wore a grim expression. He said, "I understand it is not what you want. But please heed the king’s words. Especially at Sexton." He bowed, the gesture deeper than before.

A moment later it struck her that Hermes had witnessed Lucian kiss her.

On the way, Ruelle’s stomach twisted again, the memory returning without warning. The king’s ability she had never heard about, the blood spraying and spilling, the sound she could not unhear. The king’s voice followed it, ’You will be his mistress. That is your reward.’

Her footsteps did not slow, but the corridor narrowed in a way that made it harder to breathe, the walls pressing closer with each step as though there was less and less room left for her to exist within it.

Upon arriving at the powder room the servant left, and Ruelle burst through the doors, already moving toward the basin while the doors gently closed behind her. Soon, her trembling hands found the edge of the basin, gripping it tight and the next second whatever she had eaten that morning forced its way up.

She did not stop even when there was nothing left, her breath uneven as she held on to the cold basin like it was the only thing keeping her from slipping further.

When she finally lifted her head, she noticed her pale face staring back at her in the mirror. Turning the faucet, the sound of water filled the silence as she splashed it over her face again and again as if she would wake up from a bad dream.

Water ran down her skin, dripping from her chin, soaking into the front of her clothes. When she reached for her handkerchief in her pocket, her fingers brushed against the small bag she had bought at the fair.

Her fingers moved to it without thinking, loosening it just enough to check. It was still there—the bracelet with purple crystals that she had bought for Dane.

Something else moved in the bag with a soft clink. Ruelle reached in, her fingers closing around it before she drew it out, the black onyx pendant that was cold against her skin, the silver chain slipping between her fingers.

’The man you will end up with is a prince.’

Was it true...? Ruelle’s eyes closed as she gripped the pendant with water still dripping from the line of her jaw. But if it was fate... then why did her heart ache?

When the door to the powder room opened, Ruelle turned away from the entrance quickly, pushing the chain back into the cloth bag before slipping it inside her coat. Soon Hailey appeared, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You’re here! Kevin and I thought you were still with the king, the way he called you away," Hailey said, stepping in with her voice light. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to speak about the debt collectors... about punishing them," Ruelle said, her voice heavier than it should have been. "Edward was stabbed after all. It was about that."

When she turned, Hailey’s brows pulled together at once. She asked, "Ruelle... are you alright? You don’t look well. Did he scold you?"

"What? No," Ruelle said, forcing a smile. Her hand tightened around the edge of the basin as she told herself that she could not say anything.

And for a brief moment, the thought passed on how it would have been better if they had never grown close at all... If Hailey and Kevin had remained nothing more than passing acquaintances, then maybe misfortune wouldn’t follow them because of her.

When Hailey looked at her with suspicion, Ruelle replied, "King Septimus wasn’t pleased. He made that... very clear by punishing the men."

"I am guessing it wasn’t a nice thing to see," Hailey frowned before patting Ruelle’s back. "Your body feels ice-cold and you are shivering," and she pulled back.

"I think something I ate at the fair didn’t agree with me. I threw up," Ruelle explained, managing a small smile.

"It must be because of the king," Hailey whispered, lowering her voice as if someone might overhear. "It wasn’t your fault. Things like that, they happen, and Edward should have noticed instead of talking..." she muttered the last words.

While Kevin was taken to where the guards trained, Ruelle and Hailey were led to the gardens by Edward, just as he had promised to show the beauty of the rarest flowers. But the moment they arrived at the place, the prince’s expression fell.

"Looks like winter struck the castle too..." Hailey said, only for Edward to send her a look that made her quickly turn her gaze upward.

There wasn’t a single flower left. What should have been filled with colour was gone, buried beneath the weight of snow that dragged the branches low.

Too caught in her thoughts, Ruelle stood quietly, her gaze resting on the garden without truly seeing it. Edward, noticing this, remarked,

"You always manage to find something worth looking at even when there isn’t much left."

"I was lost in thought," Ruelle admitted.

"What were you thinking about?" Edward asked, tilting his head.

’Of how your father would not hesitate, not with me, not with anyone I care about, if I so much as went against his order of being your mistress,’ is what Ruelle wanted to say. But the king had eyes and ears everywhere... Instead she said,

"The castle feels very quiet. I thought there would be more people here. I mean your family."

Edward’s gaze shifted to her for a moment before returning to the cold garden ahead. He replied,

"Something like that. You saw how my father is... he has a way of holding on that makes it difficult to stay." A faint breath left him before he continued, "It can feel... heavy here. Most don’t remain longer than they have to. Even his own family prefers distance."

As they continued along the edge of the garden, Ruelle heard Edward say, "I had one of the best days today. I’ve never been to anything like that before. And though it was a little stuffy, I still enjoyed it. We should do it often," he looked genuinely pleased with a touch of innocence on his face.

Ruelle saw how easily the prince said it, untouched by what had happened, by what had been decided without him even knowing and her hands clenched at her sides.

"I think the hit and target shop will need to shut down or you will have to sponsor them," Hailey joked lightly, to which the prince rolled his eyes.

"He should be happy that I even graced his shop with my presence," Edward replied, casually.

"By the way, where did the doll go that Ruelle won?" Hailey asked.

"I think it was left behind at the fair when we went to find the non-existent mother," Ruelle replied unbothered by the thought of it as she had other pressing matters.

But Edward seemed concerned about it as he responded, "I will have the guards go and look for it. You did win it by your hard work!"

"You don’t have to trouble yourself with it. It must have been picked by a child who will treasure it better," Ruelle offered a slight smile. And as they walked, her eyes fell on the carriage they had travelled in here. She asked, "Are you bad at aims?"

"Huh? Did you not see me hit them all?" Edward asked her.

"I think the word you are looking for is break, Your Highness," Hailey snickered and Edward’s ears turned pink.

Ruelle noticed Claude turn in their direction, where he stood in the same spot as she had last seen him. She forced a smile at Hailey’s remark and said, "She is right."

"Aren’t you two being a little brave? It seems you want to be beheaded." Edward’s eyes narrowed before he explained, "I have an excellent aim, I just have trouble with holding back and releasing my strength."

"We should make sure to test it again," Ruelle smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes and it quickly faded the moment Claude’s figure disappeared behind the bushes.

"We shall. One of the servants mentioned they caught a deer during the morning hunt. Dinner will be a feast, particularly today as I have asked the cook to prepare all the best things," Edward said, lifting his hands to rest behind his neck.

Ruelle pursed her lips before asking, "Would it be alright if we returned to Sexton by night?"

"Huh? But we have deer for dinner," Edward frowned slightly.

"It is just that I feel a little tired from the weather and the fair," Ruelle answered, her tone gentle but firm. "I would prefer to return... and rest in my own bed."

"There are more than enough rooms in the castle. You all can stay. It isn’t often I have people over," Edward said, scratching the back of his neck.

At the same moment, Ruelle felt an overbearing gaze and her eyes rose. She caught sight of King Septimus standing behind one of the tall windows, holding a glass of blood in his hand. Watching them.

Edward didn’t seem to notice as he continued to advocate, "Not to mention, don’t you sleep on the couch? A bed here would be far more comfortable."

A reckless part of her would have run towards the carriage and fled. Maybe flee alone too... But then she saw Kevin appear next to the king, talking before he bowed deeply.

"What’s Kevin doing with the king?" Ruelle’s question slipped out of her lips.

Edward and Hailey followed Ruelle’s line of sight, and Edward guessed, "Father must have decided to hire him within the castle."