No amount of stress Ruelle had endured before could measure up to this moment. Her heart paused for the briefest moment, and the edges of her vision began to blur.

King Septimus had just finished speaking, Hermes standing at his side with his head bowed in quiet obedience. Ruelle’s eyes returned to where Lucian was and she realised this was a bad time.

Not here, her mind whispered in panic.

And when Lucian took a step toward her, she took a step back. It was small but he saw it. His gaze stilled before his eyes narrowed.

Ruelle swallowed. She hadn’t meant to step back. Her body had reacted before she could think. She noticed something shift behind his eyes and she knew she shouldn’t have.

She tried to think of how to fix it—when suddenly Edward stepped in front of her, blocking everyone behind him.

"What are you doing here? I’ve been waiting by the carriage this whole time—" He stopped mid-sentence, frowning. "And you were here?"

Ruelle hadn’t moved, her features frozen.

The prince didn’t think about it. He simply reached out, catching her hand and said, "Come, there’s much to be done," and he pulled her away before she could react.

And though Ruelle looked calm on the surface, internally she was freaking out.

Everything felt out of place, but it wasn’t the king that stayed with her. It was the look in Lucian’s eyes. She told herself she would speak to him later, when she returned to the room. The bidding was only tomorrow and—

"Quick. Get in," Edward said, standing next to the carriage.

Ruelle gathered her skirt and stepped. She barely had time to settle before Edward climbed in after her, shutting the door with a firm click. But the carriage did not move.

"Look," the prince whispered. She followed his line of sight and caught one of the royal carriages had already begun to move, rolling past the gates of Sexton. Soon another followed behind it after a few seconds.

"Father sure likes to keep an eye. Let them go ahead. We will have our time without being watched," Edward let out a breath as he muttered.

"I don’t know if this is a good idea," Ruelle muttered, remembering the last time he had been stabbed. She gave him a look and stated, "You’re worse than me."

Edward rolled his eyes with a soft huff. He said, "Don’t say that. I just wasn’t careful last time. This time, I’ve planned it properly, ha." After a pause, he added, "You looked terrified back there and I thought it will help you too. Father must have frightened you the last time you met him."

She could use some time away from King Septimus. It felt as though he followed without moving, present no matter where she turned. Then, as if something crossed her mind, she asked,

"Even if you lose him now, won’t he just find you again? With his abilities... like the mist?"

Edward laughed under his breath, clearly pleased with himself. He said,

"My mother gave me this," he said, lifting his hand and wiggling his fingers where a signet ring rested on his index finger with a black stone. He continued, "See it?" It wipes the trail of whoever wears it and people around it. Father won’t find me that easily. It was made by one of the first-generation witches," he leaned back saying it.

Ruelle’s gaze lingered on the ring. If his mother had needed something like that... she could only imagine what it had been like living under the king.

"Besides, I had a human woman and a male vampire take the other carriage. No one will question it," Edward added with a shrug.

"You put a lot of thought into it," Ruelle murmured and she received a grin from him.

Ruelle looked out through the window. The buildings of Sexton slipped behind the trees disappearing little by little until there was nothing left to see. Her hands tightened in her lap as she tried to steady her breathing. At some point along the way, she had begun to pray to not get into trouble.

They travelled for nearly an hour before the carriage slowed to a stop outside an inn. Edward reached into his coat and pulled out a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, setting them carefully on the bridge of his nose. He asked her,

"Well? How do I look?"

"I can barely recognise you," Ruelle replied with a flat tone.

Edward ran a hand through his hair, pleased. "That good?" and he laughed.

Once they stepped inside the inn, Ruelle noticed it was empty. The air held a faint warmth, the kind that lingered even without a crowd. A man appeared almost at once, bowing quickly. The man then took their orders in a hurry before disappearing back inside, leaving them alone.

As Ruelle looked out the window, she heard Edward say,

"Don’t worry about my father right now... or anything else. Just—" he paused as if searching for the right words, "let these few hours be yours and mine. I want you to feel better."

"I am not worried," Ruelle lied.

Edward frowned and pointed, "You’ve sighed six times since we left Sexton."

She didn’t say anything for a moment before she said, "I’m surprised you know a place like this."

"Pfft, what do you take me for? Of course I know this place—and every other one. I—" he stopped when she gave him a look. "...Alright. I didn’t," he admitted, almost too quickly. "Hermes brought food from here once. He was eating it in the castle and it smelled incredible. So I wanted to see it for myself."

He then leaned forward slightly, and asking, "What about you? Do you have places you like to go to? Or... somewhere you’ve wanted to visit?"

"I don’t think I have one," Ruelle answered after a beat. "Before Sexton, I was always in the village my family lived in. Helping my family. But there were moments when my sister and I would run errands. And if we could, we’d stop to eat something on the way."

Edward’s brows drew together and he muttered, "That sounds... awful."

Ruelle let out a small laugh, replying, "It wasn’t that terrible."

"Hush, you don’t know anything," Edward frowned. At the same time, warm dishes were brought to the table one by one, the faint scent rising between them. He then went on, "I was going to take you back to the fair but I think I have a better place in mind. Though I doubt it matters much, if you’re there."

"Your Highness, are you trying to make me feel bad for refusing you?" Ruelle asked, her voice light.

"Why are you calling me that? It sounds like you’re speaking to my father," he stated, almost offended with a look of disbelief. He corrected,"Edward. Just Edward. And reject is a terrible choice of word. I still have hours to impress you."

Edward wore a confident grin, and he then gestured toward the table, already moving. He said, "Come on. At least let me try before you decide I’ve failed."

Soon, they began to eat. The food was rich and warm. Far better than anything she had tasted in a long while. But even after she was full, the table was still crowded with untouched dishes.

Edward leaned back in his chair, entirely satisfied. "Alright. Next place," he said lightly, pushing himself to his feet. He reached into his coat and dropped a small pouch into the innkeeper’s hands without a second glance.

"But... all of this?" she asked noticing the food.

Edward followed her gaze briefly before shrugging, unconcerned. "You’re full," he pointed out. "Unless you plan on falling ill halfway through the day."

"That’s not what I meant," she said. Without waiting for him, she turned toward the innkeeper and asked, "Could you pack these for us, please?"

Edward wore a mild look of confusion on his face and he asked, "What for? It is going to get cold. We can go always come back to eat here."

When the food was finally packed, Ruelle took the parcel from the innkeeper and stepped outside with Edward close behind. She adjusted her hold on it before glancing at him. She asked him, "Do you want to carry this?"

Edward let out a short laugh, almost as if the suggestion was ridiculous. He responded, "Why would I? I’ve never carried anything in my life. I’ll have the coachman take it."

Before he could reach for the parcel, she moved it away and replied, "No. You carry it."

There was a pause as Edward frowned. He looked like he was deciding whether to argue or not. But then with a huff, he took it from her hands.

"Is this you saying you will make me carry things? What is this little parcel going to do? I am much stronger."

Ruelle only smiled faintly and suggested, "What do you think of a walk?"

Five minutes later, they were walking side by side through the quieter streets of town. The cold had driven most people indoors. Shop doors were half-shut, windows fogged, and only the occasional passerby crossed their path.

Ruelle slowed after a while, looking ahead. She reached out to tug on Edward’s sleeve and said,

"There," jerking her head toward something down the street.

Edward followed her gaze and caught sight of two children playing by the side of the street. Their coats hung loose on them, worn thin and patched over so many times the original fabric was hard to recognise. He watched them for a moment before speaking,

"You want children?"

Ruelle coughed lightly, the question catching her by surprise. She looked down at his hand and instructed,

"Go on. Give it to them." Noticing the look of uncertainty flicker across his face, she asked, "Are you afraid?"

"Who? Me?" Edward gave a short, offended laugh. "They’re barely taller than your shoulder."

With those words, he walked towards them. But his footsteps slowed as he reached their side, suddenly unsure what to do with himself. For a moment, he simply stood there. Then, clearing his throat, he held it out.

The children took it hesitantly and bowed. Edward gave a stiff nod, his ears tinging faintly pink before he turned and made his way back. When he reached her side again, he fixed his expression and remarked,

"You know, I could have had Hermes do that. Or one of the guards."

"But doesn’t it feel... nicer?" Ruelle asked looking at him. "When you do it yourself."

Edward glanced back over his shoulder, watching the children open the parcel, their hands moving quickly, as if afraid it might be taken away.

Then, almost under his breath, he said, "...a little, perhaps."

Ruelle stepped back, already turning away but her shoe slipped against the hardened snow ground. A small gasp escaped her before she could steady herself, but Edward caught her at once, his hand firm around her arm.

Edward looked down at her, a grin slowly forming, "At this rate, I think my charm has something to do with it."

"Those are my weak ankles," Ruelle gave him a small glare.

Edward looked at her for a moment longer before he began, almost thoughtfully, "You know...most people would be quite pleased with this situation. But you look troubled."

Ruelle’s expression settled into something quieter and he watched that shift carefully.

"I kept thinking about it," he went on, slower now, as if piecing his thoughts together. "Why you would look like that when you have every reason not to...and I wondered if it was because you hold someone in your heart," his eyes held hers.

"Do you?" he asked.

Ruelle had never said it out loud... but in the past week, Lucian had begun to occupy her thoughts more than he should have. The lines he had once kept between them had started to blur. And each time she saw him, her heart wavered.

Edward, who was watching, sighed under his breath, the disappointment quiet and his face tightening for a second.

"So... that’s how it is," Edward murmured, the words quieter than before. He questioned her, "Who is it?"

Ruelle took a step back, unsure if she should give the name. And just when she was about to speak, he continued,

"That’s alright. I suppose that doesn’t change much. I still have a few hours. And as far as I can tell... you’re not spoken for yet," he said with a grin. "Let me take you somewhere you will enjoy."

The carriage rolled past the town, the streets thinning until they were on the road again. When it finally came to a stop, Ruelle stepped down and looked up to catch sight of a tall and wide building which was dome-shaped. She had never been here before.

Two guards stood by the entrance and bowed as they passed.

Inside, her eyes moved without pause. The walls were carved and chandeliers hung overhead, their light catching on the polished floor. They handed over their coats and walked further in.

The space opened suddenly to a high dome rose above them, with rows of seats set in a curve. At the far end was a stage, where actors moved across it, going over their lines, while a pianist sat off to the side.

It was a theatre.

"I’m guessing you’ve never been here before," Edward said, glancing at her as they made their way up the stairs. There was a hint of satisfaction in his voice before he asked, "Do you want to see it from the beginning? I can have them—"

"No," Ruelle cut in gently. She stepped into one of the private galleries and took a seat without hesitation. She murmured, "This is fine."

She found herself leaning forward without realising it, her attention fixed on the stage. For a brief moment, the weight she carried seemed to loosen. She didn’t think about the king. Or the guards. Or what waited for her and she just watched.

And while she was lost in it, the prince wasn’t looking at the stage at all. His gaze remained on her.

Edward watched as her expression shift from first surprise and then a frown before a quiet smile settled on her lips. And it was the most beautiful one, more than his. There was a softness to her. Not fragile but unguarded in a way he wasn’t used to seeing.

At first he had only been interested in her. A human who had caught his attention. But somewhere along the way, that had shifted without him noticing. Now, he found himself watching for her reactions. Not wanting them to fade.

And yet right now, a faint bitterness settled in his chest and his lips pursed.

He wondered who it was... who had caught her attention. Maybe someone extraordinary, he thought to himself.

A quiet sigh of dejection slipped from Edward’s lips which drew her attention. Her gaze left the stage as she looked at him. She said,

"You must be bored. We can leave."

"No. Let’s stay a while longer," Edward replied with a smile.

She nodded, her attention drifting back to the stage.

But Edward didn’t follow. His gaze lingered on her instead, as though keeping her here would extend the day endlessly.

Ruelle lost track of time watching them. During that time, Edward spent his time explaining about the play as he had already heard of it. When the actors began to pack their things, Edward let her know,

"We can stay a little longer if you want or we could find something to eat," he added, pulling out his pocket watch and glancing at it. "Though it’s rather late as most places will be closed."

Ruelle shook her head lightly and replied, "I’ll skip it. I’m still full from earlier."

He gave a small nod. They rose from their seats and made their way out.

The carriage ride back was quiet. The prince who rarely stayed silent now sat by the window with his gaze fixed outside as the dark trees passed one after another and neither did she speak.

By the time they arrived at Sexton, the corridors had dimmed, the usual noise gone, leaving behind a silence that only came with the late hour.

"I hope you enjoyed today," Edward said as they stepped down from the carriage.

Ruelle bowed her head and replied politely, "Thank you... for the day."

The prince watched her for a moment as the coachman took the carriage away, then without much warning, he reached for her hands. The gesture caught her off guard. He murmured,

"I’d like to do this again sometime in the future. If you’ll allow it."

Before she could answer, he lifted one of her hands and brushed it with his lips. Looking up, he smiled and said, "Wait here for me. I won’t be long!" And just like that he turned and walked away in a hurry.

"It’s cold," Ruelle murmured, looking up to stare at the dark sky.

Returning to Sexton brought it all the fatigue back. The brief ease she had found earlier slipped away, replaced by the weight she had tried not to think about.

She hoped Edward would speak to the king and more importantly, King Septimus would listen. That he wouldn’t decide otherwise. Wouldn’t turn it into something worse. The thought sat poorly in her stomach. She looked up, noticing the mist drifting slowly across the sky, thick and unmoving. A soft breath left her lips before it disappeared in the air.

When the clock struck, the sound carried through the quiet halls and without meaning to, Ruelle counted.

Midnight. Her fingers curled slightly at her side. She pulled out her scarf off her in thought. Perhaps she could make a quick trip to her room before the prince would return. But when she turned, she heard the echo of footsteps and their weight sounded familiar.

She tensed, the fine hairs on the back of her neck standing on end in the cool night air. She noticed the person emerge out of the shadow, his dark red eyes watching her and his inky black hair ruffling from the wind.

Lucian.

For a moment, he simply stood there where the shadows still clung to him as if reluctant to let him go. There was a darkness behind his eyes held in place, as if kept on a leash.

When she heard Hermes’ voice, her eyes widened in alarm. She whispered, her voice a breathless murmur,

"You shouldn’t be here."

Ruelle wished they could discuss this in a room, but it seemed like she had brought this upon herself this time!

"Shouldn’t I?" Lucian’s voice was a dark caress and she stood there captivated by the danger he exuded like perfume as he made his way closer to where she stood. "I haven’t seen you for the last two days. Not properly," his tone low.

His hand reached out, fingers brushing against the silk of her dress, tracing the trembling outline of her collarbone. "Tell me, were you avoiding me, or perhaps... entertaining other offers?"

Ruelle’s heart raced at his touch, her breaths shallow. But when Hermes’s voice got closer, she declared, "I don’t belong to anyone," but her words faltered.

"A bold claim," Lucian murmured, his breath a tantalising chill against her skin as he leaned in. "Yet here you are, pulse racing, your body tensed as if in anticipation of my touch."

His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her face towards his and her thoughts slipping out of her mind for a moment. The light caught his eyes, revealing a glint of predatory intent. "Or must I remind you whose touch you truly crave?"

He was so close that she was getting intoxicated and words failed her. She swallowed, "I...I can explain..."

But footsteps got closer and Hermes appeared with the guards. A flicker of irritation passed behind Lucian’s eyes at the interruption, yet he hadn’t stepped away from her.

"Miss Ruelle, you have been summoned by the king," Hermes informed with a slight frown looking at them. "Immediately."

Ruelle felt her heart beginning to race out of fear once again, but this time, Lucian caught it. Her fingers clenched tightly as in thought before she asked,

"Will you come along?"

Lucian’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, just long enough to read what she hadn’t said. Then he turned to Hermes and said, "Lead the way."

The seconds that passed as they walked, Ruelle felt like she was going to be sick. Every now and then she glanced towards Lucian, to find him already watching her quietly. As they approached, she heard the king’s voice from outside the room.

"It is not your decision to make. Why would I undo what has already been decided?"

"Because this concerns me. Not your... arrangement. I won’t have you forcing her into it," Edward’s voice followed, edged with frustration. "And why are you so intent on this?"

"Well... looks like we have guests," King Septimus spoke, and soon the guards opened the door to the room.

Hermes stepped in first and then Ruelle followed, Lucian just behind her. The moment they entered, the king’s gaze shifted and settled on Lucian right away. Noticing this, Ruelle’s throat went dry.

Edward, on the other hand, frowned before wondering if Lucian had come to advocate for freedom and his lips pursed.

"Your Highness," Ruelle greeted, lowering into a bow. Not missing a beat, she informed, "As I said before... I do not wish to be the prince’s mistress. Not out of disrespect but because my heart... lies elsewhere. And I hope you might—"

Her steady voice wavered when she lifted her gaze and noticed the king’s eyes narrow "—respect it."

It took Edward a moment before his eyes snapped at Lucian.

"...No," murmured the prince. Then faster in denial and shock, "No. No, no, no—Ruelle." He turned back to her, pointing as if correcting a mistake. "Anyone but him."

But Ruelle’s eyes were focused on King Septimus, who stared at her with intense eyes. Her eyes darted to his hands as if preparing herself for him to move.

"You have some nerve," spoke the king in a low voice that made her uneasy. "After everything I’ve told you. Perhaps the examples weren’t sufficient."

"Did I not tell you to stop with it?!" Edward turned to his father.

Ruelle froze at the king’s threat and she couldn’t move. She had seen the violence and it was going to happen again. But then suddenly, she felt a hand close around hers and Lucian remarked,

"I would prefer you stopped frightening my beloved. It is the least you could do... Uncle."