Claimed by the Prince of Darkness-Chapter 141: Debts That Wait

"H–How did you find me?" Mr. Belmont’s voice cracked. He stumbled before going to stand behind the lone armchair as if it could protect him from the pureblooded vampire. "You already took the house. What else do you want from me?!"

Lucian did not respond and instead, he stepped inside the house. The sharp sound of his polished shoes struck the wooden floor, echoing through the living room. Each step seemed louder than the last in the suffocating silence.

He stopped a few steps away from the humans, his eyes resting on Mr. Belmont, calm and unblinking.

Mrs. Belmont offered a deep bow and pleaded, "I don’t know what foolish promise my husband has made you, but we—" She fell silent when Lucian raised his hand slightly without even looking at her. The gesture was small, but it was enough to make her swallow the rest of her words.

"Harold Belmont, you are charged with treason against the Crown and the courthouse," Lucian finally spoke, "you are under arrest."

The room went silent.

"What?" Mr. Belmont whispered, looking as though the ground had vanished beneath his feet.

Mrs. Belmont looked between the two men, her face draining of colour. She whispered, "What...treason?"

"I committed no treason," Mr. Belmont said, his voice rising in panic. "Someone has lied. I am being accused falsely."

Lucian pulled out a rolled parchment and dropped it onto the table. He said, "Perhaps this will refresh your memory."

Mr. Belmont hurried forward and picked it up. His eyes widened as they moved over the first few lines. His mouth fell open in shock and he denied, "This isn’t mine! It is someone else with my name."

"How interesting," Lucian responded dryly. "It is the same signature as the one on the documents you used when you pawned the house."

Not knowing what they were talking about Mrs. Belmont took the parchments from her husband’s hand and her eyes skimmed through them. Half way, her hand began to tremble.

"You signed the treaty knowing the terms. And instead of honouring it, you sent her to Sexton. If I did not know better, Mr. Belmont. I would think you were trying to avoid the treaty altogether. After all, when the war took place," Lucian paused for a brief second, "you disappeared."

"But that was twelve years ago," Mrs. Belmont said carefully. "And after the conflict began, we believed the matter had been abandoned. The courthouse never pursued it, and the other side never came forward. If there is blame, it should not fall on us alone."

Lucian let out a quiet chuckle.

"Is that so? They did not run. They did not hide. And they did not break their word. You did." His eyes returned to Mr. Belmont. He raised his hand slightly. "Take them."

"No!" Mrs. Belmont said immediately with an alarmed expression. "I did nothing. I did not sign anything to be executed!"

But Lucian didn’t care about it. He asked, "When one member of a family commits treason, the punishment rarely concerns that person alone. You should know that."

Mrs. Belmont stared at him with her mouth dry.

"No one came for us," she said quickly. "We were afraid. After the conflict... we thought it had been forgotten. We were trying to protect our daughters. They were frightened. Both of them were frightened of vampires."

Lucian was silent for a moment. Then he questioned, "Is that why you married one daughter to a halfling and sent the other to Sexton? Because they were scared of vampires?" He tilted his head slightly.

The woman’s hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of spending the rest of her life behind bars where sunlight never reached and neither did clean air. She quickly fell on her knees as if in shock and begged, "Please spare us! Harold, say something!" she cried in panic.

Harold Belmont had never thought that the step he had taken to get a position in the courthouse would end up turning against him in time. He gritted his teeth, knowing this person before him had intentionally tried to dig about him! Else, there was no way for anyone to know about this.

Cornered now, Mr. Belmont was forced to bow his head. Also, he didn’t want to break another limb of his where he would have to limp in the dungeon. Begrudgingly, he asked, "What do you want? There must be something that I can give you."

"You once had something that made you worth speaking to. You should have taken better care of it. It was the only thing standing between you and your family’s ruin," Lucian remarked, his eyes scanning the space around him.

Mr. Belmont had begun to sweat even though it was winter. He wiped his palms against his trousers before speaking.

"We are innocent folks and this is all just a bad turn of events. You are from the courthouse. Surely, you must know of a way to get out of it...?"

Lucian watched the man’s face carefully. He could almost see the thoughts forming as if calculating, searching, and weighing what else could be offered, what else could be traded.

It was a look he had seen a few weeks ago. And he knew if Ruelle had not been at Sexton, her father would have sold her. The very thought had black tendrils escape from his body, his corruption spilling on the ground.

Mr. and Mrs. Belmont gasped at the sight of something so unknown that they scrambled away from it.

In a way, things had turned for the best, thought Lucian. Because if the Belmonts hadn’t sent Ruelle to Sexton, he would have never known. He remembered the time when they had crossed paths in the market.

"Alright," Lucian said after a moment, as if reconsidering something. "There may be one way for this matter to be corrected."

Mr. Belmont looked up immediately and Mrs. Belmont stepped closer to the table.

"The treaty you signed twelve years ago still stands. Breaking it is treason. However, there is a difference between deliberate treason and a false declaration made under incorrect information."

Mr. Belmont frowned slightly, trying to follow.

Lucian pulled the parchment closer and tapped a section near the bottom.

"If you sign here, you will be stating that you were acting under the belief that the treaty terms would be renegotiated after the conflict. It will be recorded as a formal clarification. The treaty will be dissolved and replaced with a penalty decided by the courthouse. In other words, the courthouse will only fine you instead of being executed."

Mrs. Belmont quickly asked, "Then the courthouse will not punish us?"

"The courthouse is far more lenient with people who cooperate," Lucian replied calmly. "Especially men who once almost held a position within it. But only if the records show that you came forward and corrected the declaration yourself."

Mr. Belmont looked at the document again. "On the same document? This is the original treaty."

"You know how these procedures work," Lucian stated, and it seemed to hit the human’s pride.

Mr. Belmont’s jaw tightened slightly. "Of course I know how it works. Bring the pen, Megan." Mrs. Belmont quickly placed the ink and quill on the table.

Lucian watched Mr. Belmont sign his name and once it was done, he pulled the document away. Inspecting it for a brief moment, he rolled and placed it in his inner coat.

Mr. Belmont hesitantly asked, "How much time will it take for it to be approved?"

"When the elder minister finds time. It can take weeks," Lucian answered, and he turned ready to leave, when Mr. Belmont questioned,

"Why are you after me?" He had a feeling that the pureblooded vampire would come at him again. He thought the debt collectors were the worst, but the pureblooded vampire standing before him was like a reaper ready to drag his soul through hell.

"Debts don’t disappear, Harold. They wait," Lucian remarked before walking out of the Henleys’ residence, where the door was quick to close behind him.

"Do not mention any of this to Caroline," Mr. Belmont said to his wife. "The girl does not know when to hold her tongue, and the last thing we need is for this to be spoken of at Sexton."

Outside the Henleys’ house, Lucian reached the carriage and Claude opened the carriage door. The coachman asked,

"I thought you were going to send them to the dungeons, Master Lucian."

’Mr. Slater, a report was filed regarding a stolen pendant,’ said the officer. "The description matches the one found near the victim we have been looking at.’

Lucian’s gaze did not change. He heard the officer say, ’The owner of it Mrs. Caroline Henley.’

The Belmonts had always been greedy, but never particularly clever. Lucian doubted their younger daughter was any different. Apparently two of the victims had purchased knitwear from the Belmonts, and June Clifford had been seen leaving their house shortly before her disappearance.

Lucian had not forgotten the smell of rot from that day in class. Even Dane had not been able to find a trail, and it hit a dead end.

"Young master, is the treaty going to be dissolved...?" Claude’s words trailed at what was spoken in the house.

Lucian stepped into the carriage before replying, "I told him what he needed to hear."

Claude frowned slightly. "Then the treaty—"

"—now carries his signature again," Lucian finished calmly. "It is a renewal. He would have known if he had the patience to move past the first three paragraphs."

Back in Sexton’s library, where the lanterns and candles burned brightly, Ruelle sat with Hailey, Edward and Hermes at the table.

"What is the point of studying now, Ruelle, if in the end we are only to be bid on?" Hailey asked, while holding a thick book in her hands.

"Lucian said Sexton always conducts tests during the last week of the bidding. To see what they can still extract before the bidding," Ruelle explained, and she heard Hailey sigh.

Hailey had written to the man she had met at the ball, but so far, there had been no response. In dire times, hope was a cruel thing, but it was often all a person had left. Ruelle reached out and gently patted Hailey’s head.

She realised this would likely be the last week they would all be together, and the thought sat heavily in her chest.

"What if I win the bid on all the three of you and set you free? That should solve it, shouldn’t it?" Edward’s words had both the young women startled.

Hailey raised her head from the table. "Me too, Your Highness?" she asked with a look of surprise.

"Aren’t I generous?" Edward wore a solemn expression before giving a nod.

"Your Highness, you cannot simply set us free," Ruelle said, and a frown settling on his face. "When someone buys a human in Sexton, it gives them a chance to earn. A place to stay. Meals. Work. Stability they did not have before."

"Is that not possible without a buyer?" Edward asked, raising his eyebrows. "To work and earn without belonging to someone?"

Hermes decided to explain before more impulsive decisions would be taken by the prince to which he would have to answer later, "Your Highness, it does not work like that. By setting them free, you would be returning them to nothing, to the same place they were before Sexton. Like Miss Ruelle said, a buyer offers a stable life if he or she decides for it."

Edward seemed to give it a thought, because then he said, "Alright," before questioning Hailey, "What are you good at?"

Hermes blinked, slightly alarmed.

"Ah, I know," Edward said, snapping his fingers as if he had found the solution. "You can serve Ruelle."

Since Edward had already decided to bid for her, Ruelle asked carefully, "And what do you intend to employ me as, Your Highness?"

"My friend, of course," the prince replied. "You would keep me company. Talk with me, dine with me, accompany me when I go out. That sort of thing."

That sounded very similar to what he had proposed the first time, and Ruelle gave him a look. With the way the prince’s eyes kept darting in her direction, she doubted his words. Shifting the attention from her, she said,

"Kevin... he wishes to join the royal guard. Would that be possible? He is a hard-working man."

Edward gave her a nod and he replied, "Consider it to be done."

Ruelle wasn’t sure whether the prince truly meant it but for this night, she would take the hope that was offered to her and her friends future. She replied, "Thank you, Your Highness," and she offered a bow. Seeing this, Hailey quickly followed.

"You saw that, Hermes?" Edward asked, looking rather pleased with himself. "That is how one woos a woman. With generosity."

That much, Hermes understood. But this was not going to end well. He could feel it already. He did not know much about wooing, but he was quite certain woe would follow one of them.

Ruelle parted ways with Hailey when it was time to head in the direction of their own rooms. She made her way through the corridor and noticed the lanterns outside were still burning. Snow drifted from the sky, each flake catching the light for a brief moment before vanishing into the dark.

When she returned to the room, she noticed Lucian had not come back yet, and she found herself wondering if he would return that night.

She picked up the clothes to change, but she didn’t move as her mind returned to what had happened in the infirmary. Her fingers rose to her lips, as if she could still feel the press of his mouth on hers.

His lips had been warm and the look in his eyes...dark, heavy, almost dazed made her stomach twist. Her knees gave way and she sank to the floor, her burning face buried in the clothes in her hands.

Her first kiss.

"I should stop thinking about it," Ruelle murmured. Suddenly getting up, she said, "I should clean the room."

Dropping the clothes on the couch, she began to tidy the room, putting away the books and folding the dresses that had been left carelessly on the chair. As she moved about the room, her eyes fell on the box Lucian had brought from her house.

Picking up the box, she opened it slowly.

The first thing she picked up was a pair of earrings. They were slightly heavy and shaped to resemble small curved tusks. They looked like something a person from the forest would wear.

’I don’t like it!’

Ruelle remembered Caroline’s voice from years ago. Her sister had hated the box and everything in it and had once run out of the room crying when their mother had opened it.

She placed the earrings back carefully. The next thing she picked up was a rough-looking button, dull white in colour. Turning it between her fingers, she murmured to herself,

"Was this father’s button that mother saved?"

She then picked up a comb made from a pale material, light in weight but rough in texture, unlike polished wood. She ran her thumb over its surface before placing it back inside the box.

As she was about to close the lid, her eyes fell on the mirror fixed to the inside of it. A thin crack ran across its surface. She adjusted the box so she could see herself in it. And though the room appeared in the mirror along with the bed and the window, the mirror did not show her reflection.