Claimed by the Prince of Darkness-Chapter 44: Clearance of assumption

Lucian let out a faint sigh, the tension in his stance easing only slightly as he adjusted his cloak with a swift, practiced movement. His eyes remained fixed on Ruelle, his gaze sharp and assessing, as if quietly taking inventory of her dishevelled state.

"Wear your shoes," he instructed, his voice quiet but firm. "Let’s get back. Blake and your friend are still searching for you."

Ruelle blinked, momentarily disoriented, before glancing towards the door where her shoes lay haphazardly on the floor. She bent down to pick them up, while noticing how his gaze never wavered. When she glanced back at him, his expression remained unreadable, a hint of scrutiny lingering in his eyes. He didn’t move.

"Is... something wrong?" she asked hesitantly, feeling a shiver run down her spine under his unyielding stare.

But Lucian didn’t respond. His gaze lingered, drifting slowly downward. She followed it and froze, realising with a start that the top buttons of her blouse had come undone. A deep blush crept up her cheeks as she hurriedly fumbled to fasten them, her fingers trembling slightly from both the cold and residual fear.

"Sorry, I didn’t—" she began, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn’t know when that happened." Her words faltered as she avoided his gaze, focusing instead on steadying her own shaky hands. She couldn’t help but feel vulnerable in front of him, but she kept her head down.

She glanced up again, catching Lucian’s gaze briefly before he looked down to her bare feet with a slight, almost faint crease of disapproval between his eyebrows.

"Your shoes. Wear them properly," he muttered, his voice low. "Sexton isn’t a place where one can wander barefoot. Especially a Groundling."

Why not? The floors were always sparkling clean. Ruelle hesitated, feeling her embarrassment deepen, before nodding and sliding her feet into her shoes, still fumbling with the buckles in her nervousness. "I can walk just fine," she murmured, attempting a note of independence.

Lucian’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he spoke in a tone that was quiet but unmistakably stern. "If you could walk ’just fine,’ you wouldn’t have spent half the night locked away in a cupboard." He watched her with a mixture of exasperation and cool detachment. "Now, finish with the shoes."

The firmness of Lucian’s words left little room for argument, and Ruelle quickly secured her shoes, though her face flushed in discomfort under his steady gaze. They started down the corridor, and for a while, silence hung between them, the only sounds being the rumble of constant thunder. She touched her cheeks, feeling the coldness where the tears had earlier streaked down. She looked at the back of Lucian’s head, full of dark hair from behind.

"Thank you for looking for me," Ruelle finally said, breaking the silence with a careful voice.

Lucian’s expression didn’t change. "I did it for my brother. Dane can be quite annoying," he replied, his tone calm and detached, as if explaining a simple fact. "He left you in my care, seemingly to avoid trouble. It would be ironic if you managed to find it while in my room, of all places."

Ruelle nodded, biting back a small, uneasy smile. She knew he hadn’t meant it personally, but the fact he had gone out of his way to search meant more to her than she dared express. Despite his distant demeanour, he had been the one to pull her out of the dark space while she had felt so helpless.

They continued to walk, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the rain. "I thought of informing your husband about you missing and not back in the room, but time was short," Lucian remarked without looking at her, his tone remaining even and indifferent. "You should report the trouble you face. That way, he can keep an eye on things. One would think he would notice your clumsiness by now."

Ruelle’s steps faltered, and she looked up at him, startled. She repeated, her confusion evident,

"Husband?" When did that happen?

Lucian’s gaze shifted to her, a single eyebrow arching in cold amusement. He said flatly, "Your memory is worse than I thought. I’m talking about Henley. Isn’t he your husband?"

Ruelle felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. "Oh, no," she stammered, realising the misunderstanding. "Henley’s my brother-in-law. He is married to my sister."

Lucian’s brow furrowed, irritation flickering across his features. He asked, "Then why would you imply otherwise earlier this week?"

"When did I say I had a husband?" Ruelle asked, wracking her brain for any mention she had made.

A faint glare entered Lucian’s eyes, and she scrambled to remember. Finally remembering, she exclaimed, "Oh! I didn’t mean that. My sister just got married ten days ago. I really don’t have a husband...."

Lucian’s gaze remained cool, though he tilted his head slightly, studying her with quiet suspicion. "Then what was the secret you asked me to keep?" His tone was mild, but his eyes held a spark of irritation.

So Lucian wasn’t aware about Ezekiel hugging her? She couldn’t help but be internally relieved. Thank God!

"Mr. Ezekiel didn’t want it known that I’m his sister-in-law. He is teaching Seduction Techniques, and he was worried people might think..." she explained, her voice quiet.

Lucian didn’t respond immediately, his expression remaining as impassive as ever. Though he didn’t comment, he muttered, "So that’s the reason."

The silence stretched between them once again. Though, the storm raged outside and though the corridor was dark, she was no longer as scared as before. By the time they reached their room door, Lucian turned to study her with a mix of detachment and something unreadable. He then abruptly said,

"I’ll inform Blake and your friend," he said, his voice clipped and businesslike, "so they’ll stop searching and fretting." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply on his heel, his cloak sweeping behind him as he strode down the corridor, leaving Ruelle standing alone, watching him disappear into the shadows.