Ruelle soon found herself in the maze with a flickering lantern in her hand. The night air was thick with the scent of damp earth, mingled with something older, more primal, the kind of scent that clung to ancient forests.
Each step was accompanied by the soft crunch of leaves beneath her worn out shoes. Every rustle of nearby bushes, every distant hoot of an owl, sent her heart skittering in her chest. The maze felt different at night—alive, as though it watched her every move. The lantern's glow bounced off the hedge walls, the flickering light warping the shadows, making everything feel closer, more suffocating.
"The chain should be somewhere here," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her mind replayed the memory of her earlier collision with June, the moment where she might have lost the locket. But nothing.
Disappointment gripped Ruelle as her fingers brushed the neckline of her dress. She longed for the familiar weight of her mother's chain and locket—the familiar presence that should have rested there, close to her heart.
She crouched once more, her hands sifting through leaves. But what she received was a low growl in the dark, which had her almost dead in her tracks as she froze. W—What was that?!
A rustle softly moved from the other side of the foliage wall, and Ruelle didn't dare to move in fear. Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes darting as the rustle moved closer to her. On the second growl, it had her running through the maze, trying to leave. But the moment she was about to reach the exit, a growl was heard from the front in darkness, having her turn around.
Fear flooded her senses, and before she could think, her legs propelled her forward. She began running, the lantern swaying wildly in her hand, throwing chaotic shadows onto the walls of the maze. The sound of something large moving behind her quickened, its growls sending chills down her spine. The creature was hunting her!
Ruelle continued to run, which felt like an endless maze to the point she was getting familiar with a few foliage in there. Her breath came in ragged gasps, feet stumbling over uneven ground. She turned sharply until she paused and found a corner when the rustling sounds stopped. The world plunged into eerie silence, broken only by her labored breathing.
She glanced around, wide-eyed, searching for any sign of the creature. Her eyes remained fixed on the path, waiting, listening for any sign of movement. Minutes passed—maybe hours. She wasn't sure. The weight of her fear and exhaustion were quick to press down on her.
She tried to stay awake, to remain alert for the creature lurking somewhere in the darkness. But as the silence of the maze deepened, the weight of her exhaustion became too much to fight. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she sank deeper into the foliage.
And before she knew it, she fell asleep.
The first rays of dawn slanted through the twisted branches of the maze, dappling the ground with soft golden light. Ruelle stirred, at the rustle of the ground, the faint sound of footsteps—loud and deliberate.
"Ruelle! I found you!"
Blinking blearily, Ruelle squinted up at the figure looming over her. Hailey's voice broke through the fog of sleep, and Ruelle slowly gathered her bearings, the cold morning air biting at her skin far more sharply than the night before.
"Hailey?" she asked groggily, pulling herself into a sitting position.
"I waited for you, but you never came back and then I fell asleep." Hailey's voice was a mixture of relief and exasperation. "I was worried you'd gotten caught by some vampiress. I had no idea you'd fallen asleep in the maze!"
Ruelle accepted Hailey's outstretched hand, brushing off the leaves from her dress as she stood. "I didn't mean to worry you… I didn't find the locket."
Hailey's expression softened. She placed a hand on Ruelle's shoulder. "Sorry to hear that, Ruelle. Maybe we can look for it after classes?"
Ruelle nodded. Remembering the night before, she couldn't help but look around as they made their way out of the maze in silence.
Miles away, two men sat comfortably in a lavish study, the scent of blood tea filling the air. Across from Ezekiel Henley sat Mr. Lorenzo Helsing, an influential figure in the high court. The room radiated elegance, with its dark polished wood and grand bookshelves lining the walls.
"Weekend, is it?" Lorenzo said, taking a satisfied sip from the delicate porcelain cup. "I'll certainly not miss it. It's fortuitous timing—Count Westerling is passing through, and he may very well be intrigued enough to attend the wedding. If you make the right impression, he might offer you a seat in the court even faster."
Ezekiel leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a pleased smile. "The Belmonts and I would be more than happy to host him and you in our celebration."
Lorenzo nodded approvingly. "True, and I must say, the way you've offered support to the Belmont family—it is admirable. The woman must have been beside herself with worry, to beg you to marry one of her daughters."
Ezekiel lifted his teacup, the warmth spreading through his fingers as much as the satisfaction of weaving this narrative. "I simply couldn't turn a blind eye to their plight," he said softly, playing the role of the benevolent benefactor. "It's only right we help where it's needed most."
Ezekiel didn't believe Lorenzo needed to know that the Belmonts had never begged. He had been the one to offer his hand in marriage to Ruelle—because he wanted her. To the world, he was a saviour. Not to mention, it was also a way to climb the ranks of the court.
As Lorenzo continued speaking, Ezekiel's thoughts drifted to Ruelle. He hadn't spent much time with her, but what he had seen was enough to captivate him. Her beauty was undeniable, her grace subtle yet striking. She was more than just a means to an end—she was the crown jewel of his future.
When he first met the Belmonts, who were in trouble, he could have easily wiped their debt in one transaction. After all, that amount wasn't the issue. But he had chosen not to. He had given just enough to keep them reliant on him, to make it seem like he was scraping together his hard-earned wealth to save them. It kept them grateful and indebted.
"Only a matter of time before you secure your place in the court," Lorenzo mused. "I'll make sure Count Westerling notices how valuable you will be."
Ezekiel reclined deeper into his chair, his gaze distant as he imagined the future he was so close to seizing. Though he smiled warmly, his thoughts were far from noble.
Back in Sexton, the day dragged on in a blur for Ruelle. She sat through her classes, but her mind was elsewhere—constantly drifting back to the missing locket. When lunch finally arrived, she and Hailey hurried through their meal, eager to squeeze in another search of the maze.
On their way, they spotted Lucian, Sawyer, and Blake standing by the corridor, engaged in conversation. The trio cut striking figures, commanding attention even from afar. As they neared, Ruelle overheard Sawyer's voice.
"It was comical how Jinxy got mad about it. Did you return them to the shed?" he asked casually, his tone light and familiar. At that moment, Blake's attention shifted, and she noticed her human roommate and the other human approaching.
"Good afternoon," Hailey said politely, though there was a hint of nervousness in it as she offered a small bow towards Blake and then the others. The vampiress responded with a nod.
Ruelle followed suit, bowing her head in polite respect, offering the gesture to both Blake and Sawyer, who returned her smile warmly.
But then her gaze shifted to Lucian, whose aloof expression set him apart from the others. As if sensing her attention, his gaze snapped towards her, meeting her eyes with a cold, blank stare. His face showed no emotion, no warmth, and for a moment, Ruelle felt the weight of his indifference.
"What?" Lucian's voice cut through the air, low and devoid of any interest, as if questioning why she was standing there in the first place.
Ruelle's heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her and Hailey briskly walking on, eager to leave the daunting atmosphere behind them. After another fruitless search of the maze, they returned to class, each hour dragging by until the day finally ended.
As they were leaving the classroom, a voice called out, "Who's Belmont? Mr. Jinxy wants to see them."
Ruelle's stomach twisted as she made her way to Mr. Jinxy's office, her footsteps feeling heavier with every step. When she entered, she found him sharpening a dagger, his movements casual, as though this was just another normal day.
"You wanted to see me?" Ruelle asked carefully.
Mr. Jinxy didn't even glance up from his task. "Miss Belmont?"
Ruelle nodded.
He pulled open a drawer and retrieved something, extending his hand towards her. The sight of the familiar chain made her heart leap.
"This was found near the entrance of the maze," Mr. Jinxy said mildly, "Had Belmont engraved on it."
"Thank you," Ruelle replied, her voice thick with gratitude as she accepted the locket, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Mr. Jinxy waved his hand dismissively. "You're free to go."
She stepped outside, the tension in her chest easing for the first time that day.
"You found it!" Hailey exclaimed when she saw Ruelle at the bottom of the building.
"Mr. Jinxy found it," Ruelle replied with a smile, slipping the chain around her neck. Relief washed over her like a warm wave, lifting the weight from her shoulders.
"It looks like we missed it," Hailey replied, because they had looked at the entrance. "Well, all is well! You looked so sad, it was unbearable to look at you," she teased.
"I am sorry about that," Ruelle replied softly. She hadn't meant to be a downer.
"Don't apologise for it. And for what it's worth, caring that deeply about something is never a bad thing." Hailey smiled. "Did your mother give it to you for your birthday?"
"In a way," Ruelle said, her smile faltering ever so slightly.
The memory of her mother was non-existent. She had never dared to ask her father about her, the weight of guilt was too heavy to bear. She had always known one thing: her mother had died giving birth to her. The knowledge had shaped her, made her who she was, and left her with a guilt she couldn't shake.
As they made their way towards the next building, their conversation shifted to the upcoming wedding. But their voices trailed off as they turned a corner and saw the students gathered ahead of them.
Two figures were locked in a brutal fight, and one of them was none other than Lucian. Ruelle's heart jumped into her throat as she watched the confrontation unfold.
Lucian's fist slammed into the Halfling's face with a sickening crunch, sending him crashing against the stone wall. Blood sprayed from the person's nose, splattering across the cold stone. The sharp smell of iron filled the hallway as blood smeared down his chin and soaked his shirt.
In one swift motion, Lucian grabbed the Halfling by the collar, pulling him up with terrifying ease before slamming him back against the wall. The Halfling groaned, his breath ragged, but Lucian's face was a mask of fury—cold, controlled, and terrifying.
The Halfling mumbled something, staggering as he attempted to fight back. But Lucian moved faster, effortlessly catching the vampire's fist mid-strike before slamming him against the wall once more.
"Stay out of my business," Lucian growled, his voice cold and menacing. "Or I'll make sure the only thing left of you is a stain on this stone."
Blood splattered across the wall, some of it spraying onto Ruelle's dress. Her breath caught in her throat, and she froze, unable to look away from the raw violence before her.
"Well, well. Never a dull evening in Sexton." A smooth, teasing voice cut through the tension, and Ruelle turned to see Mr. S—Dane Slater—standing at the edge of the scene, his eyes crinkled in amusement. "Seems like everyone's going to all subjects colourfully this year."
At his words, the gathered students began to disperse, some mumbling amongst themselves.
Dane's gaze lingered on the bloodied Halfling. "Sawyer, be a dear and take Bowen to the infirmary, will you?"
Sawyer blinked, but before he could reply, Blake grabbed the Halfling by the collar, hauling him up like a discarded piece of trash.
"Lucian," Dane said, his voice light but enough to let Lucian know he wanted to share a word. As his gaze swept the hall, it landed on Ruelle. His smile widened slightly. "Ah, Ruelle. Want to play nurse?"
Ruelle blinked, taken aback. "Huh?"
Dane chuckled softly. "Just kidding. Though you might want to change your clothes. Bloodstains are a real pain to get out." He gestured towards the splatters on her dress.
With that, he turned and began walking, Lucian following him. As they made their way down the corridor, Dane's voice remained light, almost playful.
"I suppose you had a fine reason for wanting to paint the walls red," he said, casting a glance at Lucian. "What happened?"
Lucian's jaw clenched, his expression remained impassive, his voice cold and distant. He then replied, "He had opinion that needed to be squashed." If there was one thing he didn't tolerate, it was the Groundlings and Halflings thinking they could get away from commenting about his family.
"I would have handled it behind closed doors. Torture is always wonderful," Dane hummed thoughtfully. "But careful. Your actions today might have frightened the little rabbit."
"If you're looking for rabbits, there are plenty in the forest," Lucian remarked in a clipped tone, his gaze stayed fixed ahead, as though the conversation barely registered with him. "You'd make a better cave dweller than a teacher in Sexton."
Dane chuckled, a low, amused sound. "Oh, I doubt that. My students would miss me dearly, brother. But you're right. Plenty of rabbits out there. A rabbit's just a rabbit, after all."
Lucian remained silent, his steps measured, his gaze cold. Beneath the mask of indifference, something unresolved flickered—but it was swiftly buried beneath his usual detachment.
When night fell over Sexton, Ruelle chose the safety of her room over the uncertainty of the darkened halls, her focus on finishing the scarf that lay before her.
A faint rustling beyond the window snapped her from her thoughts. Her breath caught in her throat as she glanced out into the night. Forcing herself to look away, her fingers trembled slightly as she returned to her work.
Her fingers hesitated for a moment as the thought of the creature crept back into her mind. The low growl. The sound of leaves rustling behind her. The sense of being watched. She shivered. If it had growled, that meant it could smell her. If it could smell her, it could follow her.
The following day, Ruelle sat in the garden with Hailey, listening as Kevin vented his frustrations about the vampires. The sun filtered softly through the trees, casting patterns on the grass around them. They were fortunate to have a free class, free from the watchful eyes of the Elites and the fear of being overheard.
"This vampire almost snapped my neck yesterday," Kevin said, his expression grim.
"Tell me about it. Some of these vampiresses feel like demon minions," Hailey sighed, her voice tinged with weariness. "Not my roommate. Senior Blake doesn't bother with me."
Ruelle, sitting nearby and finishing the ends of a scarf she had been knitting, nodded along in quiet agreement. "That's how it's been for years," she replied softly. "Not too long ago, even humans from decent backgrounds found education slipping out of reach."
Kevin turned towards her, curiosity piqued. "But you're really good at forming perfect sentences and your spelling is spot-on. Was your family from a good standing in the past, Ruelle?"
Down the corridor, unseen, Lucian walked down the corridor. Upon catching Ruelle's name, his footsteps slowed, his ears listening intently to the fragments of their conversation. He caught sight of a scarf in her hand.
"I might have had a governess," Ruelle nodded, confirming Kevin's suspicion. "But that privilege didn't extend to my sister, Caroline. I had to take it upon myself to teach her."
"She's lucky to have you to teach her. I wouldn't be lagging as much if I had you as my sister," Hailey puffed her cheeks in faux jealousy. Ruelle smiled at her friend's affection but kept to herself the struggles of trying to teach an uninterested Caroline, which had often stirred discontent back home.
Her mother's distant voice echoed in her mind, reprimanding her as she'd often done in the past. 'That's the wrong answer, Caroline. Ruelle, didn't you teach her? She should be proficient by now.'
'I did, Mother,' Ruelle had replied at only fourteen, caught between helplessness and a desire to please. 'But Caroline struggles with it.'
'What do you mean struggles?' Mrs. Belmont's irritated glare seared into her memory. 'Are you calling Caroline stupid? Is it that you lack the ability to teach her, or are you purposefully withholding what you know?'
Kevin's voice broke through her uneasy memories. "The Elites get everything handed to them while we fight for it. Honestly, if someone offered me a way out, I'd probably take it—whatever it was."
"People often say it's wise to kiss the ground the Elites walk on," Ruelle replied, her tone thoughtful. "With the influence they have, it's not hard to understand why some would do whatever it takes to get close. Securing those kinds of connections could open doors to a better future. It's the easiest path."
Lucian, listening from the corridor's end, felt his lips twitch. To him, Ruelle Belmont seemed just like any other human, willing to scheme to climb the social ladder. He despised such people. The next second, he had disappeared silently from view.
"But," Ruelle continued, her voice soft yet firm, "that doesn't have to be the way. There's value in working hard and earning things through honest effort, even if it's something small. It's not always about reaching higher—sometimes just living quietly, with what's already there, is enough."
Hailey and Kevin nodded in agreement. The former laughed, "There's no much connection needed in terms of an employment of a maid."
As a gentle breeze passed through the garden and they made their way out of there, Ruelle's eyes fell on the maze which stood far away from them. Seeing her pause, Kevin inquired, "Everything alright?"
"Yes," Ruelle replied, before looking away and then asking, "Does Sexton have any bears or dogs?"
"Not that I know of so far," Kevin shook his head. "Though I have heard that to raise stakes in the game of Hunt and Stake, they bring in creatures."
"Just what was needed," Hailey responded dryly, while Ruelle wondered if she had crossed paths with one such creature two nights ago. She mentally noted not to step foot in the maze at night, as she didn't want to die.
The trio left to attend the next class, which was history of vampires. The curtains were drawn over the windows, leaving the room dark except for the lanterns that sat on the walls. Today's class, the instructor was talking about witches and their potions.
"As much as menace the witches have been to the vampires and the humans," the instructor stated as he continued with his class, "They have been sought for their abilities to make potions. Some which are feared, and some which can be useful like to heal. Of course, to drink a witch's potion is to gamble with your fate."
Ruelle shifted in her seat, her fingers still idly touching the scarf in her lap as the professor continued. She had heard whispers of witches before, but never had she come across one.
"There are different kind of potions apart from ones that bring harm or heal," the vampire continued to explain, while walking around the class. "Potions to illicit emotions of anger, happiness, love or even aphrodisiac. There are also some rare potions, which was made by a notorious witch, who was not only staked and burnt, but her ashes was locked in a jar and thrown into the sea inside a trunk, which now lays in the bottom of the sea."
"Why rare potions? Can't they be remade?" asked one of the students.
"No," came the curt response from the instructor of their class. "They cannot be remade because the ingredients she used—some lost to time, others forbidden—are now impossible to gather. Her potions were crafted from the essence of creatures long extinct, plants that grew only under the light of certain cursed moons, and blood taken from the purest of victims."
The students leaned in, their attention captured, the darkness of the room lending a sense of foreboding to the subject matter.
"One of her most feared creations was the Brew of Reversed Time," the instructor continued, his tone low, "Another famous potion of hers was Belladonna. It was one of her most prized position, named after her own name. These potions have been lost and destroyed. Let us not waste our time on lost potions. We will work on the ingredients used for healing today…"
Belladonna, Ruelle's mind whispered. She couldn't help but feel like she had heard the name before, but she couldn't place it where.