Ruelle didn’t know a Christmas gift could be stressful. Too many eyes lingered on her, waiting for her to oblige and her shoulders stiffened.
"I was thinking blue, since it’s my favourite colour. But perhaps it’s better if you choose your favourite colour for ," Edward continued, already imagining himself wearing the sweater.
Her lips parted. "I—"
"Red."
The word ca calmly from behind the prince. Lucian had stopped a short distance away with Sawyer, who had stopped mid-sentence now forgetting what he was talking about earlier.
Lucian’s posture was relaxed with his expression unreadable and his gaze settled on Edward.
"I don’t rember asking you," Edward grumbled, as he was still bitter about the day he had brought Ruelle flowers. He frowned, stating, "I believe I asked Ruelle."
Ruelle blinked at Lucian.
Did he not tell her to concentrate on her studies and pause on knitting? She asked herself. Had he changed his mind? But the unnerving calm in his eyes suggested otherwise.
"You asked in a public corridor. I assud it was open to answer," Lucian replied.
Sawyer frowned slightly, thinking aloud before he could stop himself, "I always thought red made it easier to aim at."
Edward turned towards Sawyer with an obvious scowl. He asked, "Ravencroft... Are you volunteering to test how sharp the royal axe is?"
Sawyer straightened at once and bowed, "My apologies, Your Highness. I misspoke. I should see if Angelina has arrived," and he slipped away.
Before things could escalate further, Ruelle spoke up, "Edward," drawing the prince’s attention imdiately. She offered him a warm smile before continuing, "It is very kind of you to ask for sothing made by . But I’m afraid I won’t be able to start any knitting for a while."
"Eh? Why ever not?" Edward looked offended.
Because she had given her word to Lucian for sothing he had asked of her for the very first ti.
"I missed a week of classes and need to catch up with it. Studying is very important and I want to place well... just like you are. I would hate for soone like you to have a friend who is dull," she added. She was aware that flattery worked faster than reason here.
Edward’s mouth opened, then closed again as he tried to decide whether to be pleased or to protest. Before he could regain control of the conversation, soone else interrupted him again.
"If it is a sweater you desire, I would be honoured to make one for you, Your Highness," Caroline stepped forward with a bow, who had moved closer.
"Who is this peasant?" Edward looked annoyed with the number of people disrupting his ti with Ruelle!
Caroline’s face fell at once, but she fixed her expression and replied, "My na is Caroline. I am Ruelle’s younger sister."
Ruelle watched Caroline introduce herself, while she stood there in silence.
"Sister? How co I have never heard about you?" Edward asked, giving her a look of suspicion. "You have different hair colour too."
"I just joined Sexton last week," Caroline smiled. "If Ruelle is busy, I would be grateful for the chance to be of service instead. We did knit together before coming here, didn’t we, Ruelle? Such wonderful mories."
Edward, who was unconvinced, turned to Ruelle to question, "Is she really your sister?"
Ruelle didn’t understand how Caroline could stand there smiling, speaking as if nothing between them had cracked beyond repair. The mory her sister reached for did not exist in her mind the way it seed to in her sister’s.
"We share a father," Ruelle replied quietly. "Caroline is my half-sister."
Caroline’s smile faltered as Ruelle’s words were soft but they landed like a door closing on her face. Hurt flashed across her face before it was replaced with resentnt.
"Ruelle—"
But Ruelle, who had caught Lucian turning at the end of the corridor murmured politely, "Excuse ," already stepping away. "I have sowhere to be."
"Wait—" Edward lifted a hand, annoyed at being abandoned mid-conversation. When she didn’t stop, his expression soured. He turned slowly toward the human who had interrupted, irritation settling across his features. He said coldly,
"It seems you are neither a good sister nor a particularly useful subject. I don’t need your sweater. If sothing is to be made, it will be made by Ruelle. Don’t talk to ."
Hailey and Kevin took this as a cue to slip out of there.
Caroline froze at the prince’s words.
She had stepped forward, thinking this was her chance. That if Ruelle took the prince’s wish, the favour would spill onto her too. All that would be needed was for the prince to say the word and she would get out of the slave contract. But her sister had refused.
She remained standing alone in the corridor, cheeks burning, while the prince walked past her without a glance and so did the others.
On the other hand, Ruelle’s steps quickened as she turned the corner and saw Lucian already several paces ahead, the distance between them slowly widening. The sound of her shoes echoed softly against the corridor floor as she called,
"Lucian—"
It wasn’t loud, almost a breath more than a voice but his steps halted at once. He turned, his gaze finding hers without surprise. She reached him a mont later, faintly out of breath, though she couldn’t tell if it was from the hasty walk or from everything else still weighing on her chest.
"Why did you do that... back there?" she questioned.
"I thought you were looking for a colour," Lucian answered, his gaze moving briefly to the flush still clinging to her cheek before returning to her eyes.
A small breath of laughter left Ruelle’s lips, light but uncertain. She admitted, "I wasn’t, Edward was." Then she asked, almost thoughtfully, "But what would you have done if I had agreed with red?"
She didn’t wait for the answer as she turned to look behind her, wondering if her friends had got inside the dining room, while unaware that her question had not landed lightly.
Behind her, Lucian did not move.
"What is your favourite colour?" she asked, turning back to him.
"Why?" he replied, almost absentmindedly. "There’s no reason for you to strain your fingers for soone else’s comfort."
Ruelle gave a small nod. She knew he was right. Her fingers had only just healed and the dull ache still returned when she exerted pressure. After a mont, she said,
"I would still want to know. Like my favourite colour is pale rose."
From a distance, Edward watched Ruelle and Lucian with a deep frown on his face.
Ruelle was speaking to the pureblooded vampire with an ease he rarely managed to draw from her. She looked unguarded as she spoke and it bothered him. anwhile, the pureblooded stood in front of her with the cold, detached expression. He wasn’t even polite with Ruelle!
"I cannot believe she is acquainted with him," Edward muttered.
"They do share a room, Your Highness," Hers reminded him, who stood behind the prince.
"Only a room. Not a bed," Edward corrected at once with a harrumph. "Ruelle is too pure and far too considerate to tolerate his presence. Where are we with the new quarters?"
"It will be ready in five days," Hers replied with a bow.
Edward nodded in satisfaction. "Good. I heard one of the vampiresses tried to harm her, which was why she left the first room." His voice lowered, as though speaking of a conspiracy. "The previous roommate in that room went missing."
The prince then raised his voice, "Ruelle."
Ruelle turned catching Edward approaching where she was. He ca to a stop a few steps away, hands placed in his pockets. He said,
"We should eat before the food turns cold."
"Ah, yes," Ruelle agreed. Edward smiled, then added with a light scoff, "Right? So of us actually have to stay at the top of class. Can’t afford to fall behind like others," and he threw a look at Lucian.
Just as Ruelle turned to go, Lucian spoke, "Charcoal black."
Edward frowned. Did this person simply enjoy blurting out colours at inconvenient tis?
Ruelle looked at Lucian in surprise before a faint smile touched her lips that he finally shared sothing. She then turned and accompanied Edward, the dark scarf around her neck stirring faintly as she walked.
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