Chapter 236 - 236: Pulling Out the Roots

Lucian was close to burning the house down. He said, "I asked where Ruelle is. She's not in the house."

"We don't know!" Mr. Belmont insisted. "We don't know—"

A sigh escaped from Lucian's lips. The sound of it was small, carrying almost a world of contempt in just the breath of it. He murmured, "Useless even now. Is there any point living?"

"What? Even now?" Mr. Belmont gritted his teeth at the audacity of the young pureblooded vampire.

The tendrils moved, sliding over the floor, swift and curious, which brushed against Mrs. Belmont's leg before winding around her ankle with a light touch, which was enough to make the woman shriek. She exclaimed,

"We don't know! We don't! Our maid Daisy took her somewhere! We're trying to look for her, we are now, we—"

This morning, when Lucian had woken up, things he didn't remember yesterday came flooding in like a dam that had broken. His memories had returned sooner than he had estimated for it to return.

Though Lucian had known the solution to what was going on, he could not have given it to Ruelle himself at the fear of changing things between them. The choice had needed to be hers alone, or else people getting involved would find their position changed from what it was meant to be. Still, with the ingredients already gathered and the path laid before her, he had hoped she would arrive at it on her own.

In the past, Ruelle was never kidnapped when she was young. Which meant she had chosen to leave on her own accord.

But where could she be?

He doubted she had gone to Hailey or Kevin, given how they didn't have a strong standing against the Belmonts and were young with no memories.

That left one place, Lucian realised. Without another word, he turned and left the house.

Only when the door had shut behind him did some of Harold's courage return. His jaw clenched and then scowled. "I will report him! Damn him." He turned sharply towards his wife, ordering, "Get ready. We're going to visit the courthouse!"

With their own carriage broken, they had to wait to catch the local carriage before they headed towards the courthouse. Stepping down, he strode through the entrance with his wife.

"I need to speak with the Elder Minister immediately. One of the Slater boys entered my house without permission and threatened my family. I want—Oh good, there's the minister," he said, catching sight of Carnifex.

But before he could approach, two officers stepped into their path and Harold stopped.

"What?"

One of them unfolded a document, questioning him, "Harold Belmont?"

"Yes?" Mr. Belmont looked slightly irritated.

"You and your wife are under arrest for treason and fraud."

"What?" Mr. Belmont looked confused. "I think there's a confusion. My daughter is missing. I am not the one who kidnapped her."

The guard informed him, "Anything you say or do will be held against you later."

Harold's confusion slowly gave way to unease. His eyes moved past the officers towards Carnifex.

"Minister?" But the elder minister did not approach and only stared back. "What is going to happen to my daughter?!"

Carnifex's expression remained unreadable. "Which one?"

Harold froze.

"If you mean the daughter you hid from the treaty, arrangements will be made for her to stay with your sister."

"H—Hid?" Harold's face drained of colour. "I was talking about Ruelle."

Carnifex's eyes narrowed slightly. He remarked firmly, "Ruelle is bound to the treaty. I will personally see to it that she is well cared for. Take them to the dungeon."

While a stunned Mr and Mrs Belmont were escorted away, the Elder Minister's mansion remained quiet, Ruelle had yet to wake. Unaware of everything that had unfolded that morning, she continued to sleep peacefully beneath the warmth of the blankets.

Reversing time had taken a greater toll on her than she had realised. Her young body was still recovering from the strain of it.

A shadow slipped across Ruelle's sleeping face. Lucian had come to stand beside the bed, his gaze resting quietly on her. His gaze lowered to the delicate vines along her neck, which was absent last evening when they had met with the parents.

His hand lifted to her face, carefully brushing a loose strand of hair away from her cheek.

Ruelle stirred in her sleep, her brows drawing together before her eyes slowly fluttered open, still heavy with sleep. As her eyes adjusted to the morning light, she caught the young Lucian sitting on the edge of the bed, and she sat up suddenly.

Then another thought surfaced. If her mother's interference in keeping her alive had created the imbalance, perhaps reversing time had finally corrected it.

She murmured, "He didn't come to kill me, did he?"

But then Lucian pulled her into his embrace, remarking, "I am rather attached to do that."

Ruelle's eyes widened upon hearing this, and she asked, "You… remember?"

Lucian pulled back before leaning in to kiss her forehead.

Taken aback, she said, "I thought you and the others wouldn't remember."

"Ideally, only the person who reverses time retains their memories," Lucian answered, his gaze fixed on hers. "Reversal maintains balance. The knowledge you carry is compensated for elsewhere, while everyone else remains unaware of what was erased."

"But I remember because of who you soul bonded with," he paused briefly. "But the bond carried part of my corruption with it. When time reversed, that tether remained."

"A tether…" Ruelle murmured. It wasn't only something that bound them beyond death. Somehow, it had endured even before it. Her expression softened. "I am glad you remember. I mean… I had prepared myself to rebuild the memories together, but it makes me happy knowing you are here with me."

Lucian's thumb brushed against the back of her hand. "I know."

Remembering something, the smile on Ruelle's lips faltered and her gaze dropped. She whispered,

"I met Belladonna beyond the mirror. She told me things wouldn't return exactly as they were. There is no Lachlan. The Belmonts didn't know who he was when I asked."

Lucian remained quiet, listening.

"I need to find Hailey. I need to know that she still exists," Ruelle continued.

"Then we'll find her," Lucian said simply. His fingers closed around hers. "If seeing her will put your mind at ease, there is no reason to remain here worrying about it."

Someone cleared their throat at the doorway. Ruelle and Lucian turned at the sound and found Lady Amelia standing there, watching them. The vampiress remarked with slight amusement,

"Well. I was under the impression that one of you was asleep and the other lived elsewhere."

Ruelle began, "Lady Amelia—we need to go see someone."

Lady Amelia nodded. But she said, "I understand, but it would be rude to send you away without being fed. Mr Slater, I assume you haven't had breakfast either. You may join us."

In the short span of time, clothes had been arranged for her, and she was changed into them. Instead of a maid taking care of it, Lady Amelia had gently braided Ruelle's hair, working it carefully around the crown of her head before pinning it in place.

She was then brought to the dining room, where there were so many varieties that she couldn't help but gawk at it. The silver trays gleamed under the chandelier's light, filled with warm bread, roasted meats, glazed vegetables, small bowls of fruit preserved in syrup, a tureen of soup still steaming gently and many desserts.

"I wasn't sure what you like and asked the cook to make a little of everything," Lady Amelia said, pulling the chair next to the head of the table. "Come, sit."

Ruelle picked up her fork and took the first bite. The food was comforting and she realised how hungry she was.

And once she was done eating with Lucian, who had drunk blood that was offered to him, she asked, "Where is the elder minister?"

"I think he went to keep an eye on the Sylvans and see what he can find. Though I think he must be in the courthouse now," Lady Amelia informed her. "Do you want me to send a word to him?"

Ruelle shook her head.

Now that Ruelle had filled him in on what he had missed concerning Lady Sylvan, Lucian's expression grew grave. He said,

"Previously, the attack took place four weeks after we met. But we can't assume she will move at the same time now." After a pause, she added, "We should go to the courthouse later. With how things are right now, it isn't enough to hold Sylvans accountable."

Ruelle and Lucian left the elder minister's house in the carriage, the wheels crunching softly over the thin crust of new snow. She sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap, and she could feel her heart beating hard and steady in her throat from anticipation. Lucian simply watched her, his eyes steady as if he would follow her into the depths of hell if needed.

The village appeared at the edge of the horizon slowly, a low cluster of cottages huddled together around a small square, their roofs white with snow, their windows glowing faintly against the cold.

When the house came into view where a wisp of smoke curled from its chimney, Ruelle leaned forward and rapped twice on the panel behind the driver.

"Stop here. This is the place," came her eager voice.

The coachman pulled the horses, and the carriage drew gently to a halt, rocking once as it settled. The door opened and they stepped down. She said to Lucian,

"There's Mrs. Elliot!" she pointed, noticing the woman hanging clothes on a rope stretched between two posts at the side of the house.

Mrs. Elliot was exactly as Ruelle remembered her, a round, warm-faced woman with her sleeves rolled up despite the cold, her hands red from the wash water, her hair pinned into a bun. She hummed as she worked, shaking out a sheet before draping it over the line, and when she caught sight of the two young children standing at the edge of her garden, she paused, her hands dropping to her hips with a friendly smile.

"Hello, dears," the older woman called. "Are you lost?" she asked, noticing the clothes they wore weren't something that people of this village wore.

The Elliots were warm and friendly folks, who had welcomed and taken care of her when she visited them with her friend.

"Mrs. Elliot," Ruelle small voice came.

The woman tilted her head. "Yes? That is me."

"Is Hailey here?" Ruelle asked, the words rushing out before she could stop them. "Is she home?"

Mrs. Elliot blinked. The smile on her face flickered, confusion settling into her features. "Hailey?" she repeated. "I'm sorry, dear, I'm not sure who that is. There's no Hailey here. Perhaps you've come to the wrong village?"

Heaviness grew in Ruelle's chest. She had hoped that with Hailey not understanding what was written in the book when they had read in the library, it wouldn't affect her friend.

Did she not exist either?

She couldn't speak. The words were tangled in her mind.

'Even if you were a frog, you would be my friend, Ruelle. It doesn't matter,' Hailey's words echoed in her mind.

"Dear? Are you all right?—"

"We're looking for a family by the name of Elliot," Lucian interjected smoothly, stepping forward and offering a slight bow. He said, "Mr Elliot was once of considerable help to my family. My father asked that this be delivered to him." He pulled a small pouch before offering it to the woman.

The woman felt the weight of the coins and her lips parted in confusion. "I—My husband isn't here. It is too much."

"It was meant for your household. Keep it," Lucian insisted.

Returning to the carriage, the carriage left right away. Ruelle had hoped to see Hailey, but she wasn't here... Leaning forward, she covered her face with her hands.

The next stop wasn't too far, which was to the Kevin Reynolds house. But they didn't have to step down, as they caught sight of a young Kevin trailing behind his father and a sigh escaped from her lips. She muttered,

"It would be nice if Ezekiel didn't exist..."

"Maybe he doesn't," Lucian said, his hand finding hers. "There must be limits to what reversal restores, no matter how many possibilities it creates. You killed Ezekiel with your own hands. That was a choice you made, not something taken from you by circumstance. Time may have no reason to place him in your path again."

They were trying to put out fires before they could even think of letting new ones spark all in the hope of building something better on the other side of it. Ruelle wasn't sure what she would do if she had to live through that same pain and anguish all over again.

"Ruelle."

"Hm?" She turned to meet his patient eyes. Those dark, steady eyes that had watched her across a dozen impossible days, that had seen her at her worst and had not once looked away.

"Remember the day you were supposed to die by my hands?" Lucian asked, reminding her of the dream she had witnessed and she nodded. "You survived an outcome that was meant to be certain. This is no different. Whatever has changed, we deal with it as we find it."

Right now… they could only hope for the best, thought Ruelle to herself.

As the carriage carried them next to the courthouse, Ruelle turned to Lucian and asked,

"How are you planning to catch Sylvan?"

Because even previously it had been hard to catch the minister, and with Lady Sylvan working behind the scenes, it would take quite some time before they would be caught.

"I told Father about the ribbon lady and the one who took Caroline with her last night. He might get them to speak, right?" her eyes looked slightly worried.

"I don't think it will work. The last time I tortured them, not one uttered Lady Sylvan's name. I have a quick and effective method, though I need your help with it," Lucian answered, which was calm but equally neutral.

Ruelle nodded right away, eager to help. "What do I need to do?"

Once they arrived at the courthouse, Lucian led her away from prying eyes, guiding her through a narrow passage at the side of the building. They then finally arrived at the inner side of the courthouse, which looked like an inner garden, where flowers continued to bloom and the plants were green an untouched by the snow.

"Do you remember what you need to do?" he asked, after laying out the plan to her.

Ruelle nodded. "What if someone else comes before it?" she asked

"I will make sure it doesn't happen. At the sound of the bird, that is going to be your cue," Lucian leaned in and kissed her, like a promise of return. "I will be watching you. Do not worry. All of this will end soon. And then we can look for Zhenya."

Ruelle smiled at the mention of their wolf. She then watched him leave, slipping into the dark of the corridor without a sound. She should have been nervous, but life had put her through enough that the moment didn't feel intimidating.

Outside the inner garden, Lucian moved through the courthouse like a shadow. He made his way up, along the side passages, past the rooms where lesser clerks still laboured over their lamps.

Entering an empty room, Lucian grabbed the parchments and quill before he wrote down a letter that was addressed to a chosen minister. Once he was done with it, he stepped out into the corridor and his eyes finally fell on the officer, who was yet to take his position as a minister of the courthouse in the near future.

Maverick Griswold, who was walking by, caught sight of the young pureblooded vampire who was Lord Azriel's son.

"Hold on," the man waved his hand in front of Lucian, while his eyes caught sight of the sealed envelopes. "What are you holding in your hands? It looks quite important."

Lucian clutched the stack a little tighter, the picture of a boy trying to look innocent and failing. He answered,

"I found them on the Elder Minister's desk. He wasn't there, but they looked important, and I didn't want them to get lost. So I decided to deliver them myself."

Griswold's eyebrows rose. "You were going to deliver ministerial correspondence? I didn't know the young master had turned into an errand boy," he mocked him.

"I'm going to be Elder Minister one day," Lucian deadpanned, leaving the silence to fill in the words he didn't go to utter.

For a moment, Griswold simply stared at him. Then he laughed,

"Elder Minister? Boy, you're barely tall enough to reach the desk, let alone sit behind it." He reached out and plucked the envelopes from his arms with the casual authority of a man taking something from a child who had no business holding it. "Children should be playing, not meddling in court matters. I'll take these. I'll see that these reach whoever they're meant for. The young master shouldn't worry about it."

Griswold glanced over the names written across the envelopes. Several belonged to members of the council. His expression shifted almost subtly. He had been trying to improve his standing in the courthouse for months. Personally placing important correspondence into the hands of men above him certainly wouldn't hurt.

"But I—"

"Go on, now," Griswold interrupted, already turning away and waving a dismissing hand. "Run along. Find something else to do and play with."

The officer smiled, moving the envelopes before he began walking away to the first person he had to deliver to, which was none other than Minister Sylvan.

Only when the officer was out of sight did the childish expression on Lucian's face disappear to be replaced by a colder one. The hook was set, the line was cast, and the fish was swimming willingly toward the net.