Chapter 234 - 234: A Turn of the Tide

By the time Ruelle and the Belmonts left the mansion, she let out an inaudible sigh, half-hidden beneath the sound of the carriage door closing behind her.

Mr. Belmont was already grumbling before they completely left the estate. He spat, "So much for pureblooded vampire and their superiority! Did you see what the boy did?! Trying to threaten us!"

"Hush, Harold," Mrs. Belmont whispered, turning in the direction of the coachman.

Ruelle said nothing. She turned her face toward the window, watching the dark forest pass against the glass as the carriage rolled forward. Her mind drifted to the black tendrils she had seen earlier outside the mansion. With the timeline untouched by trauma, she wondered if the corruption had somehow tried to continue to cling to Lucian.

And this time, it didn't corrupt and try to control him.

"We have to let the relatives know about it before it reaches through the paper," Mr. Belmont muttered and he then huffed.

"People are definitely going to be questioning it," Mrs. Belmont said with a frown. "But the minister is going to keep his word right?"

"Of course. I will have the position in the courthouse once this is sealed," Mr. Belmont laughed at the thought. "I have to go explain to my sister about it before anyone else."

Hearing them talk about the family, Ruelle turned to Mrs. Belmont and asked, "Will Brother Lachlan come too for the celebration?"

"Brother Lachlan? Who is that?" Mrs. Belmont's eyebrows furrowed.

Ruelle stared at her. For a moment, the rolling of the carriage seemed to fade.

She had expected things to change, but she hadn't expected Lachlan to no longer be her relative. Was he somewhere else in this timeline? Had he been born into another family—or had his life shifted so far from hers that they had never met at all?

Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her dress.

Where are you, Brother Lachlan?

"What names is she spouting? Ruelle, if you speak out of line, I will make sure you will regret it. Do you understand?" Mr. Belmont snapped at her.

Unlike before, Ruelle didn't cower. Her body remembered enough to tense when his hand rose, but the terror that once followed never came.

She had seen Harold Belmont beg. She had heard him cry. Whatever monstrous shape he had occupied in her childhood had already been broken. And she was no longer the child he thought he knew.

And this led to her staring back at him.

"What?" Mr. Belmont demanded, ready to raise his hand and Mrs. Belmont quickly held him back, whispering to him, "Not here. Wait, until we arrive home."

When the carriage arrived at the Belmont residence, Ruelle stepped outside before the wheels had fully come to a stop. She quickly entered the house, disappearing into it in a hurry, while Mr. and Mrs. Belmont offered their thanks to the coachman and the Slaters for offering their carriage for the night, as theirs had broken.

She looked around, searching for that one person who had cared for her in this house. The memory of Daisy had surfaced the moment she'd stepped through the door. The woman who had cared for her when she was sick and beaten by Mr. Belmont. The maid right now was fixing the table. She stood at the far end, straightening the cutlery, when she looked up upon hearing Ruelle's footsteps and a smile lit up on her face.

"Miss Ruelle, welcome back home."

"Daisy..." Ruelle uttered the name.

Getting closer, she turned behind her to make sure Mr. and Mrs. Belmont hadn't caught up. Their voices echoed in the hall while they spoke to little Caroline.

"Yes, Miss?" Daisy looked at her curiously, tilting her head slightly, her eyes warm behind the curiosity.

Ruelle's heart was pounding now. She could feel the seconds slipping away, could hear her Mr. Belmont's voice growing closer with every passing moment. Whatever she was going to do, it had to be now.

"If I asked you something odd or crazy, will you help me with it?" she asked, and she knew she must look strange at the request. But Daisy didn't laugh. She took the question with utmost seriousness, and she nodded.

"Anything, Miss."

"Ruelle?" Mr. Belmont's voice echoed at the entrance, which was impatient. "Where are you?"

She stepped closer to Daisy, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper and asked, "Do you have money on you? Enough to travel for two?"

Daisy's expression moved to worry, her eyebrows creasing. She replied, "I don't think running is a good idea, Miss Ruelle. We will be caught, and—"

"It is just for the night," Ruelle cut in, her voice urgent. "I promise I won't get you into trouble. I won't let them punish you for helping me. Please, Daisy. I promise," she looked at the woman earnestly.

She knew it was a gamble, but she didn't want to stay in the Belmont house with the people she had already decided to move on from. Not to mention, whatever she had to do, it had to be done quickly without wasting time!

When the footsteps grew louder, Ruelle ducked down, pressing herself behind the maid's skirts just as Mr. Belmont appeared in the corner.

"Did you see Ruelle?" he demanded, as he snapped his belt.

The maid looked slightly uneasy. Without using words, she shook her head. It was a silent lie delivered with a skill that surprised even her. Mr. Belmont's eyes swept the room once. Finding nothing, he snapped the belt against his palm with a sharp crack.

"She must have gone to her room," he muttered, before turning and leaving the space.

Ruelle stayed hidden until the sound faded entirely. Then she peeked carefully around the maid's hip and found Daisy looking down at her with an expression that held neither judgement nor fear. The woman said softly,

"You are acting very strange right now, Miss Ruelle. Are you sure about this?" She knew the risk. By tomorrow morning they could be caught. Daisy would be sent to the prison dungeon or worse. For a servant, trying to escape with the house's daughter was not a small crime.

But then again Harold Belmont had never treated Ruelle like his daughter.

Ruelle gave a firm nod.

"Alright then." Daisy smoothed her apron with hands that trembled only slightly. "Let me grab my coat and the money. Wait for me at the back door, Miss."

Ruelle's chest tightened. Even in a life that no longer remembered the years between them, Daisy had still chosen her.

She hurried out, and they met again at the back, breath clouding in the cold night air, a worn coat thrown over Daisy's shoulders and a small, heavy purse clutched in her hand. Slipping out of the house, they found a local carriage and climbed in. The ride was quiet, while a yawn escaped her lips.

"Why am I sleepy?"

The exhaustion came over her suddenly, far heavier than it should have been. Was it because she had reversed the time?

"Sleep, Miss," Daisy murmured. "I'll keep watch." But Ruelle shook her head. "You know... I sometimes have wondered if I should have run away with you, Miss Ruelle. Forgive me for such thoughts."

Ruelle smiled at the middle-aged woman. "Your thoughts came from a protective place. I am grateful for it."

Daisy stared at Ruelle before muttering, "You speak so differently…You could barely raise your voice before you left this evening," and she shook her head.

The carriage continued to travel, snow falling from the sky in soft, silent flakes, while the horses pulled it steadily through the winding road. Daisy had been quiet for most of the journey, one arm wrapped protectively around Ruelle's shoulders, her gaze fixed on the dark landscape.

When the carriage finally arrived at the gates, a guard stepped forward, his torch casting a flickering circle of light through the falling snow. His expression was flat and unimpressed.

"No visitors are being entertained at this hour," the guard informed. "If you have any problem, write it down at the magistrate's office. Go on now."

"Mister, this is urgent, and we need to meet the Elder Minister," Daisy pleaded, leaning out of the carriage window. "We wouldn't be here if it weren't a matter of importance!"

But the guard was not having it. He barely looked at her and waved his hand, dismissing them. "Return back now."

"Wait!"

Ruelle's voice cut through the cold, small but clear. The guard paused, his eyes sliding to the carriage, finding the pale face of the girl leaning out of the window on the other side. She informed him,

"The Elder Minister's life is in grave danger. We need to inform him about it."

"What?" The guard's expression turned startled and suspicious at once. He turned to the maid, his eyes narrowing as if she were the one who had put the girl up to it. "What all are you teaching a little girl? Have you no shame?"

Ruelle opened the carriage door in frustration, stepping out into the snow, her boots sinking into the cold powder. Daisy followed right after her, her voice rising with concern, "Miss Ruelle, wait!"

The coachman hunched against the cold on his seat and let out an aggrieved sigh. "It's getting cold. Are you two getting in or not?"

She had thought it would be easy, but it was not. It wasn't as if they could simply pass through and walk up to Carnifex's door. The mansion itself stood far back from the gate, its windows lit with warm, distant light, too far away for her voice to carry but some of the windows were left open.

Ruelle bit her lip, her thoughts running fast and she then turned to Daisy. She said, "Shout my mother's name. On count of three."

"Are you serious?!" the guard's voice rose, bewildered. "This is going to send both of you to—"

"One—"

"Miss Ruelle—"

"Two. Three."

Ruelle nodded at Daisy and shouted with everything her small lungs could carry, "MIRAAAAABELLLLE!!!"

Her voice was not loud as it cracked and strained at the end. But Daisy's voice joined hers, deeper and stronger, and together they sent the name ringing out into the darkness, over the gate, hoping it reached towards the distant mansion.

For a long moment, nothing happened. The guard scolded them, "Enough of this madness. Leave, or I will personally see you two— actually, three of you inside the dungeon," he added, jerking his thumb at the coachman.

"What did I do?!" the coachman looked offended, throwing his hands up. "I am only the local transportation!"

Finally Ruelle heard footsteps approach the gate and noticed Lady Amelia approach the gates through the soft falling snow, half of her hair pinned back while the rest fell over her shoulders. Her eyes were sharp even from a distance.

"What is going on here?" the woman questioned as she made her way to the gate, her eyes moving past the guard, catching sight of the woman first and then the little girl standing beside her, snow dusting her hair and shoulders.

"Forgive, milady. These folks were just having some small issues which they can solve through the town or vill—"

Ruelle offered a deep bow, and she greeted, "Good evening, Lady Amelia. I would like an audience with you and the minister in private."

"Did you not tell me you wanted to talk to the minister a while ago?" the guard started, only to fall silent the moment the vampiress raised her hand.

Lady Amelia's eyes swept over them again, lingering on Ruelle's small, snow-covered figure, assessing her with the careful attention. She then asked calmly,

"The name you shouted. What does it have to do with you?"

Ruelle did not look away. "I am Mirabelle's daughter. Ruelle. I believe you have her handkerchief that she left here when she last visited?" and at her words, the vampiress's eyes widened.