Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 103: Not for the girl

Chapter 103: Not for the girl

She sat at the edge of her bed, still dressed, arms wrapped around her knees. Beatrice had brought her hot tea, but it sat untouched. She stared at the floor. The rush of the night hadn’t faded yet; it lingered like thunder after a storm.

There was a knock. Soft.

She hesitated. "Yes?"

Lucien stepped in.

His coat was gone, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. His dark hair was slightly damp, as if he had washed the blood off quickly and returned.

"I wanted to ensure you were... alright."

She nodded.

"You fought well," she added, after a pause.

Lucien lifted a brow.

"You were quick," she continued, and then gave a shaky smile. "Remind me never to threaten you."

That earned a quiet chuckle from him. A rare thing.

He stepped closer, but not too near.

"I’ve assigned two guards to your door," he said. "You’ll not be left alone at night again."

She looked up. "You think this will happen again?"

His jaw tightened. "I think someone has begun to realize you matter."

She frowned. "To whom?"

"To me," he said simply. "To this house. To the wrong people."

The room grew quiet.

Liora stared at him. He wasn’t being poetic. He wasn’t trying to be kind. He was stating a fact.

It was oddly... grounding.

"You should rest," he added. "I’ll be in the west wing if you need anything."

She nodded.

He reached the door, hesitated, then turned back. "Liora," he said, his voice lower now.

"Yes?"

"I’m glad you weren’t harmed."

And with that, he left.

She stared at the door long after it closed.

Back at Blackthorne Manor, Interrogation Chamber

The stone-walled room beneath the east wing was colder than the rest of the manor. Dampness clung to the air, and the only light came from a lantern swinging above the table. Rowan stood silently at one end, arms folded, watching the prisoner’s slow, shallow breaths. The man had a bruised temple, blood crusting along his hairline where Lucien had struck him.

Lucien entered, his steps calm but echoing with the weight of command. He didn’t sit. He stood across from the man, eyes sharp.

"You’ll speak now," he said; his voice was like ice.

The man spat at the floor.

Rowan’s fingers twitched.

Lucien gave a nod. Rowan moved swiftly, dragging the man’s chair back and slamming his fist into the table beside him, not hitting, just close enough to make him flinch.

"You were sent to the east corridor," Lucien said. "Why? Who paid you?"

Silence.

Lucien leaned forward. "It wasn’t robbery. You had a blade laced with bellroot. That kills in minutes. So I’ll ask again: who sent you for the girl?"

Still, no answer.

Lucien exchanged a look with Rowan and turned to leave. But just as the door opened, the man rasped out, "Not for the girl."

Lucien froze.

The man coughed, smirking even as blood stained his teeth. "They didn’t want her killed. Just taken. Alive."

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. "Taken for whom?"

The prisoner only laughed, a sound that was half-choked, half-hollow. "You’ll find out soon enough, Blackthorne."

Lucien walked back, took the man’s chin in one gloved hand, and forced him to meet his eyes.

"You’re not important enough to be cryptic," he said, his voice deadly quiet. "Tell me who gave the order."

The prisoner’s jaw tensed, but Lucien already knew. The fear in his eyes wasn’t for death.

It was for betrayal.

Lucien let him go. "Find out how deep this goes," he told Rowan. "Quietly. And start with the court physician."

"The court physician?" Rowan blinked.

Lucien’s eyes glinted. "Bellroot is banned in this kingdom. There are only five known places it can be sourced, three of which answer to the Crown."

Elsewhere

Liora hadn’t slept much. She sat by the window, watching the sun slowly creep over the horizon. Her thoughts were heavy not just with fear but with confusion.

Why would anyone want to take her?

She wasn’t valuable. She had no wealth, no power. Just... secrets.

And perhaps, a connection to Lucien they couldn’t understand yet.

A soft knock came. This time it was Beatrice.

"The master left word," she said, handing Liora a folded parchment. "Said to read it in private."

Liora opened it once Beatrice left. The writing was sharp and deliberate.

"Until we know more, stay within the east wing. Do not open your door to anyone but Beatrice or me. If you remember anything unusual from today or before...no matter how small...tell me. There’s more at play here than I thought. ...L."

She folded the note slowly, heart thudding.

There was more at play indeed.

And she was now at the very center of it.

The morning sun filtered weakly through the high windows of the royal court chamber. The great hall buzzed with hushed conversations, courtiers in their finery whispering behind gloved hands, casting sideways glances at the vacant seat beside King Alden. The absence of the king was noted, but more pressing was the tension in the air, palpable like the calm before a storm.

At the center of the room stood Minister Calder, a man of considerable influence and cunning, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. Calder was known for his skill in court politics, often a friend to the Crown, yet just as often a shadowy figure pulling strings for his own gain.

Today, his voice cut sharply through the murmurs. "Honored lords and ladies, the matter at hand concerns the recent attempt on the life of Lady Liora Miral. It is no secret that this act has shaken the very foundations of our security. I propose a thorough investigation, one that will leave no stone unturned, even if it means questioning those closest to the throne."

A ripple of unease spread through the assembly. Some nodded, while others stiffened. Beatrice sat quietly near the back, her gaze steady but unreadable. Her loyalty was a complicated thing, a servant of Queen Dowager Lilian but also a staunch, if cautious, supporter of Lucien.

From the side, Lady Celene, a young noblewoman with sharp features and an icy demeanor, whispered to her companion, "This could be the opening Calder needs. The Queen Dowager’s enemies grow bolder."

The companion nodded, eyes flicking toward the empty royal seat. "And with King Alden absent, power will shift quickly."

Meanwhile, across town in the countryside manor of the House Valcourt, whispers of foreign envoys arriving stirred unease. Rumors spoke of the neighboring kingdom of Avelorn seeking an alliance or perhaps something more sinister. Avelorn’s long-standing ambition to weaken Blackthorne’s borders was an open secret, and now their presence so close to the capital was no coincidence.

Back at Blackthorne Estate, Rowan and Samuel exchanged guarded looks. "If Avelorn is making moves, this attempt on Liora may be part of a larger scheme," Rowan said quietly. "Someone inside the court must be colluding with them."

Samuel clenched his jaw. "We’ll need allies, and fast."

Lucien, arriving at the estate after a grueling day of interrogations and planning, found Liora deep in thought by the window. Their eyes met, an unspoken understanding passing between them. There was danger ahead, tangling them together in a web far more complex than either had anticipated.

The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the heavy oak table in the war room of Blackthorne estate. Maps of the kingdom lay spread out, marked with hastily scrawled notes and pins that indicated troop movements and border towns. Rowan stood at the head of the table, his fingers tracing the jagged line that marked the northern border where Avelorn’s envoys had been spotted.

"We cannot afford to underestimate Avelorn," Rowan said grimly. "Their presence near the capital is no accident. They are testing our defenses, probing for weaknesses. If they find an ally inside the court,, someone like Calder, they will strike when we least expect it."

Samuel paced beside him, eyes sharp with concern. "Calder’s ambition has always been a threat. But now, with the king absent and tensions rising, he could bring the entire court to ruin. We need to act before he gains too much influence."

A soft knock interrupted their planning. Liora entered quietly, her expression calm but resolute. "If I may," she began, "I have heard whispers among the servants and traders near the city gates. There are rumors of secret meetings, some involving nobles who stand to gain from a war. This could be the key to uncovering Calder’s true allies."

Lucien, leaning against the doorway, nodded thoughtfully. "Then we need to send someone to find out exactly what is happening. Discretion is vital. No one can know we suspect a conspiracy within our own walls."

Rowan glanced at Liora. "Your position as Lucien’s companion gives you access that others don’t have. Could you gather more information?"

Liora met his gaze steadily. "I will do what I can."

As the plans formed, the room seemed to grow colder, the weight of impending betrayal pressing down on them all. Outside, the wind howled, carrying with it the distant echoes of a storm gathering both within the kingdom and in the hearts of those who sought to protect it.