Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 140: He won’t like this...

Chapter 140: He won’t like this...

Lucien sat alone in the candlelight, the map sprawled before him, pins and notes placed meticulously. He marked the spot near the forest’s edge, circling it twice.

There was a knock.

"Enter."

Rowan stepped in. "She found something. Burnt medical crates, forged by royal stock."

Lucien tensed. "And?"

Rowan hesitated. "A dagger. With the Kessel insignia."

Lucien’s fingers clenched the table edge. "So it begins."

He stood, walked to the window, and stared into the darkening sky. "Alden needs to hear of this. Quietly."

"And Liora?"

Lucien paused. Then, in a low voice, "Keep her close."

Alden sat in the royal court chamber, an air of tension thick enough to strangle. Ministers flanked either side of the long oval table. The fire in the brazier flickered, casting long shadows on the polished marble walls. He looked more tired these days ever since Petra’s unease began surfacing.

"The evidence brought by Prince Lucien confirms that someone has been intercepting medical crates meant for Petra," the head minister, Chancellor Verrick, announced.

Gasps followed. One noblewoman clutched her pearls; another whispered something quickly into her steward’s ear.

"And the Kessel crest?" Alden asked, his voice low but cutting.

Verrick nodded grimly. "Confirmed. Our spies thought the Kessel remnants died with their last heir. But if this is true, they’ve either survived or someone wants us to believe they have."

Alden tapped his fingers once on the table, then stood. "I want a list of everyone who handled the Petra convoys in the past three months. From both ends. No exceptions. Send word to General Maveen. Quietly. I want this handled under the surface."

"But, Your Majesty," one younger lord interjected, "if this spreads, it could stir rebellion or panic."

"Which is exactly why it won’t spread," Alden said coldly. "This matter stays here. Anyone found leaking this information..." He didn’t finish the sentence, but the silence that followed completed it well enough.

Liora sat near the window of her room, scribbling down what she remembered of the burnt crates and the dagger. Her thoughts weren’t just on the mystery anymore; they were on Lucien. The way he had stared at the map. The way his voice had dropped when he said, "Keep her close." Not to her directly, but Rowan had let it slip.

He had said it for her protection... hadn’t he?

The knock startled her.

It was Theo.

"I brought the ointments," he said with a half-smile, holding the basket she had requested from the infirmary. "And a little something extra, honey-dried plums."

Liora smiled faintly, thankful for the distraction. "Thank you, Theo."

He watched her closely, and after a pause asked, "You’ve been quiet. Ever since you returned from the forest."

Liora looked down. "There’s a lot going on."

"I know." He stepped closer. "And whatever it is...whoever has pulled you into it...you can count on me."

She glanced at him, eyes softening.

Theo leaned on the edge of her table. "I know I’m just the new assistant here, but I’m not blind. Something dark is stirring. Just..." He hesitated, then added, "Just promise me you won’t face it alone."

Liora felt her chest tighten. He was kind and sincere. He reminded her of safety. Something she hadn’t had in a long time.

"I promise," she said quietly.

Neither of them noticed the shadow that lingered by the hallway beyond the ajar door. Rowan stood silently, arms crossed, lips pursed.

He turned and walked away, murmuring to himself, "He won’t like this..."

The candlelight flickered low as Lucien ran his fingers over the etched lines of the Petra map. His eyes lingered on the edge of the territory where the burned-out crates had been discovered. The evidence pointed to something bigger too calculated to be a random raid.

A knock.

"Enter," Lucien said, not looking up.

Rowan stepped in, closing the door behind him. "You asked to be notified if anyone lingered too long with Liora."

Lucien’s gaze slowly rose. "Who?"

"The assistant...Theo. He brought her medicines. Stayed longer than necessary. They talked. She smiled. Rowan paused. "She promised him something."

Lucien leaned back in his chair, silent.

Rowan added, "It didn’t seem like plotting, but... warmth."

Lucien chuckled darkly, though his jaw tightened. "Warmth. We’re in Petra, not a poetry house."

"I’m telling you this because I know what you told Beatrice that she’s just another part of the Queen Dowager’s plan. But you don’t treat her like a pawn."

Lucien got up and paced slowly toward the window. "That’s because I don’t know what she is yet. She’s not trained, not polished like court spies. But she’s not empty either. And now..." he turned to Rowan, "we have a new element."

Rowan raised an eyebrow. "Theo?"

Lucien gave a curt nod. "Keep an eye on him. If he oversteps, I’ll remove him."

Liora moved through the quiet infirmary, laying out jars of tincture and sorting herbs. Theo was already there, cataloguing dried bark samples. When she approached, he looked up and smiled.

"Didn’t expect to see you working today. You were restless last night."

Liora avoided his gaze. "Work helps."

"Lucien," Theo said the name bluntly. "He’s complicated."

She turned to him, surprised. "You barely know him."

"I’ve seen enough men like him. Cold on the outside. Always calculating. He’s a prince, Liora. They don’t bleed for people like us."

Liora bristled. "He’s not like that."

Theo narrowed his eyes slightly. "Really? He questions your past, threatens your present, and keeps you guessing. And you’re still defending him."

Before Liora could respond, Beatrice entered with her usual calm grace and sharp eyes. "The estate physician will arrive soon for the Petra reports. Be on your best. We’re not here to impress Lucien. We’re here to serve the people of Petra."

She turned to Liora specifically. "And you...you’re to bring the full documentation of your intervention with Lady Cecelia. Don’t forget. Her recovery was... noticed."

Liora nodded, glancing briefly at Theo.

As Beatrice left, he leaned closer. "Just be careful. Not all storms come with thunder."

Lucien leaned against the stone pillar outside the council chamber. The envoy from the capital had just left. The seal on the scroll bore Queen Dowager Lilian’s mark.

The message was brief but potent:Keep Petra stable. Do not fail me again. Your enemy lies closer than you think.

Lucien crushed the scroll in his palm.His mind spun Theo, the capital, Liora.

And a creeping suspicion he couldn’t shake.

Something is about to shatter.

The stone-paved courtyard had been arranged for a rare gathering, an effort by Beatrice to calm the rising restlessness among the Petra officials and staff. A long table was set in a semi-circle beneath the vines, a modest affair with local fruits, flatbread, and wine. Lucien hadn’t planned to attend. But he did.

Liora stood near the head of the table, her hands folded. She wore a simple dusky-blue dress Beatrice had found for her appropriate, demure. Theo stood to her right, explaining something about plant extracts to a small group. Liora smiled politely, listening.

Lucien entered without announcement, his coat still dusty from inspection rounds. Conversations stilled momentarily. Eyes flicked to him, then away. He scanned the gathering, his gaze finding her instantly.

She noticed him and gave a soft nod cordial, respectful.

But Theo, standing beside her, remained where he was.

Lucien crossed the courtyard and stopped beside them. His presence pulled tension into the air like a taut string.

"You’re explaining herbs to an herbalist?" Lucien said coolly to Theo.

Theo smiled back, unfazed. "Not herbs. Treatment philosophy. Liora’s approach is intuitive but sometimes lacks recordkeeping. I offered to help refine her work."

Liora’s eyes darted between the two. "Theo has helped," she said quickly, trying to soften what was brewing.

Lucien didn’t take his eyes off Theo. "Helpful men don’t linger. They offer, then leave."

Theo gave a small shrug. "Sometimes, lingering reveals more."

Beatrice, standing nearby, noticed the ripple in the atmosphere and decided not to interfere. Instead, she guided two staff members toward the far end of the table.

Lucien finally turned to Liora. "You should sit. The sun’s sharp today."

Liora hesitated, unsure if this was an order or concern. "Yes, Master," she said softly, choosing to step back and walk toward the shaded seating.

Theo watched her go, then looked back at Lucien. "You’re protective of her."

Lucien’s voice dropped. "I’m protective of what’s mine."

Theo smirked. "That’s the difference between us."

Before Lucien could respond, Samuel emerged from the corridor, nodding slightly. A signal. Something was waiting.

Lucien didn’t spare Theo another word. He followed Samuel to the private archway leading into the estate.

Samuel laid out the message.

"The border reports were falsified. The envoy from Velaria who was ’injured’ during the ride—he’s not injured. He’s missing."

Lucien’s expression darkened. "And Petra’s gates were open that night."

Samuel added, "There’s more. The missing envoy was last seen with a woman from the merchant quarters. Description... vague."

Lucien stepped toward the window, looking out at the courtyard where Liora sat now, sipping water, speaking to Beatrice.

"Keep this quiet," he said. "I want the name of every woman who entered through the east side that day. Start from the brothels and work up."

Samuel nodded. "And the envoy’s scrolls?"

Lucien’s hand tightened on the window frame. "Burned before we arrived. Whoever did this knows how to clean up after themselves."

The mystery had widened and someone in Petra was playing a game Lucien hadn’t yet seen the board for.

And in the middle of it all... stood Liora.

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