Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 144: There’s a leak

Chapter 144: There’s a leak

Beatrice led Liora through a side passage near the greenhouse. It is a part of the estate rarely used. The stone steps were worn, and the walls smelled faintly of dried herbs and damp ink. Liora followed in silence, her slippers whispering against the floor.

"I thought you hated secrets," Liora finally said, half-joking.

"I do," Beatrice replied, "but some truths are best given in smaller pieces."

They arrived at an arched doorway with an iron handle. Beatrice pushed it open to reveal a narrow room lit with oil lamps and an old wooden table at the center. Stacked on it were scrolls, sealed letters, and even some parchments with burned edges.

"What is this?" Liora asked, stepping closer.

"Reports," Beatrice said. "Old letters. Some of these are from Queen Dowager Lilian herself, others from nobles who once served the former king. This room was once used by the estate’s steward before he fled during Lucien’s disgrace."

Liora stared at one parchment. Her fingers grazed the wax seal but she didn’t dare break it.

"These were supposed to be destroyed," Beatrice added. "But I saved them. Thought they might prove useful one day."

Liora looked at the woman, startled. "You kept them... for Lucien?"

"I kept them for truth," Beatrice said, walking around the table. "If Lucien is to survive in the web this court is becoming, he will need every edge he can get."

Before Liora could ask more, footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor.

Beatrice’s expression tightened. She snuffed the nearest lamp and motioned Liora to stay silent.

A voice, younger and confused, called out, "Beatrice?"

It was Mira.

She stumbled into the chamber, two leaves stuck in her braid, eyes wide. "I was looking for the salve basket but..." She looked around, blinking rapidly. "Did I find a war chamber?"

Beatrice closed her eyes. "You found trouble."

Liora stepped in before Beatrice could scold. "She’s harmless. Let her stay."

Mira beamed. "I’m good at keeping secrets. Ask Jorell; I never told anyone about the biscuits he hides under his mattress."

Beatrice groaned.

Just then, a scroll slipped off the stack and unraveled slightly. Mira leaned in and pointed, frowning. "Wait. This symbol, I saw this before."

Liora and Beatrice looked at her.

"Where?" Beatrice asked.

"In the infirmary’s storage. There’s a box of old gauze rolls... one had that same crest stamped on its lid."

Liora exchanged a look with Beatrice. "Show us," she said.

Elsewhere, in Petra’s grand palace, Lucien handed over a sealed note to one of Samuel’s trusted riders.

"Send this to Rowan. I want him to start looking into the mining villages near Ismorthe. Discreetly."

The rider bowed and left.

Lucien stared at the fading light beyond the glass windows, thoughts thick.

The rebellion brewing in the south... Queen Dowager’s hidden moves... Liora, who was no longer just a pawn...

Everything was beginning to connect or unravel.

Mira padded quickly across the corridor, her braid swinging behind her as she led Liora and Beatrice toward the infirmary. The air smelled faintly of mint and iron, the scent of healing and pain mixed into one.

They entered the dim backroom of the infirmary, where unused chests were stacked under linen sheets. Mira crouched down and pulled at one of the smaller boxes wedged between two old shelves.

"This one," she said, brushing away the dust. "It was tucked beneath the bottom rack."

Beatrice crouched beside her, lifting the lid with careful fingers.

Inside were some brittle gauze rolls, cracked glass bottles, and at the bottom, a worn envelope sealed with the same crest they saw earlier. A serpent coiled around a sword.

Beatrice and Liora exchanged glances.

"This isn’t from the estate," Beatrice murmured. "This is a southern clan’s sigil... exiled long ago."

"Then what is it doing in our infirmary?" Liora asked, frowning.

Beatrice didn’t answer. She took the letter and slipped it inside her sleeve.

"We keep this to ourselves for now," she said. "Lucien must see it first."

Just then, a knock came at the infirmary’s main door.

"Miss Liora," called a guard’s voice, "you’re summoned to the front garden." His Highness returned."

Liora blinked. "Already?"

Beatrice nodded. "Go. And don’t mention anything. Mira and I will handle this part."

As Liora stepped out, her heart raced. Lucien had returned earlier than expected and something told her his return meant more than just a visit.

In the estate’s front garden, Lucien stood beneath the shadow of the cedar trees, speaking with Rowan. His cloak was dusted with the scent of travel, and his eyes though tired were sharply focused.

He turned as he sensed Liora approach.

"You came," he said quietly.

"I was told," she replied, keeping her voice measured.

Rowan gave a brief nod and stepped away to give them space.

Lucien walked a few steps closer, his gaze flickering over her face.

"I need your help," he said.

Liora arched an eyebrow. "Another secret mission?"

"Not quite." He held out a folded note. "The envoy we intercepted had markings tied to the same southern symbol, the one connected to the brothel incident."

Liora’s breath caught. That symbol again.

"We’ve been looking into something similar," she admitted, hesitantly.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"Mira found something. Beatrice kept some letters, one bore the same crest."

Lucien nodded once, slowly. "Then it’s worse than I thought."

He folded his arms, gaze fixed on the garden wall. "There’s a leak. Someone in this estate is passing supplies to those exiled groups. And if that’s true... we’ll need to flush them out before the court hears of it."

Liora’s voice softened. "So what do we do?"

Lucien turned back to her, and this time his voice was low and steady. "We start drawing the net tighter. From now on, no outsider leaves this estate without being questioned."

"And those inside?"

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. "We start watching them too."

Behind the garden wall, a pair of eyes watched, hidden. A figure slipped away, footsteps silent in the grass.

War wasn’t declared yet, but it was already crawling under their feet.

The faint sound of retreating footsteps vanished into the trees as Lucien narrowed his eyes. He could feel it eyes that had no business watching. Rowan returned moments later, signaling with a subtle nod.

"Someone was listening," he said under his breath.

Lucien didn’t answer at once. Instead, he handed Rowan the note Liora had brought. "Get this compared with the seal Mira and Beatrice found. Quietly."

Rowan took it, his jaw tightening. "Any suspicions on who it could be?"

"Plenty," Lucien replied. "But no proof. Not yet."

Liora stood quietly beside them, her thoughts racing. The weight of her role was growing heavier every passing day. But strangely, Lucien wasn’t pushing her away anymore. His eyes didn’t hold contempt today, only caution. It wasn’t closeness, but it wasn’t hostility either.

As Rowan left, Lucien turned back to her.

"I’ll have Beatrice and Mira bring the letter to my chamber," he said. "You’ll be there too."

"Why me?" Liora asked, confused.

"Because you’re the only one they talk freely to," Lucien said simply. "You watch them. I watch the others."

The words hung between them, strange in tone but oddly trusting.

Just as they were about to return, a young steward rushed toward them, breathless.

"Your Highness! A message... from the capital. Urgent."

Lucien took the scroll and unrolled it.

His jaw tightened. "They’ve called another court session in three days. They’ve found the merchant who smuggled the brothel girls. He wants protection in exchange for information."

Liora asked, "Will he testify?"

Lucien’s eyes darkened. "Only if we get him to court alive. And I don’t think he’ll survive another day where he’s kept."

"Then bring him here," Liora suggested impulsively.

Lucien glanced at her. "To the estate?"

She didn’t flinch. "We have guards, Rowan, Beatrice, Samuel... and it’s safer than letting him rot in a public jail."

Lucien raised an eyebrow, impressed but cautious. "You’re brave, Liora."

She blinked. "Or just foolish."

He allowed the faintest smile. "Both, but useful."

The breeze ruffled her hair as she turned her face away. She still didn’t know whether to feel warmth at his rare praise or brace for another storm. With Lucien, both always came together.

Meanwhile, in the inner quarters of the estate, the new servant girl, Anaïs, the clumsy, wide-eyed helper who Mira had recently taken under her wing, was dusting near the kitchens when she overheard a whisper between two senior stewards.

"...they say the mark was sent from Ashven."

"Not possible. That country’s border hasn’t moved since the treaty."

"Yet the crest was seen again. The snake and sword. That means something."

Anaïs gasped and dropped a tray, causing the men to turn.

"You...what did you hear?" one of them barked.

"N-nothing! I just..."

Before he could question further, Mira appeared behind them. "She’s with me."

Her voice was firm enough to send the men away.

Mira looked at the girl. "You need to be careful. This place is a spider’s web right now."

Anaïs nodded nervously. "What does it mean? The mark?"

Mira hesitated... then whispered, "It means this house isn’t as safe as it seems."