Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 147: Because I trust you

Chapter 147: Because I trust you

Before Lucien could speak, the door creaked open, Rowan entering with a half-bow. "My lord. There is... a visitor. She says she’s sent from the southern territories, but she carries no documentation."

Lucien didn’t flinch. "Description?"

"She’s young. Possibly in her early twenties. Clumsy as a loose hinge. Nearly knocked over the coat stand," Rowan added, his lips twitching.

Liora blinked, setting the parchment down. "Who would come unannounced? In these times?"

"I intend to find out," Lucien replied, already moving.

When Lucien entered the receiving hall, the girl was standing by the ornate pillar, examining a hanging lantern with wide eyes, nearly touching it. Her cloak was half falling off her shoulder, a leather satchel dragging behind her. The moment she saw Lucien, she jumped almost literally and bowed so quickly she smacked her forehead on the back of a chair.

Lucien stared. "...Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes, my lord! Completely, just... That’s a very low chair, isn’t it?" She adjusted herself, cheeks red. "I mean, good evening, Lord Lucien. I bring... word."

"From whom?"

She straightened, looking far too serious for the chaos she just embodied. "My name is Elira, daughter of a humble herb merchant from Barenloch. My father worked closely with the southbound militia. Before his passing, he recorded strange dealings, supplies meant for military units being redirected. He asked me to deliver these to someone who’d care."

She handed Lucien a small leather roll, carefully sealed. He didn’t open it at once, his eyes still narrowing at her. "Why come alone? Why now?"

Elira hesitated. "Because my uncle is one of them. And he wants me dead."

Liora, who had followed Lucien quietly and now stood behind the curtain near the hallway, inhaled sharply.

Lucien looked at the satchel, then at the girl again. "You’ll remain here. Under watch. If what you say is true... you may have delivered something very useful."

Lucien’s footsteps echoed as he paced the length of the side hall, his mind racing through the new information. Betrayal. In his own household. The thought soured his stomach, and the anger that had been building since his mother’s betrayal now seemed even more complicated. Edgar... the trusted steward. It was unfathomable.

As he reached the door to his study, his hand lingered on the cold brass handle. A fleeting moment of hesitation. He could confront Edgar now, but there were more pressing matters at hand. He needed to understand the scope of this treachery. Who else was involved? How deep did it go?

With a sharp breath, Lucien entered, but as his gaze swept over the room, it landed on Liora. She was standing near the window, looking out into the courtyard, as if waiting for something or someone.

"Liora," Lucien’s voice was low, his tone carrying an edge of unease that he didn’t want to admit to himself.

Liora turned, her face a mask of composure, but her eyes betrayed her curiosity. "Master Lucien, is everything well?"

There was a pause before Lucien answered, his voice almost distant, "I need to speak with you."

Liora nodded and stepped forward, her brow furrowing. "Is something wrong?"

He gestured for her to sit across from him. His mind was still tangled with thoughts of the betrayal, but he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Not even with her. Not with anyone.

"What I’m about to tell you," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "is not for everyone’s ears."

Liora’s gaze softened, her expression full of concern. "What is it? What’s happening?"

Lucien leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming softly on the armrest. "There are spies in the house, Liora. Someone is feeding information to the House of Grenthel."

The name hit her like a cold slap. The House of Grenthel. The one family that had always been a thorn in the Blackthorne family’s side. But why now? Why were they so interested in his estate?

"Do you know who it is?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with apprehension.

Lucien shook his head. "I don’t know yet. But I have my suspicions."

Liora stood and began pacing, trying to make sense of the situation. "This doesn’t make sense. The House of Grenthel... why would they suddenly target you?"

Lucien let out a bitter laugh. "A question I’ve been asking myself since I arrived here. But the truth is, Liora, it’s not just about me. It’s about power. Control. The Blackthorne name, though disgraced, still holds weight."

Liora stopped pacing and turned to face him. "And you think someone in this household is helping them?"

Lucien’s eyes darkened. "It’s the only explanation. Someone here is feeding them information, and I need to find out who."

As Liora stood there, her mind racing, she noticed something in his eyes, a mix of frustration and resolve. Lucien was no stranger to conflict, but this was different. This wasn’t just about reclaiming his lost title or avenging his past. This was about survival.

"I won’t let them take this from you," she said, her voice unwavering. "We’ll find the traitor."

Lucien looked at her, the flicker of something softer passing through his eyes. "I’m glad you’re here, Liora."

The sincerity in his voice was unexpected, and for a moment, the distance between them seemed to shrink. Liora’s heart skipped a beat, but she quickly masked the feeling with determination.

"I will do whatever I can to help," she said, her tone resolute. "We won’t let anyone tear this apart."

Lucien nodded, his eyes meeting hers. There was a flicker of something unspoken between them, something that, for now, neither of them fully understood. The tension that had been building for days, weeks even, was still there, thick and palpable.

But for now, they had a common enemy. The shadows of betrayal, however close they were, would not stop them. Not yet.

"Good," Lucien said, standing up from his chair. "We need to act fast. I’m trusting you to keep this to yourself for now."

Liora nodded. "Of course. You can count on me."

As they made their plans, neither of them noticed the quiet figure standing in the doorway, someone who had been listening in on their conversation from the shadows. It was a fleeting glance, barely visible, but enough to set the stage for the next twist.

A new player had entered the game, and they were far closer than either Lucien or Liora could have imagined.

The next morning, the air in the estate was unusually still. A fog hung low over the courtyard, as if the land itself was holding its breath.

Liora stepped out of her chamber with a slight chill brushing her arms. Something about the silence unsettled her. Beatrice wasn’t outside with her usual herb basket, and even the guards at the corridor seemed more alert than usual.

She made her way toward the inner hall, where Rowan was seen hurriedly moving from one chamber to another. Upon spotting her, he gave a slight nod but didn’t stop. Odd. He usually had something sarcastic to say.

"Rowan?" She called out gently, but he didn’t pause. That was enough to nudge her steps faster toward Lucien’s study.

The doors were partially open. Inside, Lucien stood with a scroll spread wide across his desk. A map. Not just any map, one marked with crimson pins and black lines curving like veins across its surface. On his right stood Samuel, his jaw clenched, arms folded behind his back.

"You’re late," Lucien murmured without looking up.

"I wasn’t aware I was summoned," Liora replied, stepping in quietly.

Lucien finally glanced up. His face was unreadable, but the glint in his eyes had sharpened overnight. He gestured for her to come closer.

"This," he said, pointing to a cluster of markings, "is the region known as Aurven’s Pass." It lies along the border with Dorean Province. There’s been unusual activity reported here, unregistered convoys moving under noble banners that shouldn’t be there."

Samuel cut in, "We believe someone high up in the court is offering aid to Dorean envoys."

"Dorean?" Liora asked, her brows drawing together. "They’re allies, aren’t they?"

"They were," Lucien said grimly. "Until the trade disputes last winter. They’ve been testing our borders ever since. A few days ago, we intercepted one of their scouts near Petra."

Liora swallowed. "And you think someone from inside is helping them?"

Lucien nodded. "A minister, maybe even a courtier. We don’t know how far this goes yet. But someone’s been feeding them information. And the estate’s involvement..." he tapped a section near Petra, "...is more than a coincidence."

Samuel added, "That’s why we’re sending someone there discreetly. No fanfare. No flags."

"You want me to go?" Liora asked, her voice calm but firm.

Lucien looked at her for a moment. "No," he replied. "Not yet. You’re not ready for that. But I want you to keep an eye on the estate in my absence. Watch Beatrice, Tessa... and anyone who speaks too freely."

Liora was stunned. This was the first time he had directly asked her to protect his home.

"You’re leaving?" she asked, keeping her voice steady.

Lucien gave a slight nod. "Tonight."

"And what if something happens while you’re gone?"

"That’s why I’m asking you," he said. "Because I trust you."

That word. Trust. It lingered in the air between them.

She gave a faint nod. "Then I’ll do what I must."

Lucien folded the map and handed it to Samuel. "Prepare the horses. And make sure no one outside this room knows."

As Samuel left, Lucien turned to her. "And Liora..."

"Yes?"

He hesitated...just briefly. "Don’t die."

Her lips twitched with a faint smile. "Only if you don’t first."