Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 150: If that’s all.

Chapter 150: If that’s all.

"The status of a concubine in your estate, said to be practicing medicine without a license."

Lucien leaned back in his chair and exhaled.

"So you intend to publicly assess a concubine in court."

Elira did not waver. "If she claims to heal, she must be able to explain her methods under royal protocol."

"And if she does not?" Samuel asked sharply.

Kaelis stepped in then, tone lighter but deadly underneath. "Then she would be removed from this estate and placed under royal discipline."

Lucien’s jaw clenched.

Just then, the chamber doors opened again.

Liora was led in wearing a soft ivory dress, her hair half-pinned, unsure if she had been summoned for punishment or ceremony. Her eyes swept the room saw Kaelis, the Petra soldiers, and the strange woman.

Then her gaze met Lucien’s.

He didn’t look away.

Rowan whispered beside him, "This isn’t just about her credentials anymore. They’re testing how far they can push."

Lucien remained still.

Elira stepped forward, pulling a scroll from her sleeve.

"Liora Miral," she said clearly. "Do you recognize this herbal formula written in your hand? Used in Lady Cecilia’s treatment?"

Liora’s fingers twitched at her side. She saw the paper. It was hers, a note she had passed to the steward to prepare the herb.

"I do," she said, her voice calm but soft.

"Explain its purpose. Now. Before this court."

Silence blanketed the chamber.

Lucien watched her.

And for the first time, Liora didn’t cower.

She stepped forward slowly. "The formula was made to reduce internal swelling and ease clotting. Lady Cecilia had signs of a suppressed internal injury and low-grade infection. I used what I had."

Elira raised an eyebrow. "And where were you trained?"

"My uncle taught me. He was a field apothecary during the border conflicts. I learned by watching, assisting."

"Not licensed?"

"No."

Elira considered that.

Lord Kaelis smiled thinly. "Then by Petra law, she’s a fraud."

Lucien finally stood.

"If she’s a fraud," he said darkly, "why is Lady Cecilia walking today?"

Kaelis said nothing.

Lucien continued, voice steady, "You’re not here for her. You’re here to remind me of my place. But let me make it clear, this is my estate. My court. If Petra wants to send spies in healer’s robes, let them try."

A hush spread.

Then Elira said, softly, "I wasn’t sent to spy, Prince Lucien. But I see now that perhaps the girl isn’t the threat you assumed."

She turned back to Liora and gave her a small nod.

"You will not be punished. But from today onward, you will not administer medicine unless supervised by someone recognized by the court."

Lucien was about to object, but Liora stepped forward and bowed.

"I accept."

Lucien blinked. She hadn’t looked to him for defense. She had defended herself.

As the delegates left, Lord Kaelis paused near Lucien and said quietly, "They won’t all be as kind as Elira next time."

Lucien didn’t respond.

But Rowan noticed his knuckles were white at his sides.

The sound of the closing chamber doors echoed long after the Petra delegation exited. A hush settled again, but it was heavier now thicker with something unspoken.

Rowan stepped forward. "They’ll send more."

Lucien didn’t respond. He was staring at the spot where Liora had stood, her words still replaying in his head. No tremble. No tears. She had stood her ground in front of the same court that once stripped him of everything.

"She didn’t flinch," Lucien muttered under his breath.

Samuel, arms crossed, nodded with reluctant respect. "And she didn’t drag your name into it either."

That shouldn’t have mattered, and yet it did.

Lucien turned on his heel. "Double the guards around the estate. And make sure nothing leaves this house not through words, scrolls, or servants."

Rowan’s brow furrowed. "You’re expecting retaliation?"

"I’m expecting them to test me," Lucien said tightly. "And next time, they won’t use a court healer they’ll send someone willing to spill blood."

Meanwhile, in her chamber, Liora sat by the window, her knees pulled to her chest. Her fingers still trembled from how hard she’d tried not to shake earlier. Tessa handed her a warm cup of water with ginger.

"You were brave," Tessa said softly. "You didn’t even blink."

Liora gave a faint smile. "I thought I’d faint."

"But you didn’t."

She looked out the window. The gardens were being raked after the rainfall. The guards’ steps seemed louder than usual. She noticed more of them now, stationed where they weren’t the day before.

"Was I wrong to admit it?" Liora asked suddenly. "To say I did treat Cecilia?"

Tessa shook her head. "If you hadn’t, they would’ve said you lied. But now... they know you’re not just a pretty face dumped into this estate."

Liora’s fingers tightened around her cup.

"You’re something more."

A knock came.

Tessa turned to the door.

"Come in," Liora called.

It was Rowan.

He looked briefly around the room, then straight at her.

"Prince Lucien would like a word," he said.

Liora stood, trying not to let her thoughts race.

"Now?"

Rowan nodded once.

As she followed him through the corridor, Liora couldn’t help but feel the air had shifted again. Something subtle, but sharp. The way the guards nodded to her, or how the servants looked slightly longer in her direction.

Not fear. But... awareness.

She had been noticed.

And worse , she could now be used.

When she entered Lucien’s study, the candlelight flickered against the map of Petra still lying open on his table.

Lucien didn’t look up.

"Sit," he said, his voice controlled.

Liora obeyed.

There was a beat of silence.

Then Lucien said, without meeting her eyes, "You shouldn’t have spoken so calmly."

She blinked. "I thought you’d be... angry if I panicked."

He looked up at her then, sharply. "I’m not angry at you."

Liora tilted her head, puzzled.

"I’m angry," Lucien said slowly, "that they cornered you to test me."

That... surprised her. He wasn’t upset about what she did. He was upset they used her.

Liora opened her mouth, then hesitated.

"You defended me," she said, "but I didn’t want to be the reason they questioned your power."

"You weren’t," Lucien replied, almost too quickly.

"You’re not."

And that was it.

He looked away again, but the air between them had changed.

Not soft. Not warm.

But aware.

She stood slowly. "If that’s all..."

Lucien gave a nod.

But as she turned to go, he said quietly, "Don’t let them make you afraid."

Liora stopped at the door, hand on the frame. She didn’t turn back.

"I’m trying not to."

And then she left.

Behind her, Lucien finally let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The estate had grown unusually quiet in the hours after the court confrontation. Whispers had slowed, doors were shut tighter, and even the wind seemed to avoid the windows. But within the darker corners of the estate, not all silence was peace.

In a chamber tucked behind the archives of the estate, Samuel adjusted a sealed scroll and laid it before Lucien.

"This was intercepted," he said. "Routed through a lesser courier on the Petra border."

Lucien took it, brow furrowing. "How recent?"

"Two nights ago," Samuel replied, his voice low. "It’s encoded. But the seal matches a minister from Alden’s secondary council."

Lucien didn’t speak. He broke the wax with a knife, eyes scanning the contents. His face remained unreadable...until the last line.

He exhaled sharply and handed it to Rowan, who leaned in.

"’If the estate remains divided, we strike from the coast. Petra will hold the prince’s throat.’" Rowan read aloud, then went pale. "They’re planning war."

"Not yet," Lucien muttered. "But they’re gathering reason to."

Samuel tapped the table. "And they’ve already named you the crack in Alden’s wall."

Lucien folded the scroll. "Then we patch it before they pour through."

Elsewhere, Liora was not in her chambers. She had wandered down into the older parts of the estate...guided by curiosity and, perhaps, unease. The confrontation in the court had stirred something in her chest she couldn’t quite name.

She walked the dim hallway, brushing her fingers along stone walls worn smooth by time. Ahead, a soft sound echoed...something like laughter.

Turning the corner, she nearly bumped into a girl.

"Oh! Apologies..." Liora stepped back.

The girl looked up, startled. She had curly auburn hair tied in a messy knot and ink smudged across her sleeves.

"You must be Lady Liora," she said, eyes widening. "I’m...uh, I’m supposed to bring you this." She thrust a rolled parchment into Liora’s hand.

Liora blinked. "And you are?"

"Oh, sorry! I’m Maren," she said quickly, tucking hair behind her ear. "I help with archives. Sort of. Not really. I trip more than I help, but the steward said I should try assisting you... sometime? I think?"

Liora stared for a second and then, to her surprise, smiled.

Maren grinned back awkwardly. "I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just got excited. I’ve never seen someone argue with nobles and win. It was like watching a poem punch someone."

Liora laughed, genuinely this time. "That might be the nicest thing anyone’s said about me since I arrived."

"Well, it’s true." Maren shrugged. "Anyway, if you ever need a mess made worse, I’m usually somewhere between the ink shelves and the wrong door."

And just like that, she scurried away, bumping into a pillar as she went.

Liora looked down at the parchment Maren had delivered. It wasn’t official. Just a scrawl:

"Midnight. Greenhouse. Trust no one else."