Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 152: Stonevale Ruins

Chapter 152: Stonevale Ruins

Later that night, the silence of the estate was disrupted only by the wind rustling through the corridor banners. Lucien stood alone in the war chamber, the map from earlier still open on the table. But his eyes weren’t on the territory markings; he was tracing his memory, retracing each detail of Liora’s expression.

She had flinched when he asked if she was hiding something.

Lucien wasn’t a man given to superstition, but he believed in patterns. And Liora’s pattern was shifting.

Rowan entered quietly, glancing at the map.

"You’re still looking at Petra’s lines?" he asked.

"No," Lucien muttered, "I’m looking for something that’s not here."

He didn’t say what.

Rowan stood beside him. "Samuel sent word. One of the border posts near Miral’s edge has gone dark. No communication in two days."

Lucien didn’t flinch, but he exhaled slowly. "Miral again."

"You think it’s related?"

Lucien didn’t answer right away. "No attacks. No signs of struggle. Just silence."

Rowan frowned. "Ghost towns don’t go quiet without a reason."

Lucien’s gaze shifted to a marked circle on the edge of the map. A region he hadn’t looked at in years, old ruins, just south of Miral’s family estate.

"Send scouts to this sector. Quiet ones. No banners."

"And if someone’s already there?"

Lucien finally looked up, voice low. "Then we find out who’s digging into ghosts."

Meanwhile, in her room, Liora didn’t sleep.

Her hands kept reaching for the hidden map, then withdrawing. She had stared at it too long already, memorizing every bend of the marked road, every faded sigil.

She had made her choice.

Dawn had barely crept into the sky when she slipped from her chambers, wrapped in a servant’s shawl. Her path was planned: she would ride with the supply cart headed for the western orchard, a place she could quietly slip away from.

But what she didn’t know was that Lucien had already given orders to Samuel to watch that cart.

As the sun rose over the hills, casting golden lines across the stone arches, Samuel stood on the balcony above the yard, arms crossed, watching her.

"She thinks she’s going alone," he muttered.

Behind him, Lucien’s voice cut through the still morning air. "Let her."

Samuel turned, surprised.

"If she’s walking toward something," Lucien continued, "I want to see what’s calling her."

"You don’t trust her."

"I don’t trust anyone," Lucien said, his tone calm. "But I want to believe her."

He didn’t say it out loud, but he knew: Liora wasn’t wandering blindly. She was searching. And someone, somewhere, had left her clues.

But the truth had cost people their lives before. And Lucien wouldn’t let that price fall on her, not without knowing what she was about to uncover.

Liora adjusted the coarse shawl on her head and walked behind the cart, her eyes low like the rest of the laborers. The orchard trail twisted westward, just beyond the watchtower’s view, perfect for slipping away. She knew she had to go alone. Not even Beatrice could be trusted, not now, not when she might have ties to those who sold her.

Each step further from the estate gave her chest a strange mix of relief and fear. She didn’t know if Lucien was watching, and a part of her hoped he wasn’t.

But she underestimated him.

Hidden on horseback just beyond the ridge, Rowan kept pace, shadowing the supply trail from the trees. And not far behind him, Lucien rode in silence, his cloak blending into the thick woods. He hadn’t told Rowan his full reason for following her because even he hadn’t sorted it out yet.

By midday, the cart stopped at a resting ground.

Liora stepped away slowly, as if looking for water. Her fingers traced the hidden cloth map stitched into her blouse’s lining. The location was clear: Stonevale Ruins, barely a day’s walk from the trail.

She turned toward the hillcrest path and began walking her heart pounding louder with each step away from the road.

Behind her, Rowan narrowed his eyes. "She’s really going somewhere."

Lucien didn’t answer.

By twilight, Liora reached the old bridge leading to the outer woods. Moss covered the stone, and vines curled around the broken arch. Beneath it, silence. No birds. No insects. Just the sound of wind whispering through old trees.

She had never been here before. And yet... her feet didn’t falter. It felt like something was waiting.

She stepped into the woods.

Hours later, the sun fully set. The forest was breathing with silence when Liora reached what looked like nothing just thick foliage and crooked bark. But then her fingers brushed over something smooth, stone. Carved.

She parted the vines to reveal a wall buried deep in green symbols etched into its face.

Not of this era.

Not spoken aloud in her lifetime.

But she recognized one.

A sigil. The same crest that had once been in her grandmother’s locket. The same crest worn by the old steward who vanished before her tenth birthday. Her pulse skipped.

Before she could trace it fully, the sound of a boot crushed a twig behind her.

She spun around, eyes wide.

Lucien stood there in the half-dark, one brow arched, his cloak thrown back, his eyes not angry but curious.

"You found something," he said softly.

Liora blinked at him, caught between fear and breathlessness. "You followed me."

"Of course I did." His gaze dropped to the wall behind her. "Because you weren’t wandering. You were remembering."

She didn’t know what to say.

Lucien stepped closer, gently brushing aside the same vine she had moved. His fingers froze.

He recognized the sigil too.

But he didn’t say how.

Lucien’s fingers hovered just above the carved sigil, his expression unreadable. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by something quieter. Thoughtful. Almost shaken.

Liora’s voice was a whisper: "You know it... don’t you?"

Lucien didn’t answer immediately. The symbol etched in the stone had been lost to records for decades. Only those from the inner circles of the old palace, from before his father’s reign, would even recognize it.

But he did.

It was the mark of the Old Virelles, a family said to have been wiped out before Lucien was even born. Traitors to the crown, accused of hoarding royal secrets during the last purge of the royal library.

And yet the mark was here on a wall buried in a ruin deep in the woods and tied to her.

He turned to Liora, his voice low. "Where did you learn about this place?"

"I didn’t," she replied, eyes still wide. "I just followed what my grandmother told me. She said if I ever needed answers, I should find the wall that forgets."

Lucien turned toward the symbol again, jaw tight.

"This place wasn’t on any royal map," he murmured. "Even my father couldn’t find it."

Liora frowned. "But what does it mean?"

Before he could answer, a faint metallic clink echoed from deeper in the woods.

Lucien raised a hand instantly, his body tense, stepping in front of her.

Liora reached for the rock wall for support, pulse racing. "What was that?"

"I don’t know." Lucien’s voice was barely audible. "But we’re not alone."

He stepped carefully forward, eyes trained on the darkness between trees.

Then, a flash of silver.

A dagger.

Lucien pushed Liora aside just in time as the blade embedded itself into the wall behind them, right through the center of the sigil.

She gasped, looking up.

And from the shadows, a figure emerged. Cloaked. Silent. Masked in deep green.

Lucien didn’t wait; he moved fast, drawing the short blade from his waist, parrying the next attack.

But the figure wasn’t aiming to kill; it was testing.

Liora stepped back, eyes fixed on the attacker. There was something familiar in the way they moved. Not palace-trained. Not a common assassin.

The masked figure finally leapt back, disappearing into the woods in a blur, but not before dropping a parchment near the base of the wall.

Lucien walked over and picked it up, scanning it.

His eyes narrowed. "Well, they certainly want to play games."

"What is it?" Liora asked.

Lucien turned the parchment toward her.

One phrase written in old royal script: Returnbefore the crown remembers."

Liora’s heart pounded. "What does that mean?"

Lucien looked out into the woods, jaw clenched. "It means someone else knows about this place. Someone from the court. And they’re watching us."

Lucien tucked the parchment into his coat, his expression guarded again, almost unreadable. "We leave. Now."

Liora didn’t question him this time. The presence of the masked figure had unsettled her more than she expected. She kept close as Lucien led the way back through the trees, faster this time, every step a warning that the quiet of the forest was no longer safe.

By the time they reached their horses, the sun was beginning to dip, casting a deep orange glow over the horizon. Liora was quiet as Lucien helped her onto the saddle, his touch firm but distracted. His gaze kept sweeping the tree line.

Once they were mounted, Lucien turned to her, voice low. "Not a word about this place to anyone. Not even Samuel. Not Rowan."

Liora nodded. "I understand."

He paused for a second longer, his gaze lingering on her face like he was trying to read something. She held it this time, steady and calm.

When they returned to the estate, the atmosphere had shifted subtly. The servants looked more alert. Tighter in formation. Something had happened while they were gone.

Samuel was already at the entrance when they arrived.

"You were gone long," Samuel noted, handing the reins to a stable boy.

Lucien nodded once, terse. "We took a longer route."

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.