Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 155: Someone behind Hills

Chapter 155: Someone behind Hills

Lucien nodded. "King Alden is holding court in two days. The topic...Petra’s border incidents. Disappearances. Smuggling."

"Then it’s about the same girl," Liora whispered.

"Maybe," Lucien said. "Or maybe they already suspect I know something."

He turned to Rowan. "Prepare my travel gear. We ride at first light."

Rowan hesitated. "And Lady Liora?"

Lucien looked at her. For a second, something unreadable crossed his face. "She comes with me. If this court is about Petra, she has every right to stand there."

Liora swallowed. "And if they question me?"

"Then speak what’s safe. I’ll handle the rest."

In a quiet chamber not far from the king’s study, Queen Dowager Lilian sat before a long table. Candles flickered across its polished surface, reflecting the faces of her allies...an aging nobleman with a hawk’s gaze, a veiled woman from the desert court, and a young man in ministerial robes.

"The ledger has been recovered," Lilian said calmly. "They’ll return soon."

"And the girl?" the nobleman asked.

"She still believes she’s in control. But once the court begins... she’ll see just how little power she truly has."

After a chilling pause.

"Shall we move the other piece into position?" the veiled woman asked.

Lilian smiled faintly. "Yes. Please Bring in Elena."

The sound of hurried boots echoed through the eastern corridor as Rowan moved swiftly to finalize the departure plans. Inside Lucien’s chambers, Liora stood before a modest trunk, her fingers grazing over the simple garments folded inside. She wasn’t packing for elegance, just practicality.

Behind her, Beatrice stood silently with a cup of warm herbal tonic.

"You should eat something before you leave," Beatrice murmured, placing the cup on the table. "Traveling to the capital isn’t light business, especially when summoned to court."

Liora nodded but didn’t speak. Her mind was still at the Petra orphanage, still trapped in the pages of that cursed ledger. She’d barely slept.

Beatrice observed her in silence. "You’ve changed."

Liora looked at her.

"You walk like someone who has something to lose now."

Liora pressed her lips together. "I’ve always had something to lose. No one just noticed before."

Beatrice gave a small, knowing smile and turned away.

The court was unusually crowded. Not with nobles from faraway lands, but with figures of military rank, scholars, and key ministers. King Alden sat at the head of the long elevated throne dais, his crown resting lightly on his brow. Dressed in deep navy with silver trimming, he looked every inch the ruler controlled, unreadable, and dangerous.

To his right stood Layla Valcour, the Queen Consort, her presence poised but clearly alert. On the left, Grand Minister Seraphin was flipping through scrolls.

"Summon Lord Lucien Blackthorne," Alden said coolly.

The herald announced him. Lucien entered the court alone first, cloaked in deep forest green, eyes unwavering. Liora followed a step behind, her hood slightly pulled forward, but not enough to hide her entirely.

Gasps echoed. Whispers rushed across the hall. "The concubine?" someone whispered. "Why would she...?"

Lucien bowed before the King, then raised his gaze.

Alden’s voice carried over the murmurs. "We understand there have been irregularities near Petra. Missing records. And now smuggling, of both goods and people."

Lucien replied evenly. "I believe the trail leads back to this court, Your Majesty."

A few heads turned. Even Layla looked up at that.

Liora’s stomach tightened.

"You dare suggest that treason hides beneath this very roof?" Alden’s tone was sharp, dangerous.

Lucien’s smile was almost imperceptible. "I only suggest that the roots of rot often begin in comfort."

A hush fell.

"Do you have proof?" the Grand Minister asked.

Lucien tilted his head slightly. "I have questions. And I’ve brought someone who may hold the answers if permitted to speak freely."

Alden glanced toward Liora. "Who is this girl?"

Lucien didn’t answer immediately. He turned slightly toward Liora, who stepped forward, lifting her chin, even as her hands trembled.

"I am Liora Miral," she said, voice firm. "Daughter of no title. But witness to the wrongs at Petra. And holder of a name that was erased."

Alden narrowed his eyes. "What name?"

Liora paused. "Elena Virelles."

A silence fell like thunder.

Behind the king, the veiled courtier who had arrived just that morning tightened her gloved fingers around her fan.

Somewhere across the chamber, Minister Therin, a rarely seen figure who had served during the reign of the previous king, shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Alden stood slowly. "I believe we have much to discuss." His gaze fell sharply on Layla, then the Grand Minister.

He looked at Lucien. "And you, dear brother...should remain here for a while longer."

Lucien bowed faintly. "As your Majesty wishes."

From the shadows of the court, Queen Dowager Lilian, who had just arrived from the private gallery, stepped forward into view, eyes never leaving Liora.

And from a high corner of the hall, where guards stood in rows, the newly positioned envoy from the Eastern provinces, a young nobleman with sharp dark eyes, observed the entire exchange with quiet interest.

He was smiling.

The murmur that had rippled through the hall after Liora’s revelation still lingered in the air like smoke after fire. Alden remained standing, his pale blue gaze fixed on her. Elena Virelles. A name buried long ago, sealed in forgotten ledgers, dismissed as the casualty of a fire a lie carefully constructed.

"Lady Virelles," Alden finally said, choosing the title deliberately. "You say you were a witness to the wrongs at Petra. Do you claim someone within this court orchestrated it?"

"I do not claim," Liora said softly, her fingers curling into her skirt to mask the tremble, "I only say the wrongs were protected by those with the power to erase."

Layla leaned forward on her throne, a flicker of something like annoyance, perhaps anxiety was crossing her eyes. Grand Minister Seraphin narrowed his gaze, glancing briefly at Minister Therin, who hadn’t said a word.

"Then name them," Alden demanded.

Liora looked to Lucien, who gave a small nod, not commanding, not requesting, but offering his presence as a shield.

"I have no names yet," Liora said. "But I have letters. Numbers. Routes of transport hidden under donations and construction bids. My mother’s name was not the only one that vanished."

Before the king could speak, one of the senior scribes rushed forward and whispered to the grand minister. Seraphin’s brows furrowed, then relaxed as he looked up.

"Your Majesty," he said, "we have indeed found traces in the eastern archives ledgers that show Petra receiving royal funds years after it was reported abandoned."

Gasps again. Layla’s hand gripped the arm of her throne.

Alden’s expression remained unreadable. "And this was never reported?"

Seraphin looked directly at Therin. "That department fell under the Ministry of Infrastructure at the time."

Minister Therin, a tall man with thinning grey hair and an ancient sigil pinned to his chest, stood slowly. "Your Majesty, forgive me. I was told the Petra region was no longer active. I merely signed what was approved beneath me."

"And who gave the final approvals?"

Therin looked around the court, his eyes finally landing on the veiled courtier standing near the shadows, a woman dressed plainly but with distinct poise. "The treasurer. Lady Marenne."

All eyes turned.

Lady Marenne removed her veil. A striking woman in her early fifties, her expression was cool. "Your Majesty, I acted under orders of the Crown’s highest authority. If those funds were misused, it is not for a mere treasurer to question."

Alden stepped down from the dais.

"And who," he asked, voice quiet and thunderous all at once, "is the highest authority you refer to?"

Lady Marenne gave a light bow.

"The Queen Dowager."

Lilian, who had stood silently, finally descended into the hall. Her gown was modest, but her presence commanded stillness from all.

"I gave no such orders," she said.

Lucien tilted his head. "Then perhaps someone used your seal, Your Highness?"

Lilian turned her eyes to Liora. "You wish to dig up graves, girl?"

"I only wish to find who buried them," Liora said, chin raised.

In the gallery, the Eastern envoy exchanged glances with one of his aides.

The tension in the hall turned razor-thin.

Alden returned to his seat. "Then it seems we will need a full investigation into the Petra records. Until then, no minister is to leave the capital."

"And the girl?" Layla asked coldly. "She is but a concubine...does this court recognize her testimony?"

Lucien stepped forward. "This court may not. But I do."

Alden raised a brow. "And you would risk your name for hers?"

Lucien smiled. "I already have."

Outside, thunder rolled over the distant hills.

And in the shadows of the court’s south wing, someone slipped away a messenger in a plain cloak, carrying news not to a minister nor a courtier, but to someone far beyond the capital’s walls.

A name had been spoken. And names, once spoken aloud, could never be buried again.

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