Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 33: Stubborn Bastard

Chapter 33: Stubborn Bastard

After he dismissed the maid, Lucien had lost his appetite to have anything; the ache of his memories was more burning than the cut on his arm.

No, not just his appetite; the taste of that damn soup had sent his mind spiraling into a place he had buried long ago. A place filled with warmth, laughter, and the softest whispers of love, only to be drowned in betrayal by that woman, the one who once held his heart in the palm of her hands. The one who had destroyed his heart with her own hands.

Lucien leaned back in his chair, his fingers tightening into fists against the table. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the wooden surface; somehow it was mirroring the storm in his chest and his heart; that incident made him to trust no one since then.

The only ones left by his side were Rowan, Samuel, and Helia. They never asked too many questions, never expected kindness or warmth; they just devoted their loyalty to Lucien, but he could still offer his kind self to them without losing himself, but love?

It was a fool’s game. If life were a garden of flowers, his had been burned to the ground in a single night. The people he once cherished had turned their backs on him, leaving him to rot under the heaviness of false accusations. If it weren’t for the wars he fought and the battles he won, he would have been rotting in a dungeon like a caged beast.

All because of her.

His fingers tapped against the table, a slow rhythm. His gaze drifted beyond the large glass windows of the dining hall, settling on the open backyard of the estate, which led to the forest. In the midst of that darkness, a pair of glowing eyes stared back at him. Lucien didn’t flinch as he was staring right into them, his blue eyes meeting the gaze of the creature in the distance. Lucien’s lips curled into a half smile as stood and walked out of the house.

In the Morning,

As the first light of dawn spilled through the curtains, casting soft golden hues over the estate. The household was already awake, buzzing with household work. At Lucien’s door, Samuel and Rowan stood side by side; their usual banter was absent as they knocked on Lucien’s door and had gotten no response.

Rowan knocked again, louder this time. "Master?", still nothing,

Samuel exchanged a glance with Rowan, raising his eyebrows, "Is not he taking long before to open the door?, Rowan too was surprised. "Yes, it is, man. By this time, Master would have cursed me for being late, as he was the one who wanted to discuss." Rowan sighed, "Maybe we should just enter." Rubbing the back of his head, he looked at Samuel once before pushing the door open.

In his room, Lucien lay sprawled on his stomach, with his white robe draped loosely over him. His dark hair was a mess, strands falling over his forehead, damp with sweat.

After watching Lucien asleep, Samuel nudged Rowan, Rowan’s eyes went dark as he looked back at him, and Samuel’s lips turned into a grin He again nudged, saying "Go ahead, come on", Rowan, who was being pushed by Samuel, Turned around and snarled softly, "Why do not you take the chance this morning? I am not going ahead." Folding his arms, Rowan squinted his eyes towards Samule.

As for Rowan, who has been reprimanded by Lucien for being late, he always got the best of the punishments from Lucien; the list included many things, but what Rowan hated was jobs of a servant, but for a warrior like Rowan, he took them as mere tasks and an insult for doing them, and Samuel had always enjoyed watching Rowan do what he did not like. Now, if Lucien, who might be just resting, saw Rowan being the one who disturbed him and woke him up from his sleep, this would be another punishment for Rowan and this time he won’t give in.

Samuel, who sighed, gave up and stepped ahead. "Master..." Samuel called for Lucien and stepped closer to him, scanning Lucien’s face, whose skin was flushed and his breathing was uneven.

Rowan, after watching that Lucien had not reacted yet, came forward too, sensing something; he touched Lucien’s forehead and furrowed his brows. "He’s burning up."

Samuel too reached forward, placing a hand against Lucien’s forehead, only to hiss and pull back. "Damn it, he’s got a fever."

Samuel cursed under his breath and turned on his heel. "I’ll bring the physician and see how dare he does not come here today."

Rowan stayed behind, kneeling by the bedside. He had seen Lucien injured before, wounded in battles, bleeding on the battlefield, but never like this; it looked like he was unconscious. This wasn’t just an injury; maybe it was exhaustion.?

Rowan clenched his jaw. "You stubborn bastard, are you unconscious?" he muttered, shaking his head. "Were not you hurt on your arm yesterday?"? Rowan crouched beside the bed, "Let me just check it, okay?".

Lucien stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, his brows drawing together, but he didn’t wake.

Lucien’s injured hand was buried beneath him. Rowan hesitated; a sense of guilt was twisting in his gut, and he extended his calloused, scarred hand towards Lucien. The fabric of his robe’s sleeves felt rough. He moved slowly with care, easing Lucien’s arm away from his body, which was pressing on it, an inch at a time. He watched Lucien’s face, searching for any sign of uneasiness or tightening of his brows.

Finally, as Lucien’s arm was free, Rowan looked for the injury from yesterday’s fight, so he had to open his robe by turning Lucien on his back. After Rowan did that, he saw the wound, which was scarred, and the skin around it had turned blue. which meant the knife was poisoned Rowan’s eyes widen in shock, but as Lucien was unconscious, he could only wait for Samuel and physicians.

After an hour later, footsteps echoed through the hall as Samuel returned, "Here, sir, this room." He was asking the physician, who was wearing a pale blue uniform with a crown sign made on its sleeves, who was followed by his two assistants wearing the same colored clothes but without the crown sign, and one of them had a black eye. Rowan arched his eyebrow when he saw the black-eyed assitant. He looked at Samuel, who just shrugged back at him.

Beatrice was also standing at the doorway along with other maids, biting her lips with arms crossed and worry on her face for her master.

"His fever’s high, and he is injured on his arms," Rowan said, stepping back from Lucien’s bed.

The physician wasted no time when he saw Lucien’s condition. He immediately settled down his bag and kneeled beside the bed. "We’ll need cold clothes and medicine. Someone fetch water."

Beatrice snapped her fingers at the servants, "Have not you heard the physician? Fetch the water and clothes; be quick," sending them scrawling away.

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