Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 58: Where are you from?

Chapter 58: Where are you from?

Seeing that her attempt to provoke Ellora had failed, Gwen swiftly devised a new strategy.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said sweetly, stroking her flat belly. "You know, the king told me... if it’s a girl, he will bring her the stars. And if it’s a boy..."...er voice took on a sly edge..."he will bring him the world."

The implication was clear. Gwen was hinting at carrying the heir, a direct threat to Ellora’s position.

She wasn’t done yet. Watching Ellora prepare to leave, Gwen pressed on.

"Your Highness, I truly wanted to share this joyful news with you all, as we are in the same status, after all... But I wanted His Majesty to know first. And since he will be with me again tonight, I suppose I’ll have to wait until then to reveal it."

She let the words linger, watching for a reaction.

But it still wasn’t enough. She wanted to twist the knife deeper.

"We have been trying for so long," she continued, her tone growing more self-satisfied. "He told me how much he desires a child. And now... I am finally giving him one."

That was the final straw.

Ellora rose gracefully, her expression unreadable. "Lady Gwen, I wish you and His Majesty happiness," she said, her voice composed but distant. Then, without another glance, she turned and walked away.

For Gwen and the other concubines, this was a battle—a war of status, a fight for dominance in the emperor’s affections. But for Ellora, it was something far more painful.

At the Estate in the Forest

Far from the palace, Ellora’s sister, Layla, was facing a similar struggle.

She had been trying to hold a conversation with Lucien, but his attention was elsewhere. He was listening to his sister, reminiscing over the years they had spent apart.

"Mother made me attend every class, Brother," Layla sighed, seizing the opportunity to capture Lucien’s attention. "She insisted I become a princess who knows everything."

Lucien, however, was preoccupied with something else.

He had asked Mira to bring Liora to join them for lunch. For Liora, this could either be good news or bad news. Why? Because as Mira had informed her, both princesses and Lucien’s men would be present. And in her current state, she hardly looked fit to be seen among them.

But Lucien had his reasons.

He could see through Layla’s intentions. Yesterday’s events had left a bitter taste, and while he still didn’t fully understand Liora’s circumstances, he was the kind of man who would help a stranger in distress.

And yet, it had happened in his own house.

If he had been awake, things would not have escalated to such an extent. And worst of all, it was his mother who had made Liora endure it.

At the very least, he could show her some courtesy now.

But Liora wasn’t ready to go downstairs and share a meal with them. The very thought unsettled her.

Sensing her hesitation, Mira suddenly had an idea. She stepped closer and placed her hands gently on Liora’s shoulders, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Madam... what if Master has started feeling a little warmth toward you?" she teased, wiggling her brows.

Liora’s wide eyes blinked at her, her thoughts scrambling to process the suggestion. The faint blush on her cheeks was hidden beneath the soft cotton patches covering her injuries.

Mira leaned in. "Mmm? Madam?"

"...?" Liora stared at her blankly, lost in thought. Then, after a moment of consideration, she mumbled, "Maybe...?"

Mira, who had been battling guilt over yesterday’s events, had a decent understanding of Lucien’s personality—at least from what she had heard from Scarlet, his late wife. Though Lucien had never known about Mira’s time serving Scarlet, Lilian had suspected it. And the moment she had caught sight of Mira, she had been removed from Scarlet’s service entirely.

Liora tilted her head, still uncertain. "So what do you suggest, Mira?"

Mira clapped her hands twice, her enthusiasm unwavering. "I think, Madam, we must go and have a meal!" Without waiting for a reply, she hurried to the chest, rummaging through its contents for an appropriate dress, ensuring Liora would look her best.

But Liora’s instincts whispered warnings. Something felt off.

"Why would he?" she thought, her fingers tightening over the fabric of her sleeve. "Maybe he’s just feeling guilty?"

Then, something clicked in her mind.

"Mira..." she called hesitantly.

Mira, still searching through the chest, turned around. "Yes, Madam?"

"You mentioned the man who helped us yesterday, didn’t you?"

Mira, focused on digging through the garments, answered absentmindedly, "Yes, Madam."

"Sir Samuel," she muttered, as if testing the name on her tongue.

Mira glanced at her briefly before returning to her task. "Yes, that’s him."

Liora’s brows furrowed. He was the same man who saw me in that room... but he was drunk, right?

Unconsciously, she raised her hand to her lips, nibbling on her fingernail—a habit of hers when she was nervous.

"Is it safe to go down there?" she wondered. "Maybe... facing it would be better."

Before she could dwell on it further, Mira’s voice rang out.

"Found it!"

"What is that?" Liora asked, eyeing the fabric Mira held in her arms.

Mira stepped closer, holding up the dress with a proud grin. "We must change into this, Madam. Let me help you."

Liora frowned. "But I just had a bath and already changed into this one, Mira."

"Yes, but this one is so dull, Madam! Why not wear something prettier?" Mira pouted, trying to win her over. "There are two princesses in the house, yet why not be the prettiest of them all?"

Before Liora could protest further, Mira was already untying her dress, working swiftly.

A while later, Mira finally stepped back, satisfied. "You look stunning, Madam!"

Liora glanced at her reflection in the mirror. She had to admit, Mira had chosen well. The green satin dress was plain yet elegant, off-shouldered and light—nothing overly extravagant, but it suited her.

"That’s fine, but Mira," she pointed at her face, "I still have cotton patches on."

Mira pressed her lips together, as if trying to think of a response that would convince Liora to stop worrying.

Liora sighed. "Fine... If you insist, we’ll go." She reached out, holding Mira’s hand before walking toward the door.

Mira wanted to do something good for her mistress, but by the time Liora’s makeover was done, they had missed breakfast. The servants were already clearing the table. Even Samuel had joined them.

As they entered the room, Lucien sensed their presence. He knew exactly who was standing behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He had been the one to summon her, yet now he refused to acknowledge her.

Layla and Samuel took notice immediately. Layla, sitting to Lucien’s right, had a clear view of the door, while Roseria and Rowan turned in their seats to look.

Liora hesitated at the entrance, half-hidden behind Mira. Sensing her reluctance, Mira stepped aside, silently encouraging her to move forward.

Roseria’s gaze lingered on Liora’s face. The cotton patches were unmistakable. She recalled the events of the previous day and felt a pang of pity. She knew all too well—bruises and slaps were nothing unusual in the palace.

Liora and Mira bowed. "Master Lucien."

Lucien remained still, his expression unreadable as he continued eating. He made no reaction, no acknowledgment of her presence.

The silence that followed was deafening.

One by one, the others turned their eyes toward him, waiting.

Layla wanted to sneer, to remind Liora of her place—why would she even think she belonged at their table? But instead, she masked her true feelings behind a pleasant smile. Rising gracefully from her seat, she said,

"Don’t mind Lucien. He doesn’t like talking while eating." She glanced at him briefly before walking over to Liora. "Come, sit here."

She led Liora to a seat beside Rowan, who was next to Roseria, before returning to her own place.

Then, with the same deceptive kindness, Layla turned to Mira. "Maid, why don’t you go ahead and bring a plate for your Madam?"

Mira’s eyes flickered toward the table, already set with more than enough food. Why would her Madam need a separate plate? Sensing Mira’s hesitation, Layla smiled sweetly.

"I had Beatrice prepare a special soup for her," she explained smoothly. "I was going to send it to her room, but since she’s here, she might as well have it now."

Mira frowned slightly. Something about Layla’s tone unsettled her, but she had no right to refuse.

"It’s good for the skin," Layla added with a dismissive wave. "Go on, don’t keep us waiting."

Mira hesitated, glancing at Liora for confirmation. Liora, understanding Mira’s reluctance, gave a small reassuring blink. That was enough. Mira turned and left the hall, though not without another glance back.

Across the table, Roseria’s gaze shifted back and forth between Layla and Liora. Something was off.

Liora found herself seated opposite Samuel. He was watching her intently, though she wasn’t sure why. Meanwhile, Rowan seemed unsure how to react, and Layla was acting as if she had the authority to host Liora, treating her like a guest rather than someone who belonged here.

Wanting to appear even friendlier, Layla started, "So, Liora, I imagine this must all feel overwhelming. Things have been happening rather quickly, haven’t they?"

Liora shook her head. "Not at all."

The air was thick with unspoken words, and although it was her first time having a meal with them, she wasn’t naive to the underlying tension. "I’m glad you asked me to join," she added softly.

Though her voice was quiet, the silence in the room made every word crystal clear.

Layla leaned forward slightly, smiling as if genuinely interested. "Then let us get to know you better."

At those words, three people subtly perked up, though they all pretended otherwise. Helia had yet to send a full report on Liora’s background, so any conversation was an opportunity to gather more information.

Liora hesitated before answering, "Miral. House of Wutia." Her voice was soft, uncertain.

This time, it was Roseria who spoke. "Is that near the capital?"

Liora was unused to being questioned so directly, but oddly, she didn’t mind.

"I... I suppose so," she murmured.

Something about this moment felt significant. Whether it was the subtle interrogations or the quiet, expectant gazes, Liora couldn’t tell.

But one thing was certain—she had stepped into unfamiliar territory.