Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 66: Pretend

Chapter 66: Pretend

Rowan exclaimed, "Watch your way...!" until he saw the face of the maid. "Tessa..." he muttered, eyebrows pulling together.

"Sir Rowan!" Tessa jumped back, her face turning pale.

"Tessa, what are you doing here?" Rowan narrowed his eyes at her, his voice calm but suspicious.

"I... I was here to..." She glanced behind nervously, hands twisting the edge of her apron. "Yeah...fruits... I was here to deliver fruits to Her Majesty Layla."

Rowan raised a brow. "Oh? But the Princess’s room is that way..." He turned and pointed toward the opposite side of the hallway. "See? That’s the way to the princess’s room."

"Oh...thank you!" Tessa gave a quick bow and hurried off, her shoes tapping nervously on the floor as she disappeared around the corner.

After she left, Rowan tilted his head slightly. But where were the fruits? he thought, taking slow steps toward Lucien’s room. His pace quickened the more he thought about it. Something’s off.

He arrived at the door and knocked twice, composed yet firm."Master Lucien?"No answer.

He waited a few seconds. Strange... Maybe I should wait a little longer.

Inside the room, Lucien and Liora were still standing close. Too close.

Liora’s hands were still caught in his grip, her back gently touching the wall. Her heart was pounding so loud, she could almost hear it. The scent of his coat lingered between them, warm and crisp, like woodsmoke and night air.

Lucien’s head tilted slightly, eyes studying her face. "You seem tense," he murmured, his tone teasing. "Am I that terrifying?"

Liora blinked. "What... is it you want me to do?" she whispered, brows furrowing as she tried to focus despite the flutter in her chest.

"Now we’re speaking," Lucien leaned in closer, brushing his lips near her ear. "We need to tell everyone that you carry my child."

His words sent a jolt through her body. Liora stiffened, eyes wide, breath halting.

Her throat went dry. "What?" she croaked.

Lucien pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. His smirk remained, but there was a sharpness in his gaze....like he was measuring her reaction.

"You heard me," he said quietly. "It’s simple. A child. My child. The news will travel faster than fire in a dry forest."

Liora’s mind was blank. Her lips parted, but no words came. She was stunned.

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Are you so excited that you’re speechless, Liora?" He chuckled, a low sound vibrating in his chest. "Or is it fear?"

She finally found her voice. "But... you said you would never be with someone... or anyone at all," she said, looking up at him with shaky eyes.

Lucien’s expression faltered for the briefest second before he chuckled again. "I am a man of my word." He moved one hand behind her, palm resting flat on the wall, trapping her in place.

"But just now..."

"That ’just now’ was the beginning," he said, his voice low but steady. "We don’t really have to be pregnant. We just say it."

Liora blinked in confusion. "So... a lie?"

"A strategic lie," he corrected her. "One that buys us time. One that keeps you close."

"But... how do we even announce something like that?" Liora asked, the knot in her stomach tightening.

Lucien tilted his head again, smirking. "You sound oddly eager, Liora."

Her face flushed slightly. "I’m not!" she objected quickly.

He stepped away from the wall, giving her space to breathe again. "We’ll plan it. You just follow my lead."

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. Liora flinched slightly at the sound.

Lucien turned his head toward it, a small sigh escaping his lips. "Tch... Always at the wrong time."

But Liora wanted to know something—something that would decide if she could trust him.

"So you’ll help me... after I help you. Yes?" she asked, trailing after Lucien as he walked toward his chairs.

Without turning back, Lucien replied in his calm, low voice, "I am a man of my word."

"Well then, Master..." Liora stopped and bowed lightly. "I, Liora Miral, accept your deal."

There was a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It felt strange and unexpected,but it felt good.

Lucien cleared his throat before speaking again, his tone turning serious. "Mind that you won’t speak of this deal to anyone. Not your maids, not a soul. Understood, woman?"

Liora nodded. "Yes. This is good. A help for a help."

"Shall I leave now?" she asked softly.

Lucien didn’t say a word, he just flicked his hand dismissively, signaling her to go.

Liora opened the door... only to freeze at the sight of Rowan standing right outside.

He looked stunned.

Rowan’s eyes shifted from her face to the door behind her. His brows furrowed in confusion, his finger twitching as he half-pointed at the room, as if asking, Did you really just walk out of there?

Liora blinked, then cleared her throat to break the awkward silence. "Lord Rowan, may you enter. My work here is done," she said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible.

She walked away quickly, maybe too quickly. If her cheeks weren’t still covered with soft cotton pads from earlier, her blush would’ve been impossible to miss.

Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

She crossed the hallway and entered her room, locking the door behind her with a soft click. With a light exhale, she dropped onto her bed and stared at the ceiling.

She wanted to think about the relief of it all...the hope that maybe she’d found the first crack of light in the darkness.

But instead...Lucien’s image flashed in her mind.

His closeness.His voice.His breath near her skin.

"Ahhhh!" Liora grabbed a pillow and pressed it over her face. "What am I even thinking?!"

Back in Lucien’s room, Rowan finally stepped inside—still visibly rattled.

Lucien raised an eyebrow, watching him like he was some kind of strange animal. "What’s with that look on your face?"

Rowan pointed dramatically toward the door. "Weren’t you the one who said you’d never let that woman have any space in your life?!"

Lucien’s expression didn’t change. "So what does that have to do with you?"

"Hmph! It doesn’t! But we must know what’s happening! What exactly are you doing? Are you hiding something?"

Lucien’s eyes darkened. He leaned back slightly, arms folded.

If I keep entertaining this idiot, he’ll start spinning a whole new drama.

"Careful, Rowan," Lucien said sharply. "You’re overstepping."

Rowan clicked his tongue but didn’t say more.

-----

Rowan clenched his jaw, holding back a dozen questions that burned on his tongue. But Lucien’s stare—calm, unreadable, and undeniably sharp—warned him not to push further.

"Fine," Rowan muttered under his breath. "Keep your secrets."

Lucien turned away from him and poured himself a glass of water from the silver jug resting on the table. The tension in the room still lingered, thick as fog.

Rowan watched his master closely. "You’re changing," he said quietly, almost to himself.

Lucien didn’t respond. He took a slow sip, then placed the glass down with a dull clink

"And change," Lucien finally said, "isn’t always a bad thing."

Rowan frowned but said no more. With a slight bow, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Meanwhile, Liora sat cross-legged on her bed, staring at the flickering flame of a candle on her nightstand. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her blanket, but her mind... her mind was far from calm.

She sighed.

This deal with Lucien—it meant protection, a purpose, maybe even a way to dig deeper into the secrets surrounding her parents’ death. But there was something else stirring in her chest. A weightless, fluttering sensation she didn’t want to name.

"Focus, Liora," she whispered to herself.

She stood up abruptly and walked over to the small mirror near her wardrobe. Her reflection looked tired, cheeks still slightly pink from earlier. Her eyes... they were glowing with something she hadn’t seen in a long time.

Hope? Or something else entirely?

She reached up to remove the cotton pads from her cheeks, gently tossing them into the basin.

Just then, there was a knock on her door. Three soft taps.

Her heart jumped. Was it him again?

"Who is it?" she asked, voice steady.

"It’s only me, Miss," came Milla’s voice—her personal maid.

Liora exhaled. "Come in."

The door creaked open and Milla stepped in, holding a folded cloth in her hands.

"I’ve brought your scarf, the one you asked to be mended. It’s ready now."

"Thank you," Liora said, accepting it.

Milla hesitated before speaking again. "Forgive me for asking, but... are you alright, Miss? You seem... different today."

Liora turned to face her with a faint smile. "I’m alright, Milla. Just... a lot happened."

"If anyone’s troubling you—"

"No one is," she interrupted gently. "I’ve just made a decision. One I believe is going to change things for me."

Milla didn’t ask further. She simply nodded and bowed before leaving quietly.

Once alone again, Liora sat back down.

I carry his child.

The false words felt strange even in her thoughts. How quickly everything had changed.

But the bigger question remained: Why did Lucien choose her for this?

Surely, there were other women—noble, graceful, far more suited to such schemes. Then why her?

Liora bit her lip.

And why did she feel a thrill at being chosen?

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