Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 67: Gaining his favor

Chapter 67: Gaining his favor

Meanwhile, not far from the east wing, Layla stood before her vanity, draping herself in a sheer, lavender robe as Tessa knelt behind her, brushing out the princess’s long golden hair.

"So?" Layla asked, her voice slow and smooth like poison laced in honey. "What did you see?"

Tessa gulped, hesitating for half a second before responding. "I couldn’t hear much, Your Highness... but the door was locked for a long time. And when Lady Liora came out... her cheeks were flushed, and her hands were trembling."

Layla’s grip on the ribbon in her lap tightened.

"Trembling, you say?" she echoed, her gaze icy in the mirror. "Did she look ashamed?"

"I—no, more like startled," Tessa replied quickly. "She acted strange. Spoke to Sir Rowan like she owned the place."

Layla’s lips curled into a tight, annoyed smile.

"She’s getting bolder. First, she clings to that concubine title like it means anything. Now she dares spend time alone in his chambers?" She stood abruptly. The brush in Tessa’s hand dropped with a soft thud onto the carpet.

"She was supposed to be humiliated. Broken. Not... smug."

Tessa looked up. "Shall I... keep a closer eye on her?"

"No," Layla said slowly, eyes narrowing as she walked to the balcony. "That would be too obvious now. We need to be smarter."

The cool breeze rustled the sheer curtains as Layla stepped out. Her fingers rested on the railing, gaze sharp as she looked out over the moonlit gardens. Somewhere behind those walls, Liora was sleeping, dreaming perhaps. Dreaming that she mattered.

"She thinks she’s gaining his favor," Layla murmured. "Let her believe that. The higher she climbs, the sweeter the fall."

Tessa remained silent, knowing better than to interrupt when Layla was plotting.

"I want you to prepare something," Layla continued. "A rumor. Something soft, small... like a whisper that floats through the court."

Tessa blinked. "About... Lady Liora?"

"Mm-hmm. Nothing scandalous....yet. Just enough to raise an eyebrow or two. Something that will make people question her presence in the prince’s chambers. I want them to doubt her."

Tessa bowed her head. "As you wish, Your Highness."

"Oh, and Tessa?" Layla turned with a honeyed smile, though her eyes were anything but sweet. "Let’s not mention this to anyone else. Especially not Mother."

"Yes, Your Highness."

As Tessa left the room, Layla turned back to the dark gardens, a glint of challenge flashing in her eyes.

"If she wants to play games," she said softly to herself, "then let’s see how well she plays mine."

The morning sun had barely touched the palace walls when a soft knock echoed on Liora’s door. She stirred, blinking herself awake. The warmth of the blankets had just begun to feel comforting when another knock followed, this time firmer.

"Yes, I’m awake," Liora called out sleepily, pushing her hair back as she sat up. Her body still tingled slightly from the events of last night—Lucien’s closeness, his breath at her ear, the weight of his words still resting on her heart.

She got to her feet and opened the door to find one of the palace maids, a young girl named Nella, standing with a tray.

"Breakfast, my lady," Nella smiled, but there was something in her eyes. Hesitation. As if she didn’t know whether to bow or run.

Liora stepped aside. "Thank you. Just leave it there."

As Nella placed the tray down, she hesitated again, then whispered, "If I may, Lady Liora... you should be careful."

Liora raised a brow. "Careful?"

The maid leaned closer, her voice barely audible. "There are whispers already. Some say you were in Prince Lucien’s room last night... that you came out looking... disheveled."

Liora’s breath caught.

"I—I wasn’t—" she started, but Nella shook her head quickly.

"I don’t believe them," she whispered. "But not everyone is kind here. Please be careful."

With that, the maid dipped her head and exited, leaving Liora frozen in place.

Her thoughts raced. Was this Layla’s doing? Tessa? Had Rowan said something?

"No one should’ve known..." she muttered under her breath, heart beginning to pound. Her mind flitted back to Rowan’s expression—half shock, half disappointment.

She paced to the small mirror and looked at herself. Nothing about her looked out of place now. But in the eyes of others, even a glance was enough to turn into a tale.

"We need to tell everyone that you carry my child..."Lucien’s voice echoed in her head again.

What if the rumors were part of his plan? What if he wanted people to start believing it already?

"No," she said firmly to herself, shaking her head. "He wouldn’t do that without telling me."

But still... the timing was too strange.

Liora dressed quickly, opting for a muted gown of pale blue and a half-veil to cover her hair. She needed air—clarity. And maybe... answers.

Across the palace, Rowan stood outside Lucien’s study, arms crossed as he waited. The moment Lucien opened the door, dressed in his usual black and gold attire, Rowan walked in without waiting for permission.

"You’ve heard it, haven’t you?" Rowan asked bluntly.

Lucien raised a brow. "You’ll have to be more specific. I hear a lot."

Rowan stepped closer. "The court is talking. They’re saying Liora spent the night in your chambers."

Lucien leaned against his desk, unbothered. "They can say what they want."

"You planned this?" Rowan’s voice dropped. "Is this part of your game?"

Lucien met his eyes, a smirk forming. "I didn’t tell them anything, if that’s what you’re asking. But if they’re guessing... let them guess right."

Rowan clenched his jaw.

"And what about her?" he asked. "Does she know what you’ve started?"

Lucien’s smirk faded slightly.

"She will."

The dining hall was buzzing—more than usual. Gold-rimmed goblets clinked, fine cutlery chimed against porcelain, but behind the elegance, sharp whispers threaded through the air like poison.

"Is it true?"

"I heard she was seen sneaking out at dawn..."

"Poor girl. Or clever—depending on how you look at it."

"They say she might be with child."

Layla Valcour sat at the head of the long table, fingers drumming against the polished surface. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes had a glint that could slice steel. Across from her sat Tessa, pretending to focus on her meal, though her ears were clearly stretched to every murmur.

"She must’ve done something to seduce him," Layla finally said, her voice soft but lethal.

Tessa kept her head down. "I...I saw her near his chambers last night. But she claimed she was delivering fruit."

Layla laughed without mirth. "Fruit, was it? Then she certainly bore a gift, didn’t she?"

Just then, the great doors creaked open.

Liora walked in.

Heads turned. Conversations dropped. All at once, it felt like every eye in the room landed on her. But she walked tall, spine straight, face calm, though her fingers were clenched tight around her skirts.

She approached the table, her eyes not on the food or the nobles, but on one man sitting with his back to her.

Lucien.

The prince had taken his usual place which was isolated, quiet, the black sleeve of his robe brushing against the hilt of his sword. He didn’t look up, but the faint lift at the corner of his mouth showed he knew she was there.

"Your Highness," Liora said clearly.

Lucien finally raised his eyes, his gaze locking onto hers.

"I need to speak with you. In private," she added.

Lucien glanced around. Everyone was still watching. Still listening.

"I see no need for privacy," he said lazily, gesturing to the seat beside him. "Speak freely."

Liora faltered—but only for a breath.

She stepped closer. "I don’t appreciate being part of your games," she said, just loud enough for those nearby to catch. "The court whispers as if I’m carrying your child."

Lucien tilted his head slightly, as if amused. "Do you deny it?"

"I deny being a liar," she snapped. "You told me we’d fake it....if we had to. But I was not prepared for this."

His eyes flickered...sharpened now.

"And yet... here you are," he said softly. "Drawing attention. Fueling the fire."

A few nobles gasped. Layla’s fork slipped from her fingers with a loud clang.

Liora’s cheeks burned, but she didn’t back down.

"If this is how you plan to use me, then I want no part of it," she said.

Lucien stood up slowly, towering over her. For a heartbeat, silence returned.

Then he leaned in slightly, voice calm, but cold.

"You accepted the deal, Liora Miral. And I suggest you remember what you asked in return before you think about backing out."

Her breath hitched. His eyes were no longer playful—they were warning her.

"Fine," she muttered, turning away. "But next time you plan to make a scene... leave me out of it."

She stormed out of the dining hall, the soft rustle of her dress the only sound echoing behind her.

Lucien sat back down, calm as ever. Rowan, watching from the corner of the hall, shook his head.

"This," he muttered, "is only the beginning."