Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 80: We make our own

Chapter 80: We make our own

The summons came at dawn.

An official crest sealed the message: By order of His Majesty, King Alden Valcour, all noble houses are required to present representatives for an urgent court assembly.

Lucien tapped the scroll against his palm, jaw tightening. "They move faster than expected."

Rowan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Do you think it’s about the border attack?"

"No," Lucien said grimly. "It’s about us."

At the Royal Court

By midday, the throne hall buzzed with tension. Lords and ministers crowded in, whispering behind embroidered sleeves, speculating on the real reason behind the sudden assembly. Every house had sent someone, except Lord Cedric Vane, who was notably absent.

At the foot of the dais, King Alden sat tall and cold, his gaze sweeping the crowd like a blade.

Beside him stood a man few recognized, General Arman Wren, once thought dead after the siege at Fallbury Hill. His armor gleamed black, the insignia of the old royal guard stitched into his mantle.

The hall quieted as Alden rose.

"We stand at the edge of war," he said, voice steady, every word falling heavy against the marble. "Not from foreign threats alone—but from rot within our own walls."

A stir ran through the room.

Alden turned, motioning to a servant who unrolled a tapestry-sized map before the court. Red marks flared across the borders, points where scouts had gone missing and villages burned.

But more chilling were the black marks inside the kingdom, places where supplies had been stolen, where officers had been bribed, and where whispers of sedition grew.

One black mark hovered dangerously close to Cedric Vane’s holdings.

The king’s eyes sharpened. "I call for a tribunal. A cleansing. Each house will prove its loyalty, or be stripped of its title."

The words hit like a hammer.

Nobles glanced nervously at each other, careful to mask their expressions.

Among the crowd

Liora, veiled and hooded, stood near the back. She was not meant to attend , officially, she was merely a concubine, a political offering. Yet Rowan had managed to slip her in, hidden among the lesser attendants.

Her heart thudded.

This was not just court politics anymore.

This was a hunt.

And someone was about to be named prey.

Beside her, Rowan murmured, "Look three rows up. By the right pillar."

She followed his gaze , and saw a woman she didn’t recognize. Tall, draped in muted gold, her face half-shielded by a thin scarf. But her eyes were clear. Sharp. Watching Lucien.

"Who is she?" Liora whispered.

"Adrienne Vane," Rowan replied grimly. "Cedric’s daughter. The one who vanished years ago."

"And she’s here now?"

"To collect debts," Rowan said. "Or to spill blood."

In the shadow of the palace walls, two figures waited atop tired horses.

Twins.

Mirror images of cruelty and cold smiles.

They carried no banners. Wore no royal seals. Yet their knives gleamed clean and ready.

"Signal when the call goes out," one twin muttered, cracking his knuckles. "We’ll cut through them before they blink."

"And if the call doesn’t come?"

The other smiled thinly.

"Then we make our own."

The court broke into fragments after Alden’s announcement.Some lords hastily convened with their advisors; others slipped away under the guise of urgent business, faces pale and tight.

But Lucien remained still. Calm. A lion surrounded by hyenas.

Rowan returned to his side with silent steps. "The bait worked. They’re rattled."

Lucien’s mouth curved into a cold smile. "Now, we see who bites first."

Back at Lucien’s Estate

The carriage jolted along the cobbled road as Lucien and Liora returned to the estate under heavy guard.Inside, Liora sat opposite him, the heavy veil still clutched in her lap, her mind racing.

She finally broke the silence. "Adrienne Vane... she was watching you."

Lucien’s eyes flickered, an old memory surfacing.A young girl, wild and stubborn, swearing to avenge her family’s disgrace at a garden party years ago.

"She has reasons," Lucien said quietly. "Vane’s blood runs bitter."

Liora shifted closer, voice low. "And now?"

"Now," he said, glancing out the carriage window, "she’ll try to drown me in it."

Meanwhile, Inside the Palace

General Wren remained behind after the nobles departed. Alone with Alden, he unfurled another, smaller scroll onto the council table.

A list of names.

Marked in two columns: Loyal and Suspect.

Alden’s finger tapped one name in particular: Marquess Hildebrand Alstone.

"He’s been pushing border trade harder than usual," Alden murmured. "Could be nothing. Could be a supply route for a mercenary army."

Wren grunted. "If it’s Hildebrand, he won’t act alone."

A pause. The heavy weight of understanding between them.

"There’s a gathering tomorrow night," Wren said. "Not sanctioned. Nobles meeting in secret."

Alden’s eyes gleamed. "Send our shadows. Let’s see who tries to weave another crown behind my back."

Later, In Lucien’s Private Study

Lucien gathered Rowan, Samuel, and a handful of trusted men around the map of the capital.

Samuel pointed to a nondescript villa etched near the western market. "I heard whispers. Some nobles loyal to Cedric plan to meet there. No banners. No formal invitations. Only those ’in the know’."

Lucien’s fingers drummed the table. "A rebellion before the tribunal even starts?"

Rowan shrugged. "Or just cowards looking to save their skins."

Either way, Lucien couldn’t ignore it.

"Prepare two groups," Lucien said. "One to watch the meeting from outside. One to plant ears inside."

"And what about the estate?" Samuel asked, concern flickering. "We leave it lightly guarded, we invite knives into our own bed."

Lucien’s gaze shifted to Liora, who was standing quietly near the doorway.

"No," Lucien said. "We do not leave it unguarded."

He turned to Samuel. "Assign men inside and outside. No uniform. No crest. Only those you would trust with your own blood."

Samuel saluted and disappeared into the shadows.

Liora stepped closer, her voice steady. "What about me?"

Lucien studied her for a long moment."You," he said finally, "will keep your eyes open."

"And if I find something?"

"Then," Lucien said, a sharp smile playing on his lips, "you’ll be sharper than half the fools that call themselves nobles."

Unknown to Them, Across the City

Adrienne Vane stood in a crumbling tavern, her gold scarf discarded.Before her knelt three masked men, blood on their hands.

"You will strike," she said softly. "Not at the king. Not yet."

She held up a simple painted sigil; it was a blackthorn.

"Strike him first."

Lucien Blackthorne’s name was etched into her vengeance.

And the clock had begun ticking.

The capital city wore a shroud of fog that night.In narrow alleys and quiet streets, hooded figures slipped between shadows, moving like whispers.

Inside a weather-beaten villa west of the marketplace, the gathering had begun.

No heralds. No banners.Only muted greetings and cautious glances.

Candles flickered in iron sconces, casting jagged shadows across the faces of those who dared defy the king.

At the heart of the gathering, Marquess Hildebrand Alstone raised a goblet, voice carrying low and dangerous:

"His Majesty has lost the people’s faith. His brother roams free, building influence unchecked. Shall we sit idle as the house burns down around us?"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the assembled nobles.

One woman, veiled in silver, stepped forward.Adrienne Vane.

"The tribunal will be a spectacle," she said coldly. "Nothing more. If we want true change, we must act before Alden binds the court tighter."

Eyes flickered to one another. Doubt. Greed. Fear.

"And who," a wary baron asked, "would lead this... change?"

Adrienne’s lips curved into a cruel smile.

"You will see soon enough."

Across the Street, Lucien’s Watchers

Hidden among the stacked crates of an abandoned merchant stall, Samuel watched the villa through a spyglass.

Rowan knelt beside him, sword sheathed but hand never far from the hilt.

"Too many to count," Samuel muttered. "Not all fools, either. I spotted two generals’ aides."

Rowan grunted. "Enough to make a noise. Not enough to topple a king."

Still, Lucien had not underestimated them.He never did.

Back at the Estate A Different Threat

Meanwhile, at Lucien’s estate, the air was no calmer.

Liora wandered the dimly lit corridors, an unease prickling her skin.Something felt wrong.

She caught the faintest scrape of boots along the polished floors too soft for a servant, too heavy for a noblewoman.

Her heart raced.

Quiet as a whisper, Liora followed the sound toward the rear of the house.Toward the old servant’s wing abandoned since Lucien’s disgrace.

There, slipping through the narrow hallway, she caught a glimpse: a figure in dark, mud-smeared clothes, carrying a thin, curved dagger.

An intruder.

She froze.A thousand possibilities flashed through her mind: betrayal, assassination, spying none good.

Instinct took over. She spun on her heel, running back toward the main halls, not caring for silence now.

At the Secret Gathering

Inside the villa, Adrienne stepped closer to Hildebrand and whispered something that made the marquess stiffen.

Outside, Rowan stiffened as well.A flash of movement, a signal from a hidden rooftop.

"Samuel," Rowan said, sharp and low, "we have company."

From the mist emerged a squad of palace guards led not by Alden’s colors, but another: muted red and black.Prince Cedric’s private forces.

Samuel hissed under his breath. "So it begins."

Rowan pulled his hood lower. "We need to warn Lucien."

Before the first blade fell.

Inside the Estate Liora’s Courage

Back at the estate, Liora stumbled into a patrol of disguised guards, Lucien’s loyal men.

"There!" she gasped. "Near the servants’ wing!"

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