Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 160: The border bleeds

Chapter 160: The border bleeds

The silence that followed hung thick between them, not uncomfortable but dense with unspoken words.

Liora stepped closer, her voice cautious. "And if Norwain tries again? You didn’t reject them outright."

Lucien’s back remained to her as he spoke. "There’s no power in rejecting poison. It must be kept near... studied, contained, and used when needed." He turned his head slightly, his profile cutting through the candlelight. "They won’t be the last to come whispering offers. I need them to think I’m listening."

Liora nodded slowly. She had seen politics from a distance all her life, through rumors and gossip and the wrath of nobles, but standing here, seeing Lucien weave through the court’s traps with such cold calculation, it felt different. More dangerous. More real.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the door creaked again.

Samuel entered, bowing slightly. "My lord. Beatrice sends word. The patient Liora tended yesterday, the stable boy, is awake. But... asking to speak only to her."

Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Only her?"

"Yes," Samuel confirmed. "He’s been quiet until now. But he says he remembers something important about the night the envoy first arrived in Petra’s borders."

Liora blinked. "He was found unconscious outside the grain depot, wasn’t he?"

Samuel nodded.

Lucien’s tone sharpened. "Go. Hear him out. If he remembers anything unusual, report to me directly."

Liora turned to leave but paused at the door. "And Lucien?"

He looked at her, surprised she had used his name so easily. She didn’t even seem to notice.

"I’ll be careful," she said simply. "We both have things to protect."

And with that, she left, her figure disappearing into the torch-lit corridor.

Lucien stood there longer than he meant to, eyes fixed on the place she’d been.

It was Rowan who entered next, arms crossed. "You trust her too easily."

Lucien didn’t flinch. "No. I watch her closely. That is not the same as trust."

Rowan scoffed. "Then why do I keep catching you defending her at court meetings?"

Lucien turned away. "Because wolves don’t waste their time biting harmless deer."

"But deer can turn into blades when cornered."

Lucien didn’t reply.

Because Rowan wasn’t entirely wrong.

Outside, Liora made her way to the infirmary. The estate was calm, with the scent of morning dew still lingering in the breeze. She wasn’t sure what the stable boy had seen, but if it connected to Norwain, then the danger was closer than any of them thought.

And maybe, just maybe, she was no longer just a concubine caught in a scheme...

But a thread tightening in the knot of something far greater.

The infirmary was unusually quiet.

Liora stepped through the doors, her steps light, yet her heart drumming a beat louder than it should. A healer named Mira bowed slightly upon seeing her and gestured toward the far corner bed curtained off, secluded.

"He hasn’t spoken to anyone," Mira whispered, voice low. "Just keeps asking for you."

Liora walked toward the curtain, fingers brushing it aside.

There, propped on a pillow, was a young man with a healing gash across his temple. His skin was still pale, but his eyes, sharp and intelligent, locked onto her the moment she entered. Recognition flashed across his face.

"You’re the one who found me," he said hoarsely.

"Yes," Liora replied softly, taking the chair beside him. "I was passing the stables when they carried you in."

"I remember... your voice." He looked around cautiously, then lowered his voice. "I wasn’t attacked by accident. I heard something I shouldn’t have someone speaking in Norwain’s tongue."

Liora leaned closer. "What did you hear?"

"There was a map," he whispered, "and three men. I couldn’t see their faces. But they were talking about routes, old supply roads, ones even our soldiers don’t use anymore. And one of them... he mentioned the name Petra."

Liora stiffened.

That name again.

"They saw me listening," the boy added, "and someone hit me from behind."

Liora bit her lip, her mind already racing. If Norwain had spies planted deep enough to be plotting routes in Lucien’s territory, it meant this wasn’t just about politics anymore; it was war in slow motion.

"I need you to rest," she said. "But I’ll take this to the prince."

"No," the boy rasped, grabbing her wrist. "Take it to Lord Rowan. The prince... he’s watched. If you go straight to him, they’ll know."

Liora’s breath caught. Watched?

"Who is watching him?"

But the boy fell back onto the bed, eyes fluttering shut. He’d said too much. Or perhaps, he feared what would happen if he said more.

Liora stood, her hand still cold where he’d gripped it. She stepped out of the curtain just as Mira returned.

"He’ll need more rest," the healer murmured. "He’s burning with fever again."

Liora nodded, mind already shifting. She would go to Rowan...but carefully.

And perhaps...

She would need to question a few servants of her own.

Meanwhile, in Lucien’s chambers, the prince stared at the chessboard alone. The map lay beside it, the old Petra border drawn faintly in ink.

His fingers traced the line again.

He didn’t know why, but something felt off.

And for the first time, he wondered...

What if the battle wasn’t going to begin at the court?

But here...

In the estate, right under his own roof.

The evening draped Lucien’s estate in shadow, flickering candlelight dancing along the stone walls of the war room. Rowan entered quietly, finding Lucien seated alone, a wine goblet untouched before him and the map still spread open.

"You’ve been staring at that line for hours," Rowan muttered, glancing at the inked trail marked Petra Route.

Lucien didn’t look up. "It’s not the line that bothers me. It’s what’s moving around it."

Rowan walked over and folded his arms. "The envoy you sent to the border returned. He says the Petra roads haven’t been touched in years. And yet..."

"And yet someone in this house knew to mention them days before the envoy left," Lucien finished, his jaw tight.

He tapped his fingers on the map, thoughtful. "Too many things are happening in silence."

There was a knock. Rowan moved to open the door, surprised to see Liora there, cloak still dusted from outside. Her hair was slightly out of place, her breath quick, as if she had rushed.

Lucien’s eyes lifted, surprised.

"Liora?" he said, and something subtle shifted in his tone.

"I need to speak to you," she said. "Alone."

Lucien blinked, then glanced at Rowan. With a nod, Rowan stepped out, though his steps lingered just a little too long.

As soon as the door shut, Liora walked forward. "There’s something wrong. One of the patients you rescued the stable boy who was attacked, overheard something. About Norwain... and Petra. Secret routes. And he said, Someone is watching you."

Lucien stood slowly, his face sharpening. "He told you this?"

"He did. And then passed out again. But it confirms your suspicion."

Lucien didn’t speak for a moment. He walked to the window and stared out into the darkness beyond the estate walls.

"And you came here knowing it would put you in danger?" he asked finally, turning to her.

"I came because I owe my life to truth," Liora said, then paused, "and maybe a little... to you."

Lucien blinked. The words caught him off guard so subtle, yet enough to quiet the tension in the room.

He approached slowly, his voice quieter. "You’re the only one in this estate who dares speak to me like this."

"I don’t dare. I choose to," she replied.

A silence fell between them thick, complicated.

He reached for her hand but didn’t hold it, just let his fingers graze hers.

"If something happens... if this house falls into shadows," Lucien said, "I want you to remember one thing."

"What?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.

"That I never once saw you as the girl they sent," he murmured. "Only as the one I should’ve gone looking for."

Liora swallowed hard, blinking rapidly.

But before either could say more, the door burst open.

Samuel stood breathless, holding a parchment in his hand. "You need to see this," he said.

Lucien took the letter. His eyes skimmed it, and then narrowed sharply.

"What is it?" Liora asked.

Lucien looked up.

"There’s been a murder," he said coldly. "At the Petra outpost."

And just like that, everything they feared began to unfold.

Lucien read the letter again, slower this time. Each word scratched into the parchment seemed to dig deeper into his thoughts.

Samuel waited beside him, nervous. "It was delivered by one of the border guards. The man who brought it barely made it here alive...he collapsed at the gates."

Lucien looked up, his jaw tense. "A commander stationed at Petra was killed. Throat slit. No signs of forced entry. His personal documents burned. But..."

"But?" Liora stepped closer.

Lucien handed the letter to her. "But a note was left behind. No signature. Only this message: ’When the prince forgets the price of silence, the border bleeds.’"

Liora’s breath caught. "They’re watching you."

Samuel nodded grimly. "And warning you."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. "Or daring me to act."

He turned away, pacing for a moment before stabbing a finger at the map again, at a small dot by the Petra pass. "This isn’t random. Petra was isolated but not unimportant. They’re testing how quickly I react... how far I’m willing to go."

"Then what do we do?" Liora asked, holding the parchment tight.

Lucien paused, eyes flicking toward her, not just with calculation now, but something softer beneath. He walked toward her slowly.

"You, nothing. Stay here."

She frowned. "You expect me to do that while people are dying?"

"I expect you to stay alive."