Sold to My Killer Husband: His Concubine's Dilemma
Chapter 168: Lucien caught her

Chapter 168: Lucien caught her

The fire crackled in the west wing’s study, finally lit. Outside, the sun had sunk behind clouds, casting gray shadows across the estate. Inside, Lucien poured two small glasses of wine...not as an offering, but as a test.

He handed one to Liora without a word.

She stared at it. Then at him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to drink it?"

"...Should I?"

Lucien leaned against the edge of the desk, his gaze amused...but tired underneath. "If you ever have to ask that question at court, it’s already too late."

Liora’s fingers tightened around the cup.

He held his glass to his lips but didn’t drink. "You know what the most common poison in the capital is?"

She said nothing.

"It doesn’t kill you. Not right away. Just mimics fever. Vomiting. Some convulsions. And then...silence. Convenient for families like yours."

Her grip slackened, and she slowly set the cup down.

Lucien gave the faintest nod of approval. "Good."

Liora exhaled. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you’re not going to survive this world as you are now," he said, straightening. "If they sent you here to be buried, you’ll need to learn to claw your way out. And I don’t intend to drag you with me unless you can walk on your own."

His words were harsh. But his voice...his voice carried something else.

Something like belief.

Liora crossed her arms. "You think I’m weak."

"No," he said simply. "I think you’re unfinished.

Later That Night

Scarlet had been assigned a small room close to Liora’s quarters. She was still rattled, her chatter reduced to nervous fidgeting as she folded and refolded Liora’s shawls.

"I thought he was going to have me thrown out," she whispered.

Liora sat near the window, watching the storm gather in the distance. "He doesn’t throw people out. He corners them."

Scarlet blinked. "What?"

"Never mind."

She turned back to the window. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the gravel path that led to the gates. For a moment...just a flicker... Liora thought she saw a figure.

Hunched. Hooded. Waiting.

She blinked. Gone.

She stood quickly. "Scarlet. Lock the windows. And don’t open the door unless it’s me."

Scarlet looked alarmed. "What is it?"

"I’m not sure," Liora said softly, "but I don’t think we’re alone tonight."

Meanwhile...

Far beyond the estate walls, a sealed letter changed hands under torchlight.

A royal wax stamp cracked.

Inside, one sentence.

"The girl lives...and she has begun to remember."

A pale hand crushed the paper, and from the shadows, a woman’s voice hissed:

"Then it’s time we finish what we started."

The storm struck hard.

Rain slammed against the estate windows, thunder shaking the shutters like a warning. Liora paced near her chamber’s door, the chill in her spine far colder than the air outside. Scarlet had locked the windows, as asked, but her wide eyes followed every creak of the floorboards like a ghost was coming for them both.

"I’ll check the hallway," Liora whispered.

Scarlet lunged to stop her. "My lady, please don’t...what if it’s one of them?"

"That’s exactly why I need to look."

Before Scarlet could argue further, Liora slipped out the door and into the dimly lit hall. The sconces along the walls flickered with weak flames, casting long, jittery shadows. Her bare feet padded quietly across the stone, heart beating louder than her footsteps.

She reached the west-facing window.

There...again.

A flash of movement near the old stables.

This time, she was sure.

Someone was out there. and then...

A crash. Wood splintering. A grunt. Steel.

Liora didn’t think. She ran.

Down the hallway. Around the curve of the east wing. Her skirt tangled at her feet but she didn’t stop. She pushed open the door leading into the courtyard and rain hit her like a slap.

Her hair soaked instantly, and her breath caught from the cold. She scanned....

A figure stumbled out of the stable shadows, dragging something or someone across the mud.

And then, through the storm, a voice cut through.

"Stop."

Lucien.

He stepped into view like the thunder had summoned him. No cloak, no protection from the rain. Just his sword, already unsheathed, glinting with lightning.

The hooded figure froze.

"Drop it," Lucien ordered.

The figure didn’t obey. Instead, they hurled the object,a rolled satchel, toward Lucien’s feet and bolted in the opposite direction.

Lucien moved like lightning itself.

He didn’t kill the intruder. Not yet.

He caught the edge of the figure’s coat with one hand and slammed them back into the stone wall with the flat of his blade pressed against their neck.

The hood fell.

A face appeared.

Not a soldier. Not an assassin.

A young woman.

Liora’s breath caught. "That’s..."

Lucien’s jaw clenched. "Talia."

Liora’s eyes widened. "You know her?"

Lucien didn’t take his eyes off the girl. "She used to work for my mother."

Talia’s lips were split, her voice hoarse. "I didn’t come to hurt anyone. I came to warn you."

Lucien’s blade didn’t move. "That trick again?"

But she shook her head, trembling. "They know. About the papers. The west wing. And about her." Her eyes flicked to Liora. "They’re sending someone else. Someone worse."

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. "Who?"

Talia whispered... "The Shadow Bell."

Liora felt her blood freeze.

Even Lucien paused. Just for a second.

Then he released Talia roughly and turned to Liora.

"Get inside. Lock the doors. Don’t let anyone in."

"But..."

"Now, Liora."

Liora hesitated only a heartbeat before running back toward the estate, heart thundering as if it already sensed what was coming.

Liora slammed the heavy door shut behind her, bolts sliding into place with a jarring clunk. Rain still echoed through the stone halls like distant hoofbeats, her gown dripping a trail of water as she stumbled forward.

Scarlet ran from the side hall. "What happened? I heard shouting...."

"There was someone outside," Liora said breathlessly. "Lucien caught her. He knew her. Her name is Talia...she worked for his mother. And she said, Someone’s coming."

Scarlet went pale. "Coming here?"

"Yes." Liora’s eyes scanned the foyer until they landed on the satchel...drenched and filthy, where Lucien had dropped it before going after the intruder.

She moved to it instinctively.

"Wait," Scarlet said, panicking. "What if it’s dangerous?"

Liora crouched anyway. "It’s already dangerous."

She undid the straps. The smell of damp parchment filled the air.

Inside, wrapped in a soaked cloth, were three things:

1. A leather-bound journal.

2. A small, black vial with no label.

3. A ring...royal, unmistakably so. The family crest was half-burned but still visible: the House of Valcour

Liora’s hands trembled.

"That’s... the Queen Dowager’s family," she murmured.

Scarlet leaned closer. "But why would someone bring this to us?"

Liora picked up the journal. Pages curled with water damage, but the writing was there....dozens of entries. Names. Accounts. Conversations.

She flipped to the most recent one.

"If I die before reaching him, the girl must know. The Queen Dowager ordered the death of Lord Miral. I overheard it. I fled the night the prince was disgraced. I thought I’d be safe. I was wrong."

"They have spies in every wing. One already watches her from the garden."

Liora dropped the journal like it burned.

She looked at Scarlet. "Someone’s watching me."

Scarlet gasped. "What do we do?"

Before Liora could answer...

The door behind them creaked open.

Lucien entered, soaked to the bone, expression grim.

"She wasn’t lying," he said.

Liora rose to her feet, face pale. "You heard what she said?"

Lucien nodded. "She gave me a name. And that ring."

He spotted it still in Liora’s hand. For the first time in hours, his expression shifted...tightening, recognizing something ancient and painful.

"That belonged to my mother," he said slowly. "It was taken from her body after she died."

Liora stiffened. "So how did Talia have it?"

Lucien’s jaw worked. "Because someone wanted it returned now. To remind me what they took. And what they’re willing to take again."

He walked forward, took the journal from the floor, and flipped through a few pages, absorbing the scrawl.

Then: "We leave tomorrow."

"What?" Liora blinked. "Where?"

"To the Winter Archives," he said. "If these entries are true, the rest of the story is hidden there. In the old royal ledgers. And I need proof to bring back to court. Proof strong enough to force Kael to answer."

Liora’s throat dried. "You’re going back to the palace?"

Lucien’s voice was low and sharp. "I’m not crawling back. I’m dragging them into the light."

He met her eyes.

"And I’ll need you beside me, Liora. Whether you’re ready or not."

They were supposed to leave at first light.

Lucien had given the orders...discreet preparations, no visible carriages, only two horses. He wanted to slip out of the estate like a shadow. No formal escorts. No banners. Just him, Liora, and the truth packed in a satchel.

But the estate had other plans.

At the hour just before dawn, when the sky is neither night nor morning. The estate erupted in chaos.

It started with the scent of smoke.

Then came the shouts.

And then the flames.

Scarlet burst into Liora’s room, barefoot, coughing, and with her hair undone. "The stables...on fire! They’re trying to trap us!"