CHAPTER 170: MORE THAN I EXPECTED

Liora’s heart thundered in her chest, caught between the weight of the scroll in Rowan’s hand and the silent plea in Lucien’s eyes. She could feel Lucien’s tension radiating off him like heat; he didn’t trust Rowan, not even slightly. But something in Rowan’s gaze unsettled her in a different way. He wasn’t bluffing. He knew things, things she had begged the stars to reveal for years.

Her father’s death. The fire. The betrayal. Names.

"Let me go with him," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lucien’s head snapped toward her. "No."

"He has the answers I need," she said, trying to hold his gaze, though her fingers trembled.

"I don’t care," Lucien said sharply, his voice like steel grinding on stone. "You don’t go anywhere with men like him. Especially not alone."

"I’m not a child," she shot back, though her voice cracked.

"You’re not disposable either," he growled.

The two stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken history and pain.

Rowan, still holding the scroll, simply raised a brow. "One night. You have my word, Lucien. No harm will come to her. In fact... she may come to thank me."

Lucien moved faster than either of them could react. In an instant, he closed the distance between himself and Rowan, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the nearest stone pillar. Dust shook from the ceiling. The dagger was pressed to Rowan’s throat.

"If you so much as breathe wrong near her, I will end you," Lucien hissed.

Rowan smiled calmly, not flinching. "Still so emotional. That’s why they sent her to you, isn’t it? To keep you on a leash."

Lucien’s blade pressed deeper, nicking skin.

But before blood could spill, Liora stepped forward. "Stop, please."

Lucien held Rowan a second longer before finally releasing him with a shove. Rowan straightened his cloak with ease, unbothered.

"Midnight," he said simply. "At the cliff chapel."

Then he tossed the scroll toward Liora. She caught it, barely.

"And Lucien?" Rowan added over his shoulder as he walked away, vanishing like a ghost into the shadows.

"You’re not the only one keeping secrets from her."

Lucien didn’t speak for a long while after Rowan disappeared into the fog. The tension in his jaw, the twitch in his hands...everything screamed that he wanted to chase after him, to finish what he started. But instead, he turned slowly to Liora, his eyes hard but not cold.

"Are you really going?" he asked, voice quiet but tight with control.

Liora clutched the scroll in her hand, its wax seal slightly cracked from her grip. "I have to. If he knows anything about my father’s death, about what happened that night—how can I ignore it?"

Lucien stared at her like he wanted to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he ran a hand down his face, as though trying to compose what little calm he had left.

"You don’t trust him," she said softly.

"I don’t trust anyone who wears secrets like perfume," he muttered. "Rowan’s never given without taking twice in return."

Liora lowered her eyes. "Still... I need this, Lucien. Even if it’s a risk."

He stepped closer, his tone gentler now. "Then I’m going with you."

She looked up quickly. "He said to come alone."

"I don’t care," Lucien said. "He knows better than to try and stop me."

Liora swallowed, caught between anxiety and relief. There was something comforting about knowing Lucien would be there even if just in the shadows.

"Fine," she nodded. "But stay hidden. If he senses you watching, he might shut down."

Lucien didn’t like it. Not one bit. But he gave a single nod.

They walked back in silence, the scroll heavy in her hand.

Once inside her chamber, she broke the seal and unfurled it across the table. Her eyes scanned the handwritten script and her breath caught.

It was a list. Names.

Her father’s name was there. Her mother’s too. And beneath them several others. Some she recognized. Some she didn’t.

And then one that made her blood turn to ice.

Hector Miral.

Her uncle.

Lucien leaned in, brow furrowed. "What is it?"

Liora’s fingers tightened around the edge of the scroll. "My uncle’s name... he’s on a list connected to my parents’ deaths."

Lucien’s face darkened.

There, scribbled beside Hector’s name in faint ink, were three words:

"Whispers of payment."

The night wore heavy, thick with secrets and the scent of rain-soaked stone. Liora sat on the edge of her bed, the list still open before her. Her fingers hovered over Hector Miral’s name, as if touching it might summon the truth or burn her.

Lucien stood by the window, one arm resting against the cold stone, watching the fog swirl over the courtyard. His silhouette was tense, all sharp lines and quiet fury.

"When was the last time you saw him?" he asked without turning.

"My uncle?" Liora’s voice was low and bitter. "Before I was sent here. He told me to behave, to not embarrass the family. Then he turned his back like I didn’t exist."

Lucien exhaled harshly. "If he’s tied to your parents’ deaths, he won’t get away with it. Not while I’m alive."

His words weren’t just a promise; they were a vow. And it struck Liora harder than she expected.

"I’m meeting Rowan tonight," she said finally, rising from the bed. "He said just before midnight. At the old chapel ruins."

Lucien turned to her now. "Then we leave soon."

"No," she stopped him gently. "I’ll go alone first. Let him speak. Just... be nearby."

He didn’t like it. Not even slightly. But he didn’t argue this time.

The chapel ruins sat on the edge of the palace grounds, buried in overgrown ivy and crumbling arches. The moonlight poured through the shattered roof like a spotlight on a forgotten stage.

Liora stepped in cautiously, her steps soft against the cracked marble.

Rowan emerged from the shadows, his dark cloak clinging to the mist. He looked... older tonight. Tired.

"You came," he said, almost surprised.

"I need answers," Liora said. "The list...my uncle...what does it mean?"

Rowan sighed and pulled something from inside his coat. A faded letter.

"This was written by your father," he said, handing it over. "I found it in the archives your family tried to destroy."

Liora took it with shaking hands.

"He knew," Rowan continued. "He suspected Hector was working with nobles who wanted your father silenced. Your mother tried to protect him. That’s why they died."

Liora’s eyes burned as she read the letter, her father’s scrawled words filled with fear and desperation.

"They planned it..." she whispered. "He warned someone, but no one listened."

"No," Rowan agreed. "But now someone will."

A twig snapped outside.

Rowan’s head turned sharply. "You said you came alone."

"I did."

But her heart betrayed her...because she knew exactly who that shadow was in the trees.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. "He followed you?"

Liora tucked the letter into her sleeve. "No. He stayed back...only to make sure I was safe."

Rowan stepped toward the broken archway, his voice low. "That man doesn’t trust easily. If he’s here, it means he thinks I’ll betray you."

"Will you?" Liora asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Rowan stopped.

"No," he said, after a long pause. "I owe your father too much."

The silence that followed was cut short by another sound...footsteps this time, deliberate and close.

Lucien emerged from the trees, his cloak dusted in dew and his expression unreadable.

"Enjoying your stroll, Lord Vale?" he asked coldly.

Rowan smirked. "You still walk like a prince. Even in the dark."

Lucien didn’t return the smile. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "I don’t like games."

"And I don’t like people who eavesdrop on conversations that aren’t theirs," Rowan replied.

"Enough," Liora said, stepping between them. "This isn’t about either of you. It’s about the truth."

Lucien’s eyes flicked to her, then to the sleeve where she’d hidden the letter. "Did he give you what you needed?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "More than I expected."

Lucien nodded once. "Then we leave. Now."

Rowan didn’t stop them, but just before they turned, he spoke.

"You’re not the only one hunting ghosts, Blackthorne. Be careful. The ones you chase might start chasing you."

Lucien didn’t flinch. "Let them try."

Back in their chambers, Liora laid the letter flat on the desk. Candles flickered around it, casting trembling shadows over her father’s words.

Lucien leaned over her shoulder, silent. Watching.

"They murdered him," she said finally. "Because he refused to stay quiet."

"And now they’ll come for you," Lucien said. "Unless we strike first."

He moved away then, to the window again, where the moonlight etched silver into the hard line of his jaw.

"We begin tomorrow," he said. "I want every name tied to Hector Miral. Every deal, every ally."

"And if we find nothing?" Liora asked.

Lucien turned to her, his voice colder than winter rain.

"Then we dig up the graves and ask the dead."