Married To Darkness-Chapter 345: Conceited Concubine

Samion

Always standing like a dark shadow at the end of the corridor, leaning against walls with that infuriating, unreadable expression—his sharp jaw set, arms crossed, eyes the color of storm clouds watching her like she was some puzzle he intended to solve.

Sarah hated it.

Not because she truly disliked him—but because every time he so much as looked her way, her pulse quickened and her mouth dried up.

So she did what any sensible woman would do. She ignored him.

Or at least, she tried to.

"Sarah," Samion’s deep voice echoed down the corridor like a low growl.

She stiffened, quickening her pace.

"Sarah," he repeated, footsteps trailing behind her.

She spun around abruptly. "What?" she snapped—too loudly. A maid passing by shot her a curious glance, and Sarah’s cheeks flamed.

Samion tilted his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I only wanted to ask if you’d help me with something."

Her heart thudded. "Help you?" she repeated, instantly suspicious.

"Yes," he said smoothly, his gaze never wavering. "With... things."

"Things?"

He chuckled softly. "Yes. Things."

Sarah’s hands balled into fists at her sides. "I’m not falling for your stupid tricks, Sir Samion. I’ve heard about you."

Samion’s brow arched, though the amusement in his eyes never faded. "Oh? And what have you heard?"

"That you’re a bad boy," she blurted out before she could stop herself, "and cold and—"

"And what?" He took a step closer.

Sarah stepped back so fast she nearly stumbled. "That you... you’re just not a good person."

Samion chuckled again—low and rough, like a purr. "I’m your princess’s knight, Sarah. I’m practically a saint."

Her cheeks burned hotter. "Yeah, well... you don’t act like one."

"Only around you."

Her head snapped up. "What?"

His smile softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something quieter... warmer. "You’re different when you’re not trying so hard to push me away. You laugh more when you think I’m not looking. I like that version of you."

Sarah’s throat tightened. She wanted to argue—to tell him he was wrong—but the words stuck.

Before she could gather her thoughts, Samion leaned down just a fraction, his voice a whisper. "Let me take you stargazing tonight."

Her heart practically leapt out of her chest. "Stargazing?"

He nodded slowly. "You can pretend you’re still avoiding me. I won’t mind."

Sarah blinked, speechless, her pulse a chaotic rhythm in her ears.

Samion smiled—a small, hopeful curve of his lips—and before she could answer, he stepped back. "Think about it."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving Sarah standing there, flustered and furious... at herself.

Because damn it—she would think about it.

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Elsewhere in the castle...

In a lavish parlor bathed in soft candlelight, tension coiled like a serpent between two women — the king’s concubines.

Audrey, the first concubine, paced the length of the room, her dark crimson gown whispering against the marble floor.

Her usually flawless composure was beginning to crack — though not fully. She refused to cry. Refused to break. Not yet.

Seated gracefully in a velvet chair was Lucille, the king’s second concubine, a woman of quiet elegance and sharp words.

Dressed in a soft lavender gown, she watched Audrey with a blank expression, her fingers lightly trailing over the embroidery on her sleeve — a silent show of disinterest.

"You must come with me," Audrey urged, voice low but firm. "We have to go to the king together."

Lucille didn’t blink. "We?"

"Yes!" Audrey snapped, then quickly composed herself. "Yes. If we both speak to him, he’ll listen. We can convince him to command Alaric to release Jaron."

Lucille’s lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she said nothing. Then, with a small tilt of her head, she replied, "Why should I beg for your son, Audrey?"

Audrey’s jaw tightened. "He’s the king’s son too."

"Indeed," Lucille mused, "but Jaron is your son first. Your burden to bear."

The words struck like a slap.

Audrey’s nostrils flared, but she held her ground. "You think this doesn’t affect you? If Alaric executes him—"

"—it will be because Jaron earned it," Lucille cut her off sharply. "He kidnapped the demon prince’s wife. On the king’s birthday, no less." She shook her head in disgust. "Tell me, Audrey — what sort of fool does that? What sort of mother allows her child to become so... reckless?"

Audrey’s spine went rigid. "My son is not a fool."

"No," Lucille said, her voice like a dagger cloaked in silk. "He’s a criminal."

The silence stretched like a blade between them.

Audrey’s fists trembled at her sides, but her voice remained smooth, albeit laced with venom. "I will not stand here and let you insult my son."

Lucille rose slowly, smoothing out her gown, her gaze cold as winter. "I’m not insulting him, Audrey. I’m stating facts."

Audrey blinked back the sting in her eyes, refusing to let Lucille see her crumble. "Will you come with me or not?"

Lucille scoffed softly. "No. I won’t." She arched a brow, a hint of disdain curling her lips. "I have my own children to think of — children who would never stoop to such despicable acts. I will not walk beside you and be tainted by Jaron’s foolishness."

Audrey’s heart pounded like a drum, but she didn’t falter. She lifted her chin. "Fine."

Lucille gave a small, almost pitying smile. "Good luck, Audrey. You’ll need it."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving Audrey standing alone — proud yet seething.

Her heart ached for her son, but not once did she allow a tear to fall.

He’s the king’s son too, she reminded herself.

And no matter what anyone said — no matter how wicked the world painted Jaron — Audrey would get him back.

Even if she had to beg the king herself.

She went to his chambers but he wasn’t there and she had to turn to the court where she was told he’ll be.

To the grand hall it is.