All Chapters of Betrothed To Six Lovers: Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Lila’s P.O.VThe morning Nico left did not feel like a farewell.There were no long embraces, no dramatic promises whispered between breaths, no tears clinging stubbornly to the edges of our eyes.Just a quiet understanding.A look that said "This is necessary."A silence that meant *we both know the risk.*I watched him go from the far end of the courtyard, standing behind the tall pillars where the guards would not notice me watching too closely. His figure moved with purpose, cloaked in something simple, something forgettable. That was the point.To disappear.To become no one.To walk into danger like it was just another street.And yet—To me, he was not forgettable.He was the only one walking toward the truth while I remained behind, wrapped in walls that were beginning to feel less like protection… and more like confinement.I exhaled slowly, turning away before anyone could question my presence.There was no time to linger on emotions.Not now.Not when everything around me w

Lila’s P.O.V.Morning came too gently for a night that had unsettled me so deeply.The light slipped through the curtains like nothing had happened—as though the palace had not whispered, had not shifted, had not revealed something it was never meant to show.But I knew better.I hadn’t imagined it.I sat at the edge of the bed, already dressed, already awake long before the sun had risen fully into the sky. My fingers were laced together tightly in my lap, my thoughts circling the same moment over and over again.The music.The shadow.The presence.And the way it had felt.Lucian was behind me, still lying in bed.Awake.I could feel it.Even without turning.There was a tension between us now—not loud, not explosive—but stretched thin like something ready to snap if touched the wrong way.“You didn’t sleep.”His voice broke the quiet.Low.Measured.Not accusing.But not soft either.“I didn’t feel like it,” I replied.A pause.Then the rustle of sheets as he sat up slowly.“You’ve

Lila's P.O.VI woke up like I had been dragged out of something that didn’t want to let me go.My chest burned. My breath came out in sharp, uneven bursts, like I had been running without knowing it. For a moment, I couldn’t tell where I was. The darkness in the room felt too thick, too close, like it hadn’t fully released me from whatever I had just seen.The cliff.The missing figure.The voice.And then—That presence behind me.I sat up abruptly, my hand pressing against my chest as if I could steady the frantic rhythm of my heart by force. My eyes darted across the room, trying to make sense of shadows that suddenly felt alive.Nothing moved.Nothing answered.But the feeling lingered.That I wasn’t alone.“Lila?”His voice came from beside me.Low, groggy, real.Lucian.I turned sharply, almost startled by the sound of him, as though I had forgotten he was even there.He was already sitting up, his expression shifting quickly from sleep to concern as he looked at me.“You’re sha

Lila's P.O.VHmm.The sound barely escaped me, but it carried enough weight to fracture whatever fragile warmth had remained in the room.Using my own words against me.The realization struck deeper than I wanted to admit.It wasn’t just betrayal anymore.It was humiliation.A slow, devastating unraveling of truths I had been too trusting—or too desperate—to question.My eyes burned almost instantly, heat gathering behind them until my vision blurred. I hated that. Hated that my body still betrayed me with emotion when what I wanted was fury.Lucian noticed.Of course he did.His expression shifted immediately, something softer flickering there—regret, perhaps—and he moved instinctively, his hand stretching slightly toward me.As though to comfort me.As though he still had that right.But halfway through, he stopped.His fingers curled inward before they could touch me, and his hand dropped back to his side.Because even he knew.He had no place near me now.No place offering tendern

Lila's P.O.VSerena didn’t move at first.That was the first thing I noticed.Not the smile, not the silk-soft composure, not even the carefully arranged concern in her eyes.It was the stillness.A fraction too controlled.A fraction too precise.As though she had expected irritation, suspicion, even hostility—but not recognition.Her hand, still lightly resting on mine, tightened almost imperceptibly.Then she laughed softly.A sound like glass brushing silk.“Lila,” she said gently, tilting her head, “you always assume the worst of me when you’re under pressure.”I didn’t answer immediately.Because my attention had stopped being on her face.It had dropped.To her neck.The pendant.It hung there innocently enough at first glance—delicate chain, subtle shine, resting just above the collar of her gown like an ornament chosen for beauty alone.But I had seen it before.Not here.Not in court.Not in family portraits or royal archives.In the cursed pages.In the torn fragments of th