His Forbidden Debt

Chapter Nine — Whispers of Truth

Lilith’s POV

The maid hovered by the door, fingers twisting into the fabric of her apron, her eyes darting between Camren and me like she wasn’t sure if she should run or speak.

Camren’s voice was firm but gentle. “What is it? What do you know about Lady Isadora?”

The girl stepped inside, closing the door behind her like she feared the walls might have ears. “I—I wasn’t going to say anything,” she began in a whisper. “But after what happened to her…” she glanced at me, shame tightening her features, “I couldn’t stay quiet anymore.”

My chest tightened. I gripped the edge of the thin blanket, bracing myself.

“I wasn’t even supposed to be near that side of the house,” she continued. “It was past midnight. I couldn’t sleep, so I went to the kitchen for a glass of water. I didn’t mean to snoop.”

Camren stepped closer. “What did you see?”

“I saw Lady Isadora,” the maid said, voice barely above a whisper. “She was coming out of Lord Tristan’s study. She was holding some folders—black ones. Confidential.

I recognized them because I’d seen the guards carrying them before into the study. I thought it was strange… she looked around before leaving, like she didn’t want anyone to see.”

My eyes widened. My heart slammed against my ribs.

“I thought it wasn't a big deal so I didn't raise an alarm”. Camren and I exchanged glances.

The maid continued, wringing her hands. “The next morning, they said the documents were found in your quarters.” Her gaze met mine. “That’s when I realized… she must have taken them. And planted them.”

Camren let out a slow, steady breath. “You’re certain it was Tristan’s study? Not one of the others?”

“I’m certain,” she said. “The double doors with the golden handles—i've been working here all my life so I can tell which is which, even in the darkness. I saw her come out of there myself.”

“What's your name?” Camren asked.

“My name is Janet, milord”. She said.

“We should go and tell Lord Tristan”. I could see that Janet really wanted to help.

But Camren shut down that idea. He didn’t rush to Tristan like I thought he was going to, I wasn't even going to ask him to.

What was the need? What has happened has happened!

But Camren’s silence didn't mean he has given up he was thinking of how to get Tristan to believe him—The truth was too fragile, too easily twisted. Tristan wouldn’t just hear us out—he’d see a desperate girl clinging to lies, a loyal friend playing knight, and a scared maid trying to stay out of trouble.

No, we needed more than words.

We needed proof.

“We wait,” Camren said finally after Janet left. “And we watch her. She’ll slip again.”

“She always does,” I whispered.

That night, Janet brought me a clean cloth and a bowl of warm water. Her touch was light as she dabbed at the lashes on my back. I flinched, but she paused patiently each time, her eyes wide with worry.

“I never should’ve stayed quiet,” she murmured. “I knew something was wrong, its all my fault for dismissing it as nothing.”

“it's not your fault, Janet. You didn’t know what she’d do,” I said softly. “None of us did.”

Camren stayed by the doorway, arms crossed, watching the room like a guard dog. He’d taken on that role since the night of the whipping—never hovering, never demanding, just always… present.

Each day, they both came.

Janet brought tea, ointments, soft bread.

Camren brought silence and protection. It was strange, finding comfort in people who had once been strangers, in this place where everything had been stripped from me.

The wounds on my back weren’t healing fast, and I could barely sit up. But they helped me inch forward. Gently. Quietly. Like the beginning of something new.

Janet was like a sister I never had, always feeling sorry for me. Always caring.

---

Tristan’s POV

The numbers on the page blurred.

I read the same line three times—no, five—and it still didn’t make sense. My pen hovered over a report, unmoving. The estate’s affairs needed my attention. The new shipment, the security rotation, the bribed judge and the police department I needed to keep happy. All of it demanded focus.

But my thoughts weren’t in the ledger. They were focused on the events that happened today.

My thoughts were on her.

Lilith.

I leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling like it might hold the answer. But all I saw was the memory of her—slumped, trembling, blood trailing down her back.

She didn’t even scream.

Why hadn’t she?

Was it defiance? Or something worse?

Camren’s words wouldn’t stop circling like vultures: She just took it. Like someone used to being blamed for things she didn’t do.

Did she really not steal the documents? But they were found with her? I sighed in annoyances.

I slammed the ledger shut and stood.

The study door groaned open as I stepped into the hallway, walking with purpose—though I refused to admit where I was going. Not even to myself.

But each step was too deliberate.

Each turn down the corridor—too familiar.

I passed the east wing. The servants’ hall.

My boots slowed as I reached the last hallway. And there it was.

Her door.

I froze.

The air felt colder here. Or maybe that was just guilt pressing against my skin.

I raised a hand, fingers hovering just inches from the wood. I didn’t knock. Didn’t breathe.

I could hear something inside—a soft voice. Not hers. Another maid? Then Camren. Of course.

He was always there now.

I told myself that was good. She needed someone. Someone gentler. Someone less… me.

But still, I stood there.

I wanted to see her. Not to explain. I didn’t have the right. She didnt even deserve my explanation. Just to look at her. To know if she still looked at me with the same eyes—those quiet, shattered eyes that haunted me when I closed mine.

But I didn’t knock.

I let my hand fall.

And turned away.

Whatever I had to say… she wouldn’t want to hear it. Not from me.

Not yet.