Rise of The Abandoned Husband (Liam Knight) novel Chapter 53

Rival

53 Chapter 53 – A Rare Herb and an Entitled Rival

A month. Just one month until the Traditional Medicine Conference. Elder Harding’s words echoed in my mind as I paced the floor of my hotel room.

“I need to be better,” I muttered, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “Much better.”

The conference wasn’t just an opportunity–it was my chance to prove myself worthy of the knowledge that had been gifted to me. More than that, it was a way to show Isabelle that I could stand among the elite. That I could be someone she deserved.

My thoughts drifted to her face, elegant and beautiful, those eyes that seemed to see right through me. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since our last meeting.

A knock at my door jolted me from my reverie.

“Enter, I called out.

Roman Volkov’s massive frame filled the doorway. “Mr. Knight, it’s dawn. The morning market opens soon, as you requested.”

I nodded, grateful for his punctuality. “Thank you, Roman. I’ll be ready in five minutes.

“Sebastian Hawthorne has been making threats about you all over the city,” Roman said, his expression grim. “My sources say he’s been drinking heavily and vowing

revenge.”

I shrugged, pulling on my jacket. “Let him. We have more important matters to attend

to.”

The truth was, Sebastian’s anger was the least of my concerns. With the Traditional Medicine Conference looming, I needed to focus on gathering rare ingredients to practice with. Time was not on my side.

The morning market of Havenwood City was a riot of color and noise. Vendors shouted their wares as early shoppers haggled over prices. The scent of fresh produce mingled with the earthy aroma of herbs and spices.

Roman walked slightly behind me, his presence keeping most people at a respectful

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53 Chapter 53 A Rare Herb and an Entitled Rival

distance. Beside him was Alaric, his most trusted bodyguard, silent and watchful.

“What exactly are we looking for, Mr. Knight?” Roman asked.

“Rare herbs,” I replied, scanning the stalls. “Things that might appear at the conference. I need to familiarize myself with as many as possible.”

For two hours, we moved methodically through the market. I purchased several uncommon herbs, testing myself by identifying them blindfolded as Elder Harding had suggested. But nothing truly rare had appeared.

Then I saw it – a withered root lying almost forgotten at the corner of an old woman’s stall. My heart quickened as I approached.

“Grandmother,” I said respectfully to the elderly vendor, “may I see that root?”

She squinted at me suspiciously before handing if over. The moment it touched my palm, I knew.

“This is Angelica dahurica,” I said quietly, examining its gnarled surface. “And quite old too. Where did you find this?”

The old woman’s eyes widened. “You know your herbs, young man. Found it in the mountains last spring. Been trying to sell it for months, but no one recognized its

value”

Though withered and seemingly unremarkable, this herb was a potent ingredient for treating various ailments and could be crucial in certain traditional medicine formulations.

“How much?” I asked.

“For someone who knows its worth?” The old woman’s leathery face creased into a smile. “Thirty thousand.”

Roman made a choking sound behind me. “Thirty thousand for that dried–up root?”

I ignored his outburst. “It’s worth every coin. I’ll take it.”

As I reached for my wallet, a slender hand darted in front of me and snatched the herb from the vendor’s table.

“I’ll give you forty thousand for it, a female voice déclared.

53 Chapter 53 A Rare Herb and an Entitled Rival

I turned to face a young woman dressed in expensive clothes, her hair styled elaborately and adorned with jeweled pins. She couldn’t have been more than twenty but carried herself with the entitled confidence of someone who had never been denied anything.

“Excuse me,” I said politely, “but I was in the process of purchasing that herb.”

The young woman looked me up and down dismissively. “And now I’m purchasing it. That’s how a market works.” She turned back to the vendor. “Forty thousand. Take it or

leave it.”

The old woman looked uncomfortable, caught between us. “Well, the gentleman was here first…

“Do you know who I am?” the young woman snapped, her voice rising. “My father is Declan Donovan. Does that name mean anything to you, old woman?”

The vendor paled visibly, and even Roman tensed beside me.

“The Declan Donovan?” Alaric whispered to Roman. “The city’s strongest man?”

Roman nodded grimly. “And that’s his daughter, Nora Donovan. Notorious. troublemaker.”

I kept my voice level. “Miss Donovan, I understand your interest in the herb, but I was already completing the purchase. Perhaps we could discuss-”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” she cut me off. “I want it, so it’s mine. That’s how things work in Havenwood City.” She dangled the herb between her fingers. “Unless you think you can take it from me?”

A challenge, plain and simple. I could feel the crowd around us growing, sensing the drama.

“I wouldn’t dream of taking anything from you,” I said softly. Then I flicked my finger subtly, channeling a tiny burst of energy.

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