Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 12

**Whispers Shape Distant Tomorrows by Aren Cole Vale**

**Chapter 12**

Avery stared at the pile of 55 vouchers, each one a testament to the remedies he had once believed were his rightful gain. The air between him and Margaery crackled with tension, thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Aven, even if I were to possess it, I wouldn’t part with it,” Margaery stated, her eyes narrowing as she regarded him with a cool, unwavering gaze. There was a finality in her tone that sent a shiver of unease down Avery’s spine. “And those remedies you pilfered from me? I acquired them through deception, all to win your favor.”

Avery felt the weight of her words settle heavily upon him, an ominous chill creeping into his heart. “I’ve mended my ways now—I’m done with thievery,” he replied, hoping to quell the storm brewing between them.

“What are you playing at, Margaery?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the dread of her newfound virtue looming over him like a dark cloud.

Margaery’s gaze remained locked onto his, her resolve unyielding. “I’m telling you, dear brother, that I want every remedy you took returned to me. Tomorrow, I will see them restored to their rightful owners.”

Her voice softened slightly, almost as if she were trying to reach out to him. “After all, an apology isn’t just owed to Tessa—it’s owed to everyone I’ve wronged. That’s the only way to demonstrate that my heart has truly changed. Don’t you agree, brother?”

Avery’s jaw clenched tightly, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. “Margaery, are you even thinking straight? Tessa’s life hangs by a thread—she needs help right now! Your apologies can wait. And those remedies? They’re already with the Royal Medical Hall. How am I supposed to fetch them back?”

“That’s not my concern,” Margaery replied, her calm demeanor reminiscent of a still lake, betraying no hint of the storm that raged within him. “I gave you those remedies to gain your assistance, but you never kept your word. It’s only right that you return what is mine. I have amends to make.”

Avery’s temper flared, the heat of his anger rising like a tide. “You’re impossible! If I had known you would turn so cold-hearted, I would never have given you that charcoal!” He gestured angrily towards the glowing brazier, his voice sharp and filled with indignation. “I won’t return the remedies. If you want to keep that fire burning, you’ll hand over the cure for Tessa’s ailment and brew her medicine now.”

Margaery observed him falter, a faint, chilling smile playing on her lips. She glanced at the brazier, her voice turning as icy as winter’s breath. “So, your care comes with a price, does it? Those remedies I gave you were worth a king’s ransom, brother. This pitiful pile of charcoal doesn’t even begin to measure up.”

“You’re haggling with me?” Avery exclaimed, disbelief flooding his features. “Margaery, this isn’t the sister I grew up with.”

“And what sister did you know?” she shot back, her smile now a sharp blade that cut through the air between them.

Avery hesitated, his words caught in his throat. The Margaery he remembered would have rushed to him with every new remedy, her eyes sparkling with hope as she pressed them eagerly into his hands. A single “Good work” from him would light up her face, never once expecting gratitude in return.

For two long years, he had collected nearly twenty of her precious remedies. With them, he had built a shining reputation, forged alliances, and secured his position within the Royal Medical Hall. If everything went according to plan, when Nolan Fischer stepped down, Avery would rise to take his place.

55 vouchers.

He would become the youngest head of the Royal Medical Hall in the history of the Eastvale Empire, perhaps even earning the title of the King’s Royal Healer.

His ascent had been smooth, wrapped in praise and ambition. He had thought her remedies were his by right. Didn’t she say so? “I am her brother, and giving them is only natural,” he mused, resentment bubbling just beneath the surface. “Why is she holding back now? It’s because of Tessa, isn’t it? Margaery’s always been petty, all sweet apologies but never sincere, still stewing over Tessa.”

The thought stung, and he fixed Margaery with a piercing look. “Are you still sore at Tessa? Is that why you’re keeping the remedy for her chills all to yourself?”

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