Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 13

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

Dominic felt the sharp sting of his own words echoing back at him, the heat of shame rising to his cheeks like a fire igniting a dry brush. He could hardly bear to stay another moment, so he let out a cold, dismissive huff and stormed toward the door, hurling one last cutting remark over his shoulder. “I will never, ever come back to you.”

Avery lingered in the room, his brow knitted in concern. “Why provoke him like that? You’ll need the Hadley family’s favor if you wish to secure your future.” He felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on him, a burden he wished he could share with his sister.

“My future is my own, brother,” Margaery replied, her voice icy and resolute. “Tend to Tessa. You said she’s in agony.” Her words were sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

Avery’s jaw tightened, caught in a struggle between his sense of duty and the frustration boiling within him. After a hesitant pause, he muttered, “Fine. Rest well.” He turned, ready to leave, but Margaery’s voice halted him.

“One thing,” she said, her tone steady and unyielding. “Return my recipe. I need it to make amends.”

Avery froze in the courtyard, spinning back toward her, his face darkening with anger. The flickering lantern light cast shadows that danced around him, mirroring his turbulent emotions.

But Margaery pressed on, her voice unwavering. “This confinement has taught me Father’s wisdom. I will walk an honest path—no more deceit.” She bowed low, her sincerity evident. “Will you not aid me?”

Avery stared at her, fists clenched tightly at his sides, his temper simmering just beneath the surface. Margaery held her bow, defiant and unyielding, as if silently challenging him to respond.

“Those recipes are with the Royal Medical Hall,” he snapped, frustration spilling over. “They’re gone.” He turned once more, desperate to escape the conversation.

“Then don’t fault me when I seek them myself,” Margaery called after him, her voice ringing with clarity and determination. “The Royal Medical Hall serves the crown, and the crown is just. They would not keep a commoner’s work without due credit.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” Avery whirled back, his eyes wide with disbelief, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

Margaery met his gaze, unflinching, each word measured and deliberate. “No one should gild their name with stolen goods. I am heeding Father’s counsel—righting my wrongs, returning what is not mine, and offering amends. Shouldn’t you commend me for it?”

Avery’s fists tightened further, a flush of shame creeping up his neck as her words struck a chord deep within him.

Words failed him, and at last, he growled, “Margaery, if I ever defend you again, I’ll carve my name backward in the dust!”

With that, he stormed off, his boots crunching heavily against the snow, expecting her to chase after him as she had always done, to soothe his pride with apologies and gentle reassurances.

Instead, Margaery took a step forward, closed the door with a soft yet resolute thud, and slid the bolt firmly into place.

Avery froze, staring at the sealed door in stunned silence. ‘She didn’t follow?’

Always before, when he had turned his back, Margaery would hurry after him, pleading until his anger softened and melted away.

But now, she had shut him out without a backward glance, leaving him feeling more isolated than ever.

Fury surged in his chest, a tempest of emotions battling within him.

Inside, Margaery doused the lamp and retreated to her bed, the windows falling dark and silent around her.

“Tell me she’s not bewitched,” Avery muttered to Dominic, his face pale with concern.

Dominic, still stinging from the argument, shook his head. “She’s a mystery. But what now? Without those recipes, Tessa’s pain won’t ease. We can’t… steal, can we?” His voice was laced with uncertainty, the weight of their choices pressing down on him.

They stood in the snow, contemplating their next move, the cold biting at their skin. Finally, Avery relented, a flicker of determination igniting within him. “We know the apothecary’s place. Shall we try?”

Dominic nodded, his resolve strengthening. “So be it.”

They set off for the city’s western alley, their footsteps hushed by the thick blanket of cold night air.

Margaery, hearing their footsteps fade into the distance, let out a cold chuckle.

She had witnessed Craig’s skill firsthand—how he had toppled a dozen fighters with a single deft move, leaving them stunned and bewildered.

Those two? They were doomed. With a smirk playing on her lips, she rolled over and succumbed to sleep, the weight of the world slipping away for the moment.

Under the cover of night, Dominic and Avery crept toward Craig’s courtyard, leaving their carriage at the mouth of the alley.

The house loomed dark and silent, devoid of any light that might hint at life within. They whispered to each other as they approached.

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