Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 153

**Chapter 153**

(62)

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“Does Prince Dashnell’s estate truly wish to sink along with the Chancellor’s estate?” Raul’s voice cut through the air, sharp and unyielding.

Raul’s gaze bore into Wayne, a fierce determination igniting within his eyes, a glimmer of ruthless resolve that hinted at the stakes involved.

Wayne’s brow furrowed in response, his expression darkening. “You ought to convey such sentiments directly to Prince Dashnell and the King,” he retorted, his tone edged with caution.

“Go ahead, test the waters and see if the King is inclined to let you and his son drown together,” Raul shot back, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

For a fleeting moment, Wayne found himself at a loss for words, yet deep down, he recognized the trap that had ensnared him.

“Step outside and witness the reality for yourself,” Raul challenged, his voice low and menacing.

Wayne’s attention shifted back to Margaery, his gaze as frigid as steel, devoid of warmth or affection.

In truth, any remnants of fondness he once held for Margaery had long since evaporated, leaving behind only a bitter sense of resentment. The anger of feeling cast aside by her lingered within him, a twisted obsession fueled by a desire to reclaim control and eliminate the looming threat she represented.

Margaery, perceptive as ever, sensed the turmoil swirling beneath the surface of Wayne’s demeanor.

She offered a faint smile, one that barely reached her eyes. “Then let’s put it to the test,” she replied, her voice steady.

Even in the absence of Dashnell’s estate, devoid of allies, the path she had chosen remained steadfast. The world was vast, and she was resolute in her belief that she would always find her place within it.

With that, she turned away from Raul, not sparing him another glance, and strode purposefully toward the main gate.

Fueled by rage, Raul barked an order, his voice echoing in the tense atmosphere. “Let it be known: from this moment forth, anyone who dares to provide refuge to Margaery Wallen, anyone who offers her assistance, will be deemed an enemy of the Chancellor’s estate!”

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, reminiscent of echoes from her past.

In her previous life, Margaery hadn’t chosen to leave the Chancellor’s estate willingly. It was only after Dominic severed their engagement that Raul had cast her out, the bitterness of that day etched into her memory.

On the day of her expulsion, Raul had uttered those very same words, a declaration that had condemned her to a life of limbo for the next two and a half years. She had existed in a state of neither life nor death, struggling to find her footing in a world that had turned its back on her.

Even her attempts to work as a servant in others’ homes had been met with rejection; no one dared to take her in, haunted by the shadow of Raul’s decree.

During that time, Craig, having been spurned by her, had wandered off, pursuing adventures far from her reach.

Frosthelm had launched an assault on the Eastvale Empire, and Dashnell had ventured to the front lines, leaving her utterly alone.

Everyone who could have come to her aid had departed, and now, plagued by rheumatism, she found herself mingling with a group of beggars, barely scraping by.

Memories of the past flickered through her mind, only to dissolve into the ether.

(6)

EX

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Margaery inhaled deeply, steadying herself as she grasped Amber’s hand, and resolutely made her way toward the small inn on the outskirts of the city.

Adam had returned.

He spotted her on the road, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. “Lady Margaery, where are you headed?” he inquired, his voice laced with genuine interest.

“To the inn,” Margaery replied, her tone unwavering as she met his gaze. “Have you located my master? Where is he?”

Adam shook his head gently, his brow furrowing in frustration. “No, I haven’t. I asked around, and they mentioned he left early this morning. I waited for a while, but no one came. Worried for your safety, I decided to return,” he explained, his concern evident.

He continued, hoping to reassure her. “But since he left on his own, he must be alright. After all, he possesses remarkable martial skills and is well-versed in poisons.”

He hesitated before shifting the topic. “Lady Margaery, what’s going on?”

“I’ve left the Chancellor’s estate and need to secure a place to stay. First, I’ll head to that inn on the outskirts, and then I plan to visit the pawnshop,” she stated, her voice firm.

Having severed ties with the Chancellor’s estate, Margaery now bore the responsibility of providing for her own needs—food, clothing, and shelter. The urgency of her situation pressed upon her, demanding swift action.

“You could always go to Prince Dashnell’s residence,” Adam suggested, his voice tinged with hope.

At his words, a sigh escaped Adam’s lips. “If you’re hesitant, you could stay at the other residence of the estate. His Highness has purchased a courtyard for you, and it will be prepared soon. The weather outside is frigid, and His Highness is undoubtedly anxious about your well-being,” he urged.

Margaery shook her head, resolute in her decision. “Let’s observe the situation for now. Given the current circumstances, moving directly into Prince Dashnell’s estate, even if it’s just the other residence, would raise suspicions. I don’t want to burden him further.”

Gratitude for Dashnell surged within her, yet she was acutely aware that the situation was far from straightforward.

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