Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 162

**TITLE: Whispers Shape Distant Tomorrows by Aren Cole Vale**
**Chapter 162**

Adam gave a resolute nod, determination etched on his features. “What do you need me to do? I’ll take care of it. You head to the palace and ensure His Highness is completely safe.”

“Lady Margaery asked me to deliver a message…”

Wayne’s gaze flicked towards the staircase, his mind racing as he assessed the urgency of the situation. He quickly elaborated, “You go deliver that message. I’ll make my way to the palace to check on things. Also, keep an eye on Russell; he’s moved in next door.”

Before ascending the stairs, Wayne had discreetly slipped a bundle of cash—approximately ten thousand dollars in today’s terms—into the hands of the innkeeper. He had instructed the man to look after Margaery with utmost care and to remain vigilant about any unusual activity happening on the upper floor. This ensured Wayne was well aware of who was occupying the rooms above.

With a firm nod, Adam turned and made his way upstairs, the weight of his task settling on his shoulders.

Meanwhile, Wayne set off towards the imperial palace, his mind racing with thoughts of the unfolding events.

**Inside the Imperial Study.**

Nathaniel emerged from the study, a faint smile gracing his lips, yet it was a smile layered with complexity. It seemed to convey joy, but beneath it lay threads of apprehension and tension.

As his gaze fell upon Marcus and Dashnell, that complexity deepened, swirling with uncertainty.

“Nathaniel, you’re out! What did Father say to you?” Callum interjected, stepping forward with a sense of urgency that mirrored his curiosity.

“You’ll find out when you go in, Callum,” Nathaniel replied cryptically, his eyes darting momentarily to Dashnell, as if he yearned to share more but was held back by an invisible barrier.

Finally, he ventured, “I wonder, when we leave the Imperial Study later, will I be able to share a drink with you, Dashnell?”

Dashnell scrutinized Nathaniel’s expression, his brow furrowing in thought. “You may,” he replied, though unease flickered in his chest.

What could possibly be causing Nathaniel’s unusual happiness? Dashnell pondered, a sense of foreboding creeping into his heart as he cast his gaze toward the ominous, black doors of the Imperial Study.

Just then, the chief eunuch appeared, his demeanor formal as he addressed Callum. “Your Highness, the King requests your presence inside.”

Callum exchanged glances with Nathaniel, Marcus, and Dashnell before turning and entering the room, a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.

**Chapter 162**

“It seems we will have to wait a while longer,” Marcus remarked, his voice laced with unease as he instinctively glanced at Dashnell. The bitter cold seeped through his sable cloak, leaving him feeling chilled to the very marrow of his bones.

Dashnell, however, paid him no mind, lost in his own thoughts.

Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed behind them.

Turning his head, Dashnell spotted Raul stumbling towards them, his expression a mix of urgency and apprehension.

As Raul met Dashnell’s gaze, he froze mid-step. “Your servant greets Lady Alicia, Prince Marcus, and Prince Dashnell,” he stammered, the formality of his greeting barely masking his discomfort.

He hadn’t anticipated that even now, Marcus and the Prince were still left waiting outside. How much longer would this torment continue?

Even someone as oblivious as Raul could sense the King’s simmering anger.

To summon them and then leave them standing in the cold was nothing short of a blatant punishment.

Raul’s thoughts drifted to Margaery, and a tremor ran through him, as though he had been struck by a revelation.

Oh, that was right. Tonight, she had forsaken the Chancellor’s estate and ventured out alone.

Yet his relationship with the King was not akin to the bond between Margaery and himself.

He had no choice but to remain loyal to the King.

Kneeling outside the Imperial Study, Raul clenched his fists tightly, the tension radiating from his body.

He yearned to inquire how long those ahead had been waiting and what the King’s mood was, but the three figures before him felt like adversaries. Not a single one of them was willing to offer him even the simplest of answers.

Alicia’s gaze was sharp, laced with venomous disdain.

Marcus didn’t even spare him a glance, as if they were strangers, erasing years of camaraderie in an instant.

Dashnell’s eyes were filled with contempt, making it abundantly clear that he held Raul in low regard.

Having served as Chancellor for so many years, Raul had always stood just below the King, revered and respected. Yet now, he felt as if he had plummeted to the depths of disgrace. It seemed that everyone had turned their backs on him…

He had believed that his indirect involvement would keep him safe from scrutiny.

But now, the King had laid bare his secrets.

He felt a surge of panic as he realized he had no idea how much the King truly knew about the situation. Gritting his teeth, he denied it, “Father, it appears that the beggar was brought in by Lady Tessa of the Wallen family. It has nothing to do with me.”

The King’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “How do you know it was Lady Tessa of the Wallen family who brought him in?”

Callum momentarily faltered, his mind racing for a plausible answer.

Finally, he managed to articulate, “Based on my observations, at the banquet, only Lady Tessa seemed to have a motive. She was indeed the first to slander Lady Margaery of the Wallen family.”

“But,” the King scoffed, “doesn’t the Wallen family desperately want to see Margaery and Marcus succeed?

“Tessa is Raul’s precious darling. Is she foolish or harboring ill intentions, making decisions completely against the interests of the Chancellor’s estate?”

The chill of winter enveloped the room, yet cold sweat trickled down Callum’s back.

He dared not raise his head, bowing so low that his forehead nearly touched the floor.

The King’s gaze lingered on him, the silence stretching into an unbearable tension.

Only when Callum felt he could endure no more did the King finally break the stillness.

“I have discovered that the Springcourt House harbors malicious intent. There is a woman named Sonia Rash, who is a spy sent from Frosthelm. The entire Springcourt House is actually under her control. Take your men and raid the Springcourt House, and bring Sonia to see me.”

“What? How is that possible?”

Callum’s voice rose in disbelief, shock coursing through him as he looked up at the King.

Who had provided this information? How did the King even know Sonia’s name?

“I told you to handle this, so you will handle it. If you fail, you will spend three years in the Northern Frontier to hone yourself.”

The King’s veiled gaze bore into Callum’s face, leaving him feeling as if he were standing on the precipice of a great abyss.