Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 165

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

**Chapter 165**

“As long as you’re happy,” Warren remarked, his voice light, yet a sly grin played on his lips, concealing the disdain bubbling beneath the surface.

His gaze flicked to Joshua, sharp and probing. “Lord Joshua, where is the Lady of Glowsend? It would be prudent to summon her.”

Joshua’s face darkened, a storm brewing in his chest. How could he possibly reveal that Margaery was intent on breaking away from the Wallen family, planning to leave as soon as she returned later that evening? The thought of it twisted in his gut like a thorn.

Yet, if he chose to remain silent, the Wallen family would be unable to present her.

With a heavy heart, he settled for a half-truth, “She stepped out, but her destination is unknown. Perhaps, Chamberlain Warren, you might consider leaving the imperial edict here and wait for her return…”

Warren, however, was unyielding. “That won’t suffice. By the King’s direct command, the imperial edict must be presented to Lady of Glowsend in person.”

He dismissed Joshua with a wave, turning on his heel to leave.

Joshua felt a bitter pang of despair. What did Warren mean by that cryptic remark? What was he expected to anticipate?

Before he could unravel the implications, Tessa’s voice broke through the haze of his thoughts.

“The King has actually arranged for Margaery to marry Prince Nathaniel,” she said, her tone heavy with disbelief.

Tessa emerged from the shadows, clutching his sleeve tightly, her body trembling with a mix of fear and anger. “From this moment on, Margaery will be the Crown Princess. With her deep-seated resentment towards our family, who knows what schemes she might concoct against us…”

Jealousy coursed through her veins, a seething tempest that threatened to engulf her reason.

Her ambition had been clear: to dismantle Margaery piece by piece, to see her crushed beneath Tessa’s heel while basking in the affection of her father and brother, the center of their universe.

In her mind, Dominic, Margaery’s fiancé, was meant to be hopelessly infatuated with Tessa, casting Margaery aside like an unwanted trinket.

Yet, as fate would have it, Tessa found herself the one scorned, her reputation in tatters, while Margaery, despite losing her innocence and the protection of the Chancellor’s estate, emerged as the illustrious Crown Princess.

How could the heavens be so cruelly unjust?

In what way was Tessa lesser than Margaery?

Voices clamored in her mind, a cacophony of anguish and frustration.

But no one could hear them.

All that remained was Joshua’s melancholic sigh, a sound that echoed in the silence.

“She is the Star of Fortune. Those mere words are enough for the King to go to great lengths to shield her. If anything were to befall her, the realm would turn against the King, believing him unworthy, and chaos would soon follow.”

Tessa’s fury ignited, a wildfire threatening to consume her.

Why was Margaery’s fate blessed, born under the auspicious Star of Fortune?

“Born the same year, the same month, the same day as I, yet I am left to wallow in the muck, never to rise again?” she thought bitterly.

Unbeknownst to Tessa, the title of Star of Fortune was merely a temporary shield wielded by Dashnell and Simon to protect Margaery.

Now, that very shield had morphed into a double-edged sword, one that not only threatened the Wallen family but also ensnared Margaery and Dashnell in a perilous struggle.

Fate had already set its price for everything. The title saved Margaery, allowing her to escape the Chancellor’s estate and the chains of her past, yet it also drew her into a new vortex—the fierce battle for succession.

From that moment onward, her destiny became intertwined with that of the Eastvale Empire, with all its princes and princesses, and the King’s fate, leaving her with no power to choose her path.

**Chapter 165**

******

Margaery had just closed her eyes when she slipped into a disorienting nightmare.

In this haunting vision, she found herself teetering on the edge of a precipice, her limbs absent, desperately straining to catch a glimpse of Dashnell.

He reached out, his hands grasping for her, but could not hold onto anything but her hair.

But even that was too much; her scalp tore painfully away.

She plummeted into the frigid depths below, and above her, Dashnell’s anguished cry echoed, “Margaery!”

In an instant, he leapt after her.

“No!” she shook her head in frantic denial.

Yet, with no voice to call out, her protest morphed into a soundless wail, and she sank deeper into the icy abyss.

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