Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 178

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

**Chapter 178**

Lady Serena’s lips parted, her voice trembling with disbelief. “How could that possibly be? You are their father. Even if they yearn for the throne, they would never dare to harm you.” Her eyes searched his face, hoping to find some reassurance.

The King took a deep draught of the calming water, its coolness a brief respite from the tempest of his thoughts.

Yet, sleep eluded him, a cruel companion that night.

He turned to history, seeking solace in its lessons.

Through the annals of time, princes had clashed in brutal contests for succession; it was not unheard of for a king to meet his demise in the chaos that ensued.

Serena’s words, though meant to comfort, fell flat against the weight of his worries.

He lay back down, extinguishing the light, but the darkness brought no peace.

Serena, too, wrestled with her own restlessness, for the King’s reference to “my sons” weighed heavily on her heart, especially regarding Dashnell.

She could not guarantee the safety of the others, but she was acutely aware of Dashnell’s character.

Finally, she sighed, a sound filled with conviction. “I can’t speak for the rest, but when it comes to Dashnell… I would stake my life that he would never harm his own father.”

The King pondered her words, his thoughts drifting to Dashnell.

After a lengthy silence, he murmured, “He is the one who resembles me the most.”

With that, the room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken fears and unyielding bonds.

*****

That night, Margaery slept soundly, wrapped in the blanket of dreams, untouched by the worries of the world.

When morning light crept into the room, she stirred, a hint of embarrassment washing over her. “I wrinkled Your Highness’s clothes,” she mumbled, glancing at Dashnell.

He chuckled softly, a warmth spreading through him. It was more than just the rumpled fabric; his arm had gone numb from being pinned beneath her.

Yet, witnessing her peaceful slumber, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her. “Sleep a little longer,” he urged gently.

He waited patiently, hoping his arm would regain feeling, so he wouldn’t embarrass himself by struggling to rise.

Margaery, blushing slightly, began to tidy herself, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s daylight, Your Highness. Are you planning to leave?”

“Mm,” he replied, his gaze assessing her delicate features. “There are matters I must attend to. Someone will stay by your side. Should you need anything, just have them send word.”

She perked up, excitement dancing in her eyes. “If nothing unexpected happens, your mentor will come to see you today.”

Margaery’s heart raced at the thought. “Your Highness, do you know where my mentor went?”

Her mind was clouded with worry for Craig, fearing he might face repercussions because of her.

She had intended to visit him that very day, but the unexpected mention from Dashnell caught her off guard.

Dashnell nodded reassuringly. “Don’t fret; he is safe.”

Yesterday, Simon had been confined within the palace walls, hidden away from her.

Margaery had never considered the complications of managing two identities simultaneously.

In truth, she had never really known much about Craig or Simon, neither in her past life nor in this one.

Moreover, the gulf between their statuses was vast and unbridgeable.

No ordinary soul would ever think to connect the two.

At that moment, Adam entered with breakfast, breaking the spell that held them.

Finally, Dashnell stretched his numb arm, climbed out of bed, washed up, and joined her for the meal.

In the modest inn, they sat across from each other, an unexpected warmth blooming in their hearts, as if they had shared countless ordinary days together.

Margaery gazed at him, her voice barely a whisper. “I want to look at Your Highness like this for a lifetime.”

Her heart raced, a tempest of emotions swirling within her. She had always been the reserved type, but this moment shattered those walls.

When feelings surged, it became nearly impossible to maintain that reserve.

Reservations often led to missed opportunities, and she realized that when something—or someone—was too precious to lose, one had to fight for it, to stoke the flames of passion.

Dashnell’s lips curled into a soft smile. “You will.”

The knowledge that the person he loved reciprocated his feelings filled him with a sense of unparalleled fortune. He reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and reverent. “In at most two months, we will be together.”

But outside their cocoon, storms brewed in the court, a tempest that could not be quelled by mere wishes.

Even in stillness, others would act.

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