Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 181

**TITLE: Whispers Shape Distant Tomorrows by Aren Cole Vale**
**Chapter 181**

After their brief encounter, Margaery found it hard to believe that Nathaniel could ever emerge victorious in the fierce contest for the throne. Despite being the Crown Prince, with the King still harboring a flicker of hope for him, she could see the truth: Nathaniel was simply too foolish.

The silence that hung between them was palpable, and Nathaniel, feeling an uncomfortable tension, shifted his focus to Andrew. “Well then, you and Margaery enjoy your conversation. I must take my leave,” he declared, attempting to mask his discomfort.

“Of course,” Andrew replied, his tone neutral, “Father is expecting you in the Eastern Palace.” His words carried the weight of the Chancellor’s estate, a reminder of the political maneuvering at play.

A secret satisfaction bubbled within Nathaniel. “Then I shall not delay. The Chancellor’s time is valuable,” he said, hastily making his way down the staircase, eager to escape the awkwardness.

“Tsk, Prince Nathaniel truly looks starved for attention,” Wayne quipped, a smirk playing on his lips, unable to resist the urge to mock.

Adam shot Wayne a cold glance, his silence speaking volumes.

Nathaniel was indeed courting disaster.

Raul’s time in power was waning, a fact that the King was all too aware of. His intention was clear: to unseat the Chancellor and fortify his own royal authority by establishing the Wellspring Hall.

Yet Nathaniel, in his naivety, clung to the delusion that the Chancellor’s estate held power second only to the throne itself, foolishly believing it would secure his position as the rightful heir.

It was almost laughable.

But as Andrew approached, the mocking banter faded, and both Adam and Wayne fell silent.

“Margaery,” Andrew began, burdened with bags of varying sizes, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. “It’s been a year since we last crossed paths. I must admit, I didn’t expect to find you living in an inn.”

His surprise was evident; he had not anticipated seeing Margaery again after such a long separation.

Half a year prior, when he left with Grace, Margaery was still the sweet, innocent girl of the Chancellor’s estate, draped in luxurious fabrics and exuding an air of naïveté.

At that time, Tessa had just returned, her demeanor cautious and guarded, a stark contrast to Margaery’s seemingly sheltered existence.

But now, as he looked at her, Margaery appeared composed and serene, dressed in simple attire, a solitary jeweled hairpin the only remnant of her former status.

An aura of calm surrounded her, yet it also felt like a barrier, making her seem distant and unreachable.

Andrew was taken aback, recalling the ominous words Joshua had shared before his arrival. It was difficult to reconcile the notion that such actions could be attributed to Margaery.

Margaery, observing Andrew’s reaction, felt a swirl of emotions within her.

He was merely a year and a half her senior, yet while the other brothers had matured into their roles—studying diligently or honing their combat skills—Andrew and she had lingered in the carefree days of childhood.

He was the youngest brother, her childhood companion, and there was no denying the affection they had shared over the years.

However, that affection had become a hollow echo in her heart.

In her previous life, Margaery had held onto the belief that even if the world turned against her, Andrew would remain steadfast by her side.

Yet, she had been blindsided by the realization that Andrew, so close in age, could wield a cruelty that rivaled the others.

In a moment of betrayal, Andrew had severed her ties to life itself, leaving her vulnerable and broken.

Even now, the memory of that moment sent chills through her heart.

“The world is a fickle place. Who can say what awaits us in the next heartbeat?” Margaery finally regained her composure, turning to enter the room, her expression unreadable.

Andrew, sensing her indifference, felt a frown tug at his brow.

He pressed on, “The end of the year is always chaotic. Father and Joshua may have acted rashly, and… perhaps they’ve hurt you in the process.”

As he followed her inside, he placed the items he had carried onto the table, his gaze fixed on her. “But truly, they regret it. They wouldn’t have sent me to fetch you otherwise.”

“After all, Father is an elder. When you defied him, it was difficult for him to yield,” Andrew continued, his voice laced with urgency. “But he does care for you. Just a moment ago, he expressed concern over your injury.”

“And what of it?” Margaery replied, her gaze piercing into him.

In her mind, she thought, ‘Raul’s sons are indeed adept at weaving lies. Raul has already enlisted Sullivan to end my life, yet here is Andrew, attempting to placate me.’

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