Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 34

**TITLE: Whispers Shape Distant Tomorrows by Aren Cole Vale**
**Chapter 34**

Margaery raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp as she assessed Avery. “So, Lady Christina gave Russell a hard time. What does that have to do with me?” She was trying to decipher the real reason for his unexpected presence today, her mind racing with possibilities.

Avery, caught off guard by her question, hesitated for a moment. He recalled the task he had been assigned and restrained the urge to reprimand her. Instead, he said, “Just get in the carriage. There’s a new restaurant, Pero Cela, that just opened. I thought we could try it out.”

“Let’s go and give it a shot. Dominic’s already ordered food and is waiting for us there. Oh, and about that prescription issue—I owe you an apology.”

Margaery’s eyes flickered over to him, suspicion dancing in her mind. *If he’s behaving this oddly, there’s definitely a scheme at play. What are Avery and Dominic plotting?*

Noticing her reluctance, Avery pressed on, “Come on, it’s freezing out here.” His tone held a genuine note of concern, as if he truly cared about her comfort.

“Fine.” With a resigned sigh, Margaery climbed into the carriage, choosing silence over further discussion.

Avery felt a slight wave of relief wash over him, and he offered her a piece of candy, a small token of goodwill. “I made this myself. Give it a try.”

“No, thanks. I have a toothache,” Margaery replied, shaking her head firmly. She had grown weary of such trivial gestures, no longer willing to be swayed by them.

Avery’s brow furrowed in disappointment. The Margaery he remembered was someone who would have eagerly accepted anything he offered, regardless of its taste or quality. This was the first time she had turned down his kindness, and it stung more than he cared to admit.

*So the distance between us is real now,* he thought, an uncomfortable pang tightening his fists on his knees. In frustration, he turned and tossed the candy onto the snow-covered ground, the gesture feeling like a silent farewell to their former camaraderie.

Margaery caught the movement from the corner of her eye and let out a cold, humorless laugh. *Now, he can’t even pretend anymore,* she mused, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and sadness.

The atmosphere within the carriage thickened with an awkward silence. Avery, desperate to fill the void, finally said, “Lord Dominic’s birthday party is in ten days. Have you thought about what gift you’ll bring? Do you need any assistance?”

“It’s all handled. Don’t trouble yourself,” Margaery replied, her voice flat and devoid of warmth.

“Alright then.” After a brief pause, Avery ventured further, “Your wedding to Dominic is fast approaching. This morning, the Hadleys sent their formal proposal.”

“We need to start making arrangements. Since Mother passed away early, the responsibility for your dowry falls to you.”

He continued, “If you don’t want to handle it all yourself, consider hiring someone. They can work through the night; I’m sure they’ll have everything ready before the big day. What style of bridal gown do you prefer?”

As he spoke, Avery couldn’t shake the thought that after the wedding, Margaery would likely be forced to confess about the prescription in front of Cillian, leading to her punishment in the Clan Court. The thought of her suffering made him feel a bit better; he wanted to make her remaining time as pleasant as possible before that grim reality set in.

“I am your brother, after all,” he added, trying to convey sincerity. “If there’s anything else you truly need, just let me know. I’ll make sure you have it.”

Sitting so close to him, Avery’s words grated on Margaery’s nerves. She turned her head sharply, her voice laced with skepticism. “Is that a promise? Anything I want?”

“Of course,” he nodded earnestly.

“Then I want nothing else,” Margaery declared, her tone firm. “I want that bolt of silk Queen Angelina gifted us two weeks ago. I’ll use it for my wedding gown.”

Avery’s expression darkened at her request. “Impossible. That silk has already been given to Tessa.”

Margaery let out a cold laugh, sharp with disdain. Avery found himself momentarily speechless, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

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