Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 36

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

**Chapter 36**

“Is there truly any necessity for me to remain here?” Margaery inquired, her eyes locking onto Dominic’s with an intensity that betrayed her skepticism.

“There is,” Dominic asserted, inhaling deeply as he wrestled with his own impatience. “Once the guests arrive, I will summon you downstairs. It is my intention to offer you a public apology, in front of everyone, to prove my genuine remorse.”

“And what if I choose to leave regardless?” Margaery’s brow furrowed, her expression a mix of defiance and doubt. She knew Dominic too well to take his words at face value.

Just then, Joshua rose from his seat, moving toward her with an air of solemnity. “Today marks the anniversary of your wet nurse’s passing,” he stated, his voice steady yet somber. “Her memorial tablet is located upstairs. Our father will be arriving shortly to pay his respects. Are you truly intent on departing?”

“Why would her memorial tablet be here?” Margaery’s anxiety spiked, her heart racing. “When she passed away, Father would not even permit her burial in the family plot.”

Joshua’s tone remained smooth and unyielding. “Precisely because she could not rest in the family plot, we arranged for a separate memorial here. This building is new and untouched—everything is pristine. From now on, that room will be her resting place. You should go upstairs and light a candle for her.”

With no further arguments left to make, Margaery felt compelled to comply. She turned and ascended the staircase to the third floor, her heart heavy with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow.

However, the moment she stepped into the room, an overwhelming force struck her, and darkness enveloped her mind. Pain exploded in her head, and she crumpled to the ground, the world around her fading into a blur.

As her consciousness slipped away, she heard a man’s mocking voice. “Don’t blame me for being rough. Blame yourself for not knowing your place. What good does it do you to ruin Lord Avery’s career? Dreaming of ensnaring Prince Dashnell? Keep dreaming.”

Panic surged through Margaery as she fought to push herself up and flee, but her body betrayed her, refusing to respond. There was something amiss with the incense wafting in the air. While she wasn’t an expert in medicine, she had once assisted Craig in identifying herbs. The scent that filled the room was unmistakably that of a love potion.

They were plotting to tarnish her reputation. All the talk about the wet nurse and the apology had been nothing more than a ruse. Soon, Dominic would come upstairs, and under the influence of the drug, they would orchestrate an affair, only to be interrupted by Joshua or Avery, arriving with witnesses to catch them in the act.

In that moment, she realized the terrible truth: they would lay the blame for drugging Dominic and her supposed promiscuity squarely at her feet. She would become a pariah, reviled by all. If, by some twist of fate, Dominic chose to marry her afterward, it would be a mere act of charity—never as his legitimate wife. They would force her into a role as a mere concubine, compelled to confess her “crimes” in court, with no one to defend her honor.

The thought of Dashnell, the proud and powerful prince, never tolerating a woman with a tarnished reputation sent waves of dread crashing over her. It was a meticulously woven trap, a dead end from which there was no escape. Terror gripped her heart as her fingers clawed desperately at the floor, seeking a way out.

Meanwhile, the man who had struck her hurried downstairs to report to Joshua. “Lord Joshua, it’s done,” he announced, a smirk playing on his lips. “Once Lord Dominic goes up, Lady Margaery will lose all restraint. Then you can head upstairs with a few friends under the pretext of searching for Lord Dominic.”

“Go,” Joshua commanded, taking a deep breath as a cold glint of ruthlessness flickered in his eyes. “Instruct the kitchens to prepare; the guests will be arriving shortly.”

As he contemplated the situation, Joshua rationalized, ‘Sacrificing Margaery for the good of the Chancellor’s estate is justified. She brought this upon herself. If she hadn’t caused a scene at the Royal Medical Hall, if she had simply stayed away from Dashnell, would she find herself in this predicament?’ He quickly silenced any remnants of doubt that dared to linger in his mind.

*****

Meanwhile, the front of Pero Cela buzzed with guests, laughter and chatter filling the air. Estelle and Nathaniel, out of respect for the Chancellor’s estate, had come accompanied by a lively entourage. The atmosphere was vibrant and welcoming.

Joshua greeted them with a practiced charm and a warm, mature smile. “Prince Nathaniel and Princess Estelle, welcome! It has been far too long since we gathered. Let us indulge in a fine drink this evening.”

Nathaniel chuckled, playing along with the jovial atmosphere. “Indeed, it has been a while. It seems you’ve developed quite the taste for wine, haven’t you?”

Nathaniel needed allies more than ever; with his mother, Angelina, gone, his position at court hung by a thread. Aligning himself with the Chancellor was crucial for his survival.