Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 40

**Whispers Shape Distant Tomorrows by Aren Cole Vale**
**Chapter 40**

“Lady Serena bestowed this upon me, what?” Margaery replied, her smile radiant and bright. The swan hairpin, delicately framing her hair, accentuated her natural beauty—a beauty that was fierce and captivating, almost as if it were a challenge to those who dared to gaze upon her.

To Estelle, however, it felt more like a taunt than a gift. The late king’s authority loomed large, an unassailable force even in Estelle’s royal life. The gesture of Serena gifting Margaery the swan hairpin signified an implicit approval of her as a future daughter-in-law, a blessing that Estelle found infuriating.

A tempest of emotions brewed within Estelle, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She clenched her fists until her knuckles turned white, fighting against the urge to shout. With a swift turn, she fixed her gaze on Joshua, her voice taut with suppressed fury. “You claimed her wet nurse’s tablet was here?”

“N-No, not me,” Joshua stammered, panic flashing across his face as he scrambled to deny the accusation. “She’s just spouting nonsense. Why would I say something so ridiculous? This is a restaurant. No sane person would place memorial tablets for the deceased in such a place.”

Joshua had not anticipated the situation spiraling out of control when he uttered those words. Now, denial seemed to be his only refuge.

He turned his attention to Margaery, his voice dripping with disdain. “Lies need a foundation. Please, stop causing trouble here.” His tone suggested that it was Margaery who was weaving a web of deceit.

Margaery had witnessed Joshua’s cruelty in her previous life, but the sheer audacity of his shamelessness was a revelation. “So now,” she challenged, her voice steady, “you lack the courage to stand by your words?”

Inwardly, she reflected, ‘In my past life, I must have been blind to seek reconciliation with someone like him. The realization washed over her, bringing with it a wave of sorrow mixed with bitter amusement.

Joshua pressed on, “Margaery, just admit your mistakes. Attacking me won’t help your case. I am your brother; I won’t hold this against you.”

“But today, with Prince Nathaniel and Princess Estelle present, things could escalate beyond your control if you keep this up.”

He spoke with the confidence of someone who believed he held all the cards, radiating an air of magnanimity, convinced that Margaery had no evidence to counter him.

Margaery almost laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Just as she felt cornered, a figure emerged from behind her, casually positioning himself at her side.

With a languid drawl, he addressed Joshua, “Lord Joshua, I once thought you were a gentleman. Today, however, I see you for what you truly are—utterly shameless.”

“Mr. Morales?” Joshua frowned, a wave of discomfort washing over him. “What brings you here?”

Margaery turned to the man beside her, surprise etched on her face. Bernard Morales, heir to the vast Morales estate, was known for his carefree and unruly nature. He seldom involved himself in courtly affairs, preferring instead to immerse himself in bizarre inventions that often left others questioning his sanity.

Bernard’s roguish grin spread across his face. “I had to step in, Lord Joshua. You were spinning tales so convincingly that you might have started believing them yourself. I saw you push Margaery and insist she go to the third floor.”

He continued, “You mentioned the wet nurse’s memorial tablet was up there and that she should wait for the Lord Chancellor to pay his respects together. So, how did a moment of respect turn into this spectacle?”

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, the tension palpable. “Lord Joshua, what kind of theatrics is this?”

The guests Joshua had invited, initially inclined to support him, were now left stunned. Whose words should they trust—Joshua’s or Margaery’s?

Despite being the one who had summoned them, it was Bernard, the heir of the Morales estate, who boldly stepped forward to defend Margaery. He was no ordinary figure; the Morales estate was a formidable power, standing as the most influential noble house outside the royal bloodline.

Randal Morales, Bernard’s father, was Cillian’s sworn brother, having valiantly defended the northern borders in the king’s name for over two decades. The prestige attached to the heir of the Morales estate was immense, and Bernard’s words carried undeniable weight.

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