Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 62

**TITLE: Whispers Shape Distant Tomorrows by Aren Cole Vale**
**Chapter 62: A Knot**

Amber’s brow furrowed slightly, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement as she regarded Margaery. With a playful grin, she declared, “Well, if you think it’s all right, then I suppose it must be fine by me too.”

Margaery’s lips turned upwards into a soft smile, her heart warmed by the trust reflected in the maid’s bright eyes. *This time, I won’t let that trust be shattered,* Margaery promised herself, a silent vow echoing in her mind.

Suddenly, Amber’s expression shifted, a shadow of worry crossing her features. “Oh, and there’s something else I need to tell you,” she said, her voice lowering conspiratorially. “While I was out buying bread earlier, I overheard some folks gossiping about you and Lord Dominic getting married. It’s as if the entire city has become aware overnight!”

Margaery raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not particularly concerned. “Oh? And what of it?” she replied nonchalantly.

Amber continued, her voice tinged with disbelief. “It feels like your marriage to Lord Dominic is already a done deal. How did everything escalate to this point?”

Margaery shrugged, unfazed by the rumors swirling around her. “Let them chatter as they wish. Even if someone is intentionally spreading these tales, it holds no weight in my heart.”

In her mind, she mused that the backlash from such gossip would eventually ensnare those who had started it. Margaery had a strong suspicion that the Hadley family, alongside the Chancellor’s estate, was orchestrating this campaign to solidify the narrative that she and Dominic were engaged, all to deter Dashnell’s meddling.

The rumors themselves didn’t truly sting her; they merely left a bad taste in her mouth. *How utterly distasteful,* she thought, her lips curling in disdain.

Just then, a maid from Sunbeam Court, Sophie, appeared at the door, clutching a few scraps of fabric. “Lady Margaery, these are some pieces Lady Tessa sent as a token of apology. They may not be much, but since they’re palace silk, I suppose they could be fashioned into a pouch or something similar.”

Sophie hesitated at the threshold, her body tense with apprehension. She had witnessed the slap marks on Tessa’s face—those were no mere embellishments. The last thing she wanted was to find herself on the receiving end of such wrath.

Yet, the sight of Tessa’s mistreatment ignited a fire within Sophie. “Lady Margaery, you often claim indifference, but it seems to me you’ve made things quite difficult for Lady Tessa. After all this time, it’s clear that your father and brothers hold her in higher regard than you.”

Margaery’s response was cool and dismissive. “And what of it?”

She scrutinized Sophie, trying to decipher her true intentions, before looking her directly in the eye. Sophie recoiled slightly, instinctively retreating a step.

“Tessa’s dowry is twice as substantial as yours for this wedding. The elegance of her attire, the adornments in her hair—everything is far superior to what you possess,” Sophie continued, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and malice. “If you two stand apart, perhaps no one will notice. But once you walk down the aisle together, it will be glaringly obvious who the true favorite is.”

Sophie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “If I were in your position, I would start making amends with Lady Tessa. Once you’re entwined with the Hadley family, it’s Tessa whom Lord Dominic truly favors. And Lady Alicia is coming to bless the union between Tessa and Dominic—not yours.”

In the past, such words would have struck a chord deep within Margaery, but now, they merely elicited a scoff from her. She met Sophie’s gaze unwaveringly and retorted, “But I am not you.”

Sophie’s breath caught in her throat, taken aback by the retort. *What did she mean by that?* she wondered, confusion clouding her thoughts.

Before Sophie could gather her thoughts to respond, a sharp, mocking laugh sliced through the air from outside. “And who do you think you are, daring to speak to Lady Margaery in such a manner?”

As if summoned by the very words, Russell strode into the room, his presence commanding and fierce. He turned to the guards with authority and barked, “Get this treacherous maid out of the Chancellor’s estate at once!”

Sophie gasped, her heart racing as she spun around, dropping to her knees in a flurry of panic. “My Lord Russell! I was merely following orders to deliver gifts to Lady Margaery. I meant no disrespect! Please, forgive me!”

Russell, his patience worn thin, kicked her squarely in the chest, sending her sprawling backward. “Had I not heard your insolence myself, I might have believed your pathetic excuses!”

“Get lost!” he commanded, his voice dripping with disdain.

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