Reborn I Refuse To Save The Traitors (Margaery) novel Chapter 75

**Chapter 75: How Dare You Hurt Me?**

Raul pivoted sharply, his heart heavy, and exited the room, his feet carrying him to the courtyard where he sank to his knees on the frozen ground.

The snowfall had ceased, yet the biting wind howled like a wild beast, and soon, he found himself trembling uncontrollably, the chill seeping into his very bones.

In that moment of despair, a memory pierced through the fog of his mind—Margaery, his beloved daughter, had knelt in the midst of a fierce snowstorm for an entire day and night, desperately pleading for his forgiveness. The conditions then had been as unforgiving as they were now.

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed at his heart like a dagger.

‘What have I done to my own daughter!’ he lamented inwardly, the weight of his actions crashing down upon him.

Inside the room, Craig observed Raul from behind the closed door, a cold smile flickering across his face as he watched the man shiver in the frigid air. Turning his attention back to Margaery, he began to administer acupuncture, his voice steady yet laced with concern. “This injury doesn’t appear to be the result of a mere fit of anger. It bears the marks of someone intent on taking her life.”

Dashnell’s expression darkened, his brow furrowing deeply. “If that’s the case, then they are targeting the King’s life—and the fate of our entire kingdom hangs in the balance.”

Margaery was never meant to be just a Star of Fortune.

That title had been conjured by Dashnell during a discussion with Simon at the Hall of Divinity, a desperate attempt to shield Margaery from harm. He had believed that by intertwining her destiny with the King’s, she would find safety and security.

Yet here she lay, injured in her own home, a victim of the very threats they sought to protect her from.

‘This time, Clyde won’t escape my wrath. I will ensure he pays dearly for this transgression. He won’t even see it coming!’ Dashnell seethed, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

Outside, Raul strained to hear the conversation, his heart racing with anxiety for Margaery. He cursed Clyde under his breath, the weight of the situation pressing heavily upon him.

This chaos would undoubtedly force him to confront the King himself, confessing his guilt and shattering the Wallen family’s reputation once more. Clyde’s dreams of becoming an official would be dashed, leaving him with nothing.

In less than a month, he had already lost two of his five sons. If this turmoil continued, the Chancellor’s estate would surely crumble into ruin.

A tempest of worry and sorrow engulfed Raul, freezing him to the core, both in body and spirit.

‘Mom…’ Margaery murmured as consciousness slowly returned to her, the pain that had haunted her dreams now manifesting in reality, heavier and more suffocating than she could have imagined.

It felt as if her heart had been drenched in poison—an agony so acute that words failed her. As her vision cleared, she realized the figure beside her was not her mother—the one who had always comforted her and promised to shield her in her dreams. No, it was Dashnell.

He had shed his white fur cloak and draped it over her, a gesture that stirred something warm within her despite the coldness of his attire—a smoky blue robe that seemed both simple and distant. Yet to her, it radiated an overwhelming warmth that brought tears to her eyes. “Your Highness…” she choked out, her voice quivering with emotion.

“How are you feeling?” Dashnell inquired softly, concern etched into his features.

He took her hand gently, his voice trembling with worry.

It had only been an hour since they discovered her injured, but to him, it felt like an eternity.

In that brief span, the worry had etched bloodshot veins across his dark eyes, a testament to his sleepless night.

His lips were parched and cracked, the exhaustion evident in his demeanor.

Margaery studied his face, her heart racing. “I’m fine, but… What have I done to deserve such care from you?”

A flicker of realization washed over her. She harbored feelings for Dashnell, a yearning to be his bride.

‘But how could someone like him ever fall for someone like me?’ she pondered, incredulous at the thought.

With her father just outside, there were words she felt she could not voice.

Dashnell’s response was steady, “You are the Star of Fortune, your fate intertwined with the King’s. If I do not protect you, who will?”

As he spoke, he gently assisted her in sitting up, allowing her to rest against his chest as he carefully brought water to her lips. “Just rest for now. Everything else will be taken care of,” he reassured her, his voice deeper than usual, slightly hoarse, yet still imbued with gentleness.

But Margaery sensed an undercurrent of heaviness in his tone.

Something had shifted between them.

Oblivious to Raul’s presence outside, she lowered her gaze and murmured, “There are still matters I need to attend to at the Chancellor’s estate…”

“Someone else will handle that for you,” Dashnell replied softly but with an air of finality.

His tone was gentle, yet it brooked no argument. Casting a cool glance toward the door, he added, “The Lord Chancellor is kneeling in the courtyard. He should understand the gravity of endangering the kingdom’s fate. Margaery, do not concern yourself with anything else. Just rest,” he urged, his voice softening.

Margaery was momentarily taken aback.

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words faltered on her lips.

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