Russell’s blood boiled–not just at Margaery’s thoughtless ways, which stung like a fresh wound, but at Avery, always playing the saint with that smog, peacemaking air,
Margaery’s health had been frail of late. He’d heard rosewood could calm the spirit, so he’d trudged to Cloudveil Abboy to fetch her a blessed charm.
He’d even carved a tiny hollow in a hairpin to hide it–a delicate job for his rough hands.
By the time he’d etched half a phoenix into the wood, his fingers were nicked and raw.
For two weeks, he kept it secret, hiding it from Margaery’s eyes.
Now, the memory brought a bitter pang to his heart.
“Russell,” Avery said, stepping close, his voice soft but sharp, “you can swear you’re done with her, but we both know you’ve never let Margaery go. Out of all of us, you care for her most.”
“How about I set something up?” he went on. “We’ll grab some plum cakes, just us three. You two can talk, clear the air.”
“No chance!” Russell snapped, his voice hot with anger. “I don’t have a sister with a heart that cruel! Tessa fell from that rockery, and whether Margaery pushed her or not, she wanted her gone!”
“And you,” he spun on Avery, eyes blazing, “quit poking your nose in my business! You’re no better. She asks for help, you take her trinkets and walk off. When’ve you ever really had her back? The mess she’s in? That’s partly your doing!”
“Enough of your high–and–mighty airs!” Russell’s voice shook with scorn. “I’m done with the lot of you!”
With a rough push, he brushed past Avery and fled into the gathering dusk.
Avery’s cheeks burned, his breath stuck in his throat.
“I only wanted to mend their bond, to keep this family whole, he thought, stung. “Why am I the villain? Fine.”
He let out a weary sigh. ‘It’s Margaery’s doing, stirring up this storm.”
Tomorrow, he’d make her apologize to Russell, so he’d stop shooting Avery those bitter looks.
‘Margaery’s too much,’ he thought, irritation flaring. ‘A hairpin’s one thing, but Russell’s gift? That one held the charm he prayed over for her.
To give it away so carelessly–who wouldn’t be wounded?‘
Not Margaery. She swept into Gracewind Garden, all smiles.
Her maid, Amber, stepped forward, her voice low but firm. “My lady, how could you give away Lord Russell’s hairpin? It’s got the charm he had blessed for you, to keep you safe.”
Margaery’s smile cooled. “It’s fine, Amber. Let it keep Tessa safe now. That’s just as well.”
23:39 Wed, 20 Aug
Chapter 6
“But, my lady,” Amber pressed, “it’s not the same. The priest blessed it for you. It won’t protect her, even if you gave it to
Lady Tessa.”
Margaery’s gaze softened at Amber’s frostbitten hands.
“It’s just a charm,” she said gently. “What hurts more is how I’ve dragged you into this, sent off to do rough work.”
Amber, the daughter of Margaery’s late nursemaid, had stayed loyal since the old woman’s death.
There’d once been three other maids, but when Tessa arrived, their father sent the two eldest to serve her, leaving only
Amber and Paige at Gracewind Garden.
Paige had since turned to Tessa, leaving Amber as Margaery’s only true friend.
In her old life, Margaery had failed to protect herself or Amber. This time, she’d make it right.
She slipped a jar of healing salve into Amber’s hands. “Hold on a little longer,” she said. “I promise, we’ll leave this place
soon
“My lady… Amber’s voice wavered, torn between fear and hope.
Margaery patted her hand. “Go tend your hands. Don’t fret about the charm.”
She knew full well what that hairpin held.
In her old life, Tessa had coveted it, spinning a tale for Russell. “Brother, I’ve had such a hard life, always picked on. Here in Sinderin City. I’m scared to step out, afraid I’ll never see you again.
“Not like sister–she’s got your charm to keep her safe. The heavens must guard her.”
Swayed, Russell had stormed back to Margaery, demanding, “Give me that hairpin. The charm’s for Tessa now. You don’t deserve it.
Margaery’s heart broke, tears spilling over. That hairpin was more than a trinket–it was Russell’s love, a brother’s promise.
She gripped it tightly, voice shaking. “No! You gave it to me, Russell. You can’t take it back!”
But Russell didn’t care. He tore the hairpin from her head, yanking out a strand of hair.
Margaery gasped, pain and tears overwhelming her.
He sneered, unmoved. “If I’d known you’d act like this, I’d have tossed that charm to the dogs. From now on, I pray for Tessa, not you. You’ve made your mess–live with it.”
Margaery vowed never to trust Russell again. She’d cut ties with everyone in Chancellor’s house and forge her own path.
But a woman alone needed skill and strength to survive.
Craig could teach her both.
Margaery packed lightly, swapping velvet for rough linen. Heart heavy, she slipped out the estate’s back gate into the
Chapter 6
snowy unknown.
But as she stepped forward, she nearly collided with a wheelchair, stumbling to catch herself.
“Oh, I’m so sorry-” she began, flustered.
A steady hand caught her arm. The voice that followed was calm, almost otherworldly. “No harm done.”
Margaery looked up and froze, dropping into a curtsy. “Margaery greets Your Highness.”
The young man was striking–his features sharp, like carved marble, his skin pale as frost. A white fox–fur cloak draped his shoulders, giving him an ethereal glow in the snow.
Everyone knew that wheelchair in Sinderin City. Prince Dashnell Sutherland, the kingdom’s brightest star, cursed by fate.
His legs, useless since childhood, had stolen his claim to the throne. A flawed prince could never rule.
Up close, he was breathtaking. Margaery couldn’t help but wonder what brilliance he’d have shown if fate had been
kinder.
“Well, now,” Dashnell said, his voice light with curiosity as he let go of her arm. His eyes studied her plain clothes. “The Chancellor’s daughter, dressed like a commoner. Where’re you off to in such a hurry?”
Margaery’s chest tightened, but she kept her voice steady. “Just some urgent business, Your Highness. I didn’t mean to
offend.”
“Go on, then,” he said, his tone soft as moonlight on snow.
Margaery thanked him and hurried off.
Craig lived at the city’s edge, a long trek through heavy snow. The icy roads slowed her, and by the time she reached his
home, noon was near.
The frozen cobblestone path was empty.
She paused at a weathered door, breath clouding in the chill, and knocked softly, “Mr. Eastwick, it’s Margaery. Are you there?”
Ө
田
AD
Chapter 7
