Chapter 14
Paige’s words hung heavy as she glared at Margaery with righteous fire.
“Should I thank you for your concern?” Margaery’s lips twisted into a wry smile, her voice dripping with mockery. “My name’s already mud–do you think I care if it sinks lower?”
Her eyes flashed with cold resolve.
Paige faltered, uncertainty clouding her face. “What are you plotting?” she murmured.
She knew Margaery was changed. No tears at the banquet, and this afternoon, she’d dared to challenge Avery, demanding her healing recipe back.
She was not the Margaery of old.
Paige’s expression tightened with dread.
“I can’t banish you from this estate, Margaery said, her gaze sharp as winter frost, “but if I offered Tessa’s cure in exchange, do you think Father would send you away–or me?”
In her old life, Margaery had groveled to please lords and servants alike, only to be scorned.
Now, they’d crossed a woman forged anew.
Paige’s face paled.
Tessa was the family’s treasure. Last night, her ailment had kept the household awake, Raul standing vigil by her bedside till dawn.
Avery and Dominic had raided the apothecary, only to be beaten back with warnings–they’d have been thrashed senseless but for Raul’s name.
If Margaery offered that recipe, Paige would be gone.
Swallowing hard, Paige rose, her voice low. “I’ll leave, my lady. You’ll not see me again.” She covered her face and fled.
Margaery clutched her herbs and headed to brew her remedy.
But in the courtyard, a man approached–finely dressed, yet with a face so bruised it rivaled a butchered swine’s.
His gaze, locked on her, swirled with conflicted emotion. “Margaery,” he said warily, “who was that man you sent us to last night?”
Margaery eyed him, then smiled sweetly, her words laced with venom. “Why, Lord Dominic, is that you? I nearly mistook you for a hog escaped from a winter feast.”
Dominic’s fists clenched.
Her mocking “Lord Dominic” stung, and her insult–likening him to a swine–cut deeper.
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Chapter 14
But Tessa’s need for the recipe forced him to swallow his pride.
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“When did we grow so distant?” he asked, stepping closer, his brow furrowed. His voice softened, almost pleading, “Last night… was it revenge?”
Dashnell and a famed healer warrior had both set their sights on Margaery, stirring doubt in Dominic’s heart. ‘Have I misjudged her? Why would such men pursue a woman I deemed unworthy?”
The thought fanned a possessive spark. He couldn’t let her go–not yet. If she was to fall, it would be by his hand.
Forcing a smile, he leaned closer. “Margaery-”
“No,” she cut in, stepping back to keep her distance. “You wanted the recipe, didn’t you? I told you where I got mine.
What’s wrong with sending you there?”
Dominic frowned, her words a riddle he couldn’t solve. For Tessa, he curbed his temper and coaxed, “Enough games, Margaery. Tell me who he is, I’m begging you.”
“A beggar,” she said coolly. “Didn’t you boast your skills were unmatched in Sinderin City? Yet a mere beggar bested you?”
‘Begging me? Too late, she thought.
Margaery’s lip curled in disgust as she stepped back again, widening the gulf between them.
Dominic’s gaze pierced Margaery, certain her words hid a barb meant for him. Each step he took toward her, she matched with a step back, her distaste plain as day.
Yet, when he looked closer, her eyes were clear, her face innocent–as if she truly hadn’t expected to best that Craig in their
clash.
He comforted himself that perhaps she wasn’t spurning him after all. Maybe it was just his bruised, swollen face that made her wince–a mark that would fade with time.
Bolstering himself, Dominic said, “That old begger was no mere rogue. His swordplay could rival the realm’s finest. If you won that remedy from him, he must hold you in high regard.”
“And what of it?” Margaery replied, tossing herbs into the pot and kindling the fire beneath.
Dominic pressed on. “Seek him out today, and I’d wager he’ll give you the recipe without a fuss.”
Margaery’s lips curved in a faint, amused smile, as if he’d told a jest.
“Lord Dominic,” she said, her tone light but firm, “two things. First, I owe you nothing, and you don’t command me. Second, you’re my betrothed, not Tessa’s.
“You can now.”
She turned to stir the simmering brow.
She’d have to end this engagement soun, before Dominic’s meddling grew unbearable.
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Chapter 14
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His face darkened, eyes fixed on her before he spoke, voice low. “Tessa’s your sister, Margaery. She’s ill, yet you won’t help. Act like this, and you’ll never grace my family as my bride.”
He turned sharply and strode to the door.
Margaery’s smile was cold, private. Always the same tired game!
She ignored him.
At the threshold, Dominic paused, waiting for her to call him back. When no plea came, he lingered, caught between pride and retreat.
Finally, Margaery glanced up, her voice cool. “You’re right, Lord Dominic. Your house’s gates are too grand for me. But Gracewind Garden’s are just as proud, and I’d thank you not to cross them again. Mind your step–I’d hate for you to trip and blame me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dominic spun around, eyes narrowing.
He’d sensed her scorn at the gate yesterday. Now, she laid it bare.
“Exactly what you think,” Margaery said, eyes on the pot. “What you’ve wished for, perhaps.”
Dominic froze. He had considered breaking their bond for Tessa, even as recently as this morning.
Yet her sharp rejection stung his pride in a way he hadn’t expected. Too stubborn to plead, he stormed off.
Two steps out, he heard her call, “Amber, keep the door. Gracewind Garden bars rogues and cowards, lest some forget themselves.”
Dominic whirled back, his glare venomous.
Last night, in a fit of temper, he’d sworn he’d never returned to woo her. He thought she’d forgotten.
She hadn’t. She’d been waiting to throw it back at him.
Margaery, heedless of his anger, slipped into the kitchen.
Amber shot him a scathing look and slammed the gate with a resounding bang
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