Author Margaret Way Novels & Stories

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "Do you know someone who works at the entertainment club?" I asked. I saw she was lost for a second and it seemed her body got tense. She shook her head. "No..." she shortly replied. She reached for a glass of water and drank it straight. She looked really tense. "There is someone who works at the entertainment club who lives in your village," I opened up and started eating again. "Do you know someone named Magda? She's a good friend of mine," I asked and glanced in her direction.

Watching the way Adrian seemed to relax in her presence. Margaret appeared next, dressed impeccably as always, and took her seat at the head of the table. She poured herself tea with deliberate slowness, and I saw her eyes move between Adrian and Vanessa with something like satisfaction. "Vanessa, did you try the lavender sachets I put in your room?" Margaret asked, her voice warm with genuine affection. An affection I'd never heard directed at me. "They were lovely, thank you," Vanessa said, her eyes briefly touching Adrian's before returning to Margaret. "So thoughtful of you."

Not just use it… control it completely. Margaret, it turned out, wasn’t just working for them. She was their top agent, their spearhead. She had Vance’s full blueprints, knew his original dream, and now she believed she could bring it to life with Ari as the final piece. To her, this wasn’t a crime. It was a mission. She thought she was chosen to lead a new world order, and Ari was the spark that would ignite it.

Generally, it looked homey and nature-friendly. “You need not come here, You Highness. You should still be resting in your chamber,” Margaret told me, clasping her hands as if she was praying for my health. Garbed in jeans and a plain white loose blouse, she looked in her mid fifties with a nice bob cut. Wrinkles formed on her forehead but despite this, her beauty still was visible. I felt immediately at ease with her. Just one look and I knew she and I could be really good friends. “I’m feeling healthy, Margaret, but thank you for your concern,” I stated, smiling warmly. “I just wanted to extend my gratitude to you and your pack. I wasn’t able to do so days ago when your healers healed me.”

Margaret saw her again. Marjorie. She lived in a villa on the south side of the city, a place isolated from the world. Apart from the few people who took care of her and Gavin, no one ever came by. But Margaret had been here before. She had studied the villa completely. She knew where people could be concealed. Marjorie looked surprisingly well, wearing a long white dress and draped in Gavin's coat. Margaret felt like a thief. She had rushed out in such a hurry earlier, running so fast that she lost one of her shoes. Now, barefoot, she stood in the muddy earth, feeling the cold sting of dirt and the tiny crawl of ants against the soles of her feet.

Margaret was so angry that she almost fainted. Margaret had always claimed to be a noble lady, surrounded by classy people who wouldn't use profanities. But people on the internet were neither gentlemen nor gentlewomen. They didn't mind swearing when they disapproved of something Margaret could hardly breathe after reading the vulgar curses people threw at the evil mother-in-law and sh*tty husband. She immediately called Edric,

“If Lady Margaret was powerful enough to strip you of your power, what makes you think she’s not powerful enough to blast her way out of here and just kill all of you? There’s no one as powerful as she is here, right? You are the only one who’s a match for her and she one upped you and took away your powers. Now, does it make sense that I’m not her?” “I cannot follow the words you say,” Vivian muttered while she clearly struggled with what she did understand. “What manner of speaking is this?” “This manner of speaking is my manner of speaking. It’s the speech of the future. I-am-not-Lady-Margaret! I-am-Jane-Wells!” I said as slowly and plainly as I could. “Lady Margaret is where?” she

* “Thank you. I feel like the whole world is against me. They think I’m jealous of Amanda and Tom. They don’t believe he could still be obsessed with me.” Margret poured tea with graceful movements. “Some people see only what they want to see. Amanda is happy with Tom, so they assume you must be the problem. But I believe you, dear. A woman knows when danger lingers from her past.” She handed Sara the cup, her touch lingering a second too long. “Drink this. It will help after such a horrible night.” But none of them saw the venom beyond Margret's words.. She was determined to strike when the time was right.

We weren’t friends, but we weren’t enemies either. Margaret was wearing a chartreuse gown embroidered with lily pads. The Beta’s wife’s name is Lily. Margaret has striking features. Her skin is the color of a summer elk. Her hair falling around her face in large chestnut brown ringlets. She has almond shaped chocolate brown eyes. “All these girls talking like they never heard the Epic of Cordelia.” Margaret quietly and snarkily said. “Right? A slave mating to the Kingdom of the Moon is a death sentence.” I responded dryly.

I could barely focus on eating breakfast, the piece of egg on the end of my fork somehow making its way into my mouth while my eyes remain trained on the scribbled notes. I have already read through Margaret’s journal multiple times now, soon learning that not only did she create perfumes that could cure illnesses caused by black magic, but she also had recipes for perfumes that could cure other natural diseases. It is indeed a riveting read, and I consider Margaret a pioneer of her time.