My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132 Allies And Bargains

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Fiona did not need another word. The moment his final syllable faded, she understood. In their world, the quickest, surest way to fuse two houses was not a treaty but a wedding vow.

“You’re Zachary’s daughter, and I’ve always found you agreeable,” Prince Jinks said, his voice low yet unwavering. “Give me your hand for my grandson, and in return, I will see to it that your granny returns. What do you say?”

Fiona looked at Prince Jinks. A courteous smile curved his lips, yet everything about his tone told her he was deadly serious.

In her previous life, she had known next to nothing about the old bond between her grandmother and this prince, let alone the grandson he now offered.

“Marriage is a solemn matter,” Fiona replied, lowering her lashes to mask the turbulence in her eyes. “Forgive me, but I cannot decide so quickly.”

“I may spend most of my days far from Jexburgh,” Prince Jinks said. “But my status matches yours in standing, and with your granny between us, you would never be slighted under my roof.”

Fiona weighed the offer with a strategist’s calm. Whatever else could be said about the prince, he was still of imperial blood, and if managed wisely, his influence need not end in the ruin she had once witnessed.

His command over the army might also help loosen the noose tightening around her brother. On paper, then, the arrangement amounted to an excellent bargain, but all calculations paled beside the urgent need to keep Helen alive.

“You must realize that deliberately stirring conflict is high treason. I will not gamble my head unless the reward makes the risk worthwhile,” Prince Jinks murmured, a hard glint entering his

eyes.

Fiona lowered her gaze, offering no reply. What could I possibly lay before him that would make a prince court treason?

Later that afternoon, a column of riders thundered toward the manor, an ocher cloud billowing behind them. At their head rode a hard–eyed man in weather–stained armor, broad- shouldered and battle–honed.

Years in the army carved most men into something resembling granite. The shining, storybook faces kept at Alexander’s estate were rare exceptions. Even he had endured ridicule until one spectacular victory scorched every insult from memory.

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Chapter 132 Allies And Bargains

“Grandfather,” the newcomer said as he swung from the saddle, his words clipped yet respectful.

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“Ben, you are safely home,” Prince Jinks replied, a hint of warmth softening his stern voice.

“We have seized the man who was selling contraband salt,” Benedict Marchmont reported. “I await your judgment.”

“We will attend to that later. For now, we have a guest.” Prince Jinks gestured toward Fiona. “This is Fiona, granddaughter of Princess Helen.”

Benedict turned to her, his stare as cold and unyielding as iron at dawn.

Fiona answered with flawless courtesies–polite, distant, and no warmer than necessary.

Beside her, Cecilia’s expression flickered between amusement and alarm.

Back in their borrowed sitting room, Cecilia caught Fiona by the wrist. “Fiona, you must not marry him,” she whispered, eyes wide with urgency.

“Why not?” Fiona asked, genuine curiosity coloring her tone. “By every measure, he seems a respectable man.”

“You may not have heard the rumors in Jexburgh,” Cecilia breathed, leaning closer. “But everyone here knows Benedict prefers the company of men. Wed him, and your whole life will be wasted.”

Before Fiona could answer, she sensed a chill. Benedict stood at the far end of the corridor, watching her with shadowed eyes that made the lamplight itself feel unsafe.

Cecilia’s shoulders tightened, the half–formed protest dying on her tongue. Whatever she had meant to add melted beneath his unblinking stare. She withdrew into a brittle silence.

Two mornings later, Fiona pushed aside the coarse canvas flap of her tent and almost collided with Benedict, who stood as rigid as a spear in the dawn, boots dusted red and eyes sharpened by a sleepless night. “I need a fiancée–at least on paper–to shield me,” he said, voice pitched low yet urgent. “You are desperate to save your grandmother. Let us stage an engagement banquet now; later, we can invent a reason to call it off.”

Fiona blinked twice, surprise rippling across her face like wind over water. A sham engagement offered itself like a rope tossed to a drowning sailor. It could buy the time she needed.

Yet the timing felt too perfect, a coincidence so neat it pricked the back of her mind with

unease.

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Chapter 132 Allies And Bargains

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Several days later, the truth surfaced, carried on stray whispers drifting through campfires. Benedict’s mother had been bedridden for months, her illness entwined with his refusal to marry. Hoping beauty might redirect his preferences, Prince Jinks‘ Estate had proposed Fiona as a cure and an ally.

When Miranda Marchmont, daughter of Prince Jinks‘ Estate, heard that Benedict had unexpectedly agreed, she sprang from her sickbed within days, color returning to her cheeks with almost theatrical speed.

Fearing the chance might vanish like morning mist, she claimed her frailty could steal her life at any moment and ordered the engagement banquet to be held within the week.

“Your parents and granny cannot travel, yet I promise the future wedding will be nothing short of magnificent. Have you informed your parents?” Miranda asked, her smile earnest beneath the candle glow.

“I have already written to her,” Fiona replied with a breezy smile, hoping the lie would settle without echo. It is only a sham. If Mom heard, she would tear me apart.

“Excellent.” A visible breath left Miranda’s chest, her shoulders sinking as though a weight had been lifted.

Soren had planned to depart two days later. The unexpected arrival of a crimson wedding invitation from Prince Jinks‘ Estate forced him to recast his itinerary.

“Benedict has always favored men. How could Ms. Fiona possibly marry him?” Quentin muttered, studying Soren’s unreadable face.

Soren offered no answer, the tent’s shadow carving his profile into a statue of cool stone.

“Prince Jinks‘ Estate extends the invitation himself. We can hardly refuse,” Quentin added, lower now. “Yet I fear that wily Princess Helen may scheme with him to trap you.”

“Stay here in Yondale with Luna,” Soren said after a moment of thought. “I will attend alone. If I don’t return within two days, ride for Jexburgh and report. Prince Jinks‘ Estate will not dare

harm me.”

Lanterns burned at every vantage, their amber halos pushing back the dusk. Crimson silk fluttered from spear shafts and wagon wheels alike. The rough army camp, stripped of its usual iron smell, now strained toward celebration.

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Chapter 133 Camp Engagement

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