My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 146

Chapter 146 Unspoken Currents

+5 Free Coins

Since returning to Jexburgh, Fiona had not stepped beyond the Niven Estate gates for an entire month.

The excuse she offered Soren–nursing her health–was not wholly contrived.

Jexburgh’s damp winter air left her listless, muscles heavy as wet silk. Yet even in full vigor she would never have entered Clearsky Pavilion. His invitation had been brutally straightforward, summoning her to discuss marriage. She had no intention of letting their entanglement advance that far.

That afternoon, Meryl joined her beneath the bare–limbed plane trees, letting the pale sun wash their laps in light.

“Your father is managing in Junbert,” Meryl said, voice pitched low and even. “But returning any time soon will not be easy.”

“Next year at the earliest,” Fiona replied, turning her face toward the sun though its warmth barely reached her skin.

Meryl added, “I hear Mr. Xavier will be back within days. He quelled the bandits so cleanly that Emperor Aldric now trusts him with greater burdens. A handsome promotion is likely waiting.”

Word traveled fast in Jexburgh. Households eager for advantage had already sent gifts and smiles to the Luthor Estate.

Until now, Xavier’s pedigree had been his lone shortfall. In looks and talent he surpassed most. With hard–won merit added, he stood among the capital’s finest sons–bait for every eligible daughter.

“Mr. Xavier was wounded in Junbert,” Fiona said. “His success is solid fact. If His Majesty shortchanges him, no one will volunteer for such thankless toil again.”

Xavier’s presence in Junbert had smoothed many roads for her father; without him, Zachary’s duties would have run twice as rough.

Meryl studied her, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Why do you suppose I keep mentioning him?”

Fiona said nothing. She did not dislike Xavier–far from it—but the tangled mess with Soren had to be cleared before her heart could contemplate anyone at all.

“Victoria favors you over every other girl,” Meryl went on. “She brings up your name each time

1/3

12:08 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 146 Unspoken Currents

+5 Free Coins

we meet. Still, our first task is your coming–of–age ceremony–we must arrange it without delay.”

Fiona’s next venture beyond the estate came on invitation from Florence. She meant to cultivate that friendship, so she accepted at once.

The palace gates loomed unchanged, corridors of shadow swallowing the afternoon light.

Inside Splendor Palace, she found Florence chatting with Naomi, their laughter echoing softly against mosaicked walls.

“Why must Fiona come?” Naomi whispered. “My third brother suffered because of her grandmother. Seeing her will be terribly awkward.”

“We young ladies need not inherit our elders‘ grudges,” Florence said, tone gentle yet firm. “Your mother may dislike her, but must you?”

Naomi fell silent. She did like Fiona. Fiona, who never quarreled, who met every slight with gracious ease.

“Mother loathes the Princess Royal’s Estate most of all,” Naomi muttered at last. “If not for them, my third brother’s marriage would already be settled. Ms. Isabella of the Muirhaven family has adored him since they were children.”

“Your mother will never know,” Florence whispered, her tone half–conspiratorial, half–thrilled. “We’ll slip away and have our own adventure with Fiona.”

The words tumbled from her lips like secret bells chiming in a stone corridor, quick and bright and irresistible.

While the two girls planned with breathless excitement, Fiona lingered at the doorway, her smile softening into thoughtful silence. Instead of joining them, she drifted toward the adjacent garden where spring sprawled in manicured abundance.

Every bloom inside the Imperial Palace seemed painted by a patient god–petals lacquered with dawn, leaves polished by dew, air perfumed with a sweetness that coaxed even the most guarded heart to breathe deeper.

“Fiona, why are you standing here all alone? Shouldn’t you be looking for Florence?” Zephyr’s warm voice rose behind her, smooth as sunlight sliding across marble.

Fiona turned. The movement was unhurried, a silk ribbon unfurling through quiet air.

Her gaze

brushed past Soren with the same polite detachment she would grant a well–bred stranger at court. Not a single heartbeat lingered on him.

2/3

12:08 Wed, Oct 15.

Chapter 146 Unspoken Currents

系列

*5 Free Coins

“Good day, Lord Soren. Good day, Zephyr.” She dipped in a flawless curtsey, voice clear yet carefully measured, offering no more than etiquette required. O

Soren wore smoke–blue suit and a long cloak etched with subtle patterns that caught the light like hidden steel. A gold coronet gathered his dark hair, and the effortless splendor of it all felt almost unfair–beauty sharpened into a weapon.

Too perfect, she mused behind steady lashes. A man carved so finely never stays in still water. Best admired from a distance, never held too tight. I learned that lesson once–and paid dearly. Handsome cannot feed hunger unless the woman herself holds power. Then, and only then, may she toy with such loveliness for a passing season.

“We’re running late,” Soren said to Zephyr, his voice low, almost chilled, as though every wasted minute shaved silver from a blade only he could see.

Zephyr offered an apologetic smile toward Fiona. “Father is expecting us. Forgive me–I can’t stay to entertain you today.”

The prince’s regret felt genuine, a candle trying its best against a draft.

Fiona inclined her head, graceful acceptance in every line of her posture.

Moments later the two men strode away, their cloaks slicing polite arcs through the sunlit corridor until they vanished beyond a colonnade.

Zephyr’s chuckle drifted back, light as a tossed pebble. “She rivals Luna, doesn’t she?”

A faint curve tugged at Soren’s mouth–half smile, half wince. She could greet Zephyr as “cousin” yet spare Soren nothing but frost.

She probably lavishes more warmth on Zephyr’s pet parrot than on me, he thought, the notion turning his smile into something brittle.

Zephyr laughed louder. “If you can’t see Fiona’s beauty, Soren, perhaps the monastery calls your name.”

Soren did see it–saw it too well. He remembered the raw, exquisite poetry of her body beneath his, the way her eyes had shimmered like dusk before a summer storm. The memory struck with blinding clarity, leaving his pulse unsteady.

Beauty that ruins sleep, he admitted to himself, and yet I keep returning to the dream.