My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 15

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Chapter 15 Silent Lessons

Chapter 15 Silent Lessons

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At times, Fiona came across Roxanne and Soren together. Many pleaded for his guidance, yet he agreed to instruct only Roxanne.

Even then, a respectful distance always yawned between them.

Roxanne remained poised, and Soren stayed cautious. Both guarded propriety with almost ceremonial care.

Fiona made it a point to steer clear of their orbit.

Sometimes her avoidance grew so meticulous that it bordered on awkward.

That morning, as always, Fiona rose before the first bird dared test the silence.

Pale veils of mist curled among the mountains, turning dawn into something torn from legend.

She led her horse toward the meadow, bow slung across her shoulder, reins warm in her palm. People praised her swift progress in riding and archery, never guessing how many unseen hours had fueled that climb.

A hundred paces from the lake, she slipped the reins free, letting the gelding nose through dew–soaked grass.

She lifted her gaze and froze. Soren stood bare to the waist, water still tracking across broad shoulders and narrowing at a sculpted waist.

The sight felt as rare as hen’s teeth, beauty fierce and unforgettable.

The hunting camp lay far from city comforts. Hot water went first to the ladies, so the men chose quiet hours to wash in the lake.

Soren pulled a fitted riding jacket over his torso and cinched the belt, shuttering the brief bloom of accidental spring.

Fiona held her breath, every muscle pulled tight. Seconds ago, she had been studying the lines of Soren’s half–dressed body–and the two of them stood alone then, a man and an unchaperoned woman, her reputation perched on a knife–edge.

Right then, the horse stomped and snorted, hooves clacking in the morning hush.

Soren pivoted toward the sound.

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Chapter 15 Silent Lessons

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That simple turn felt like a tidal wave. For an instant, the rising sun caught his profile, all aristocratic angles, yet beneath the elegance flickered a hint of dangerous beauty; his eyes stayed sharp, frost–cold, unreadable.

There was nowhere to hide on that flat, empty stretch of land. Fiona watched that gaze settle on her, then shut her eyes in surrender.

The wind sliced through her cloak, yet the chill inside her chest cut deeper.

At that moment, it came down to whether Soren would press the issue.

If he wanted to make a big deal out of it, it wouldn’t be a challenging task for the Zonfrillo family. A whispered hint that she had performed as a dancing girl at the party would land her in hot waters, and soon a red bridal palanquin would ferry her through the servants‘ gate as nothing more than a concubine.

Soren’s career, his future marriage–they would

stay

untouched.

Fiona’s life, however, would be ruined, and her status would be lower even than a mistress.

And the matter of Vincent–she would be powerless to help him.

Fiona then quickly thought of an excuse. He was dressed by the time the hoofbeats sounded. My only chance is to insist I have just arrived.

She opened her eyes and steadied the smile on her lips as he drew nearer. “Fancy meeting you the moment I step outside. Lord Soren, are you up so early for your morning ride?”

Despite her bright smile, the tiny tremor in her lashes and the faint pallor in her cheeks betrayed the strain. She even ladled on a touch of helpless sweetness, hoping it might tilt the scales.

One glance was enough; Soren saw straight through the performance. Ms. Fiona, it seems, scatters her charm at anyone within reach, with little regard for propriety between the sexes.

He pitied whichever man finally married her–their marriage bed could well be crowned by jealousy,

Yet he neither wished to wed her nor to break her. He chose silence, offered her only a cool nod, and swung back onto his horse.

Relief loosened the hitch in Fiona’s breath. “There’s frost on the ground this morning,” she said gently. “Mind the slippery patches as you ride, Lord Soren.”

A beauty’s tenderness felt like spring sunlight–but if it surfaced only when there was

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Chapter 15 Silent Lessons

something to gain, it quickly lost its charm.

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Soren’s eyes swept over her once more. “The maid who carried Ms. Wagner’s message has already told me everything.”

The color drained from Fiona’s face, leaving her ashen.

She had suspected he knew of her part in helping Yolanda regarding the performance, but she had never imagined he now possessed hard proof.

Fiona drew a slow, steadying breath, willing her heartbeat to quiet. “Lord Soren, what exactly do you intend?”

Perched high upon the glossy back of his stallion, Soren looked hewn from marble–remote, untouched by anyone else’s concern. “As long as you conduct yourself with perfect obedience, Ms. Fiona, no one will hear about it.”

Fiona needed no explanation; she understood too well that his definition of obedience could shift with his whims. With the proof in his hands, every coming day will move to his command.

Yet at that moment, he owned the winning move, and she had to play the weaker piece. “I understand. Thank you, Lord Soren, for the warning,” she said, bowing her head in reluctant

courtesy.

Soren’s gaze drifted to the fist she kept clenched at her side; a faint curve touched his mouth. So, someone still holds defiance in her heart.

“Plenty of men pass this trail at dawn. If you wish to spare the Niven family any scandal, take another road, Ms. Fiona.” Soren then nudged the horse forward and vanished into the pines.

When Fiona slipped back into the tent, Yolanda noticed the silence before she noticed the pallor. “You left here beaming–why crawl back looking like a wilted bloom?”

“Yolanda, you’ve practically signed my death warrant,” Fiona answered, her smile twisted with

rue,