My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 162

Chapter 162 Plots On Tranquil Waters

Chapter 162 Plots On Tranquil Waters

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Truth be told, Harriet wanted to see Vincent more than she wanted to advertise her restaurant. She could not guess how far he would keep running, but running would help him little. If persuasion failed, she would simply need subtler means.

Fiona flashed a sugary smile, eyes crinkling like sunlit water. “He will come, I promise.” She would coax her elusive brother there even if it meant a harmless little lie.

The two young women exchanged a knowing look that needed no words. Harriet breathed easier; a merchant’s daughter marrying into a noble house was difficult enough, and her own control of the Fuller family business made society frown even harder.

A hush settled over the boat. Harriet, Fiona, and Yolanda sat at the bow, sipping pale Earl Grey tea while a mild spring breeze ruffled the lake. The silence felt cleansing, as though the wind itself had washed every worry away.

From the arching bridge nearby, Isabella tugged at Soren’s sleeve and whispered, “Lord Soren, isn’t that Ms. Fuller? I met her a few days ago—her businesses are everywhere in Jexburgh, and she arranged yesterday’s pleasure boat for us.”

Fiona instinctively turned. On the bridge stood Lord Soren, sharp as a blade in slate–blue robes, and beside him Isabella, gentle and poised. Together, they looked strikingly well matched, like ink and silk in perfect balance.

All three women on the boat rose in unison, bowing with the polished precision society demanded.

Soren’s eyes flickered toward the simple wooden hairpin in Fiona’s dark hair, then slid away. He returned their greeting with chilly courtesy and led Isabella toward another path without lingering.

Yolanda let out a soft laugh, folding her fan. “Penelope’s judgment is excellent. Lord Soren is usually the picture of restraint–this is the first time I’ve ever seen him escort a lady for leisure,”

Harriet caught Fiona’s eye. If only they knew how often Lord Soren forgets his own rules in private. The thought stayed unspoken, curling like smoke behind her composed smile.

Harriet’s attention returned to the unadorned hairpin. “That wooden pin of yours is quite unique, Fiona. Where did you find it?”

Fiona answered without flinching. “Mr. Xavier gave it to me.”

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Chapter 162 Plots On Tranquil Waters

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Harriet hesitated, recalling the priceless ivory tulip hairpin she had once offered–returned to her unopened. A faint puzzle tightened her brow. Even the finest ivory tulip lost out… but to what?

Noticing Soren’s far–away stare, Isabella asked gently, “What occupies you, Lord Soren?”

He did not answer. His silence felt heavier than iron.

Isabella stepped closer, voice soft but insistent. “You will be my husband someday. Shouldn’t I know what weighs on your mind?”

Soren’s reply came cool and measured. “I told you before, Isabella, today’s outing is nothing more than my duty as host.”

Isabella’s confidence did not waver. “Penelope favors me, and I find you most agreeable. Our marriage will encounter no obstacles.” She had grown up adored; why should Soren prove an exception?

In that airy assurance, she left Soren’s own wishes completely unconsidered.

Soren inclined his head just enough to be polite. “I have matters to attend. Naomi will accompany you shortly.” With Isabella’s tactless certainty still hanging in the air, he withdrew before courtesy turned to irritation.

Isabella’s voice trembled, sweet yet insistent. “But I want you to stay with me,” she said, gazing up at his face with a determination that belied the soft curve of her lips.

It did not matter how earnestly Isabella pleaded. The moment Naomi stepped into the courtyard, Soren gathered his composure like a cloak around his shoulders and rose to leave. Swinging into the saddle outside the gates, he nearly collided with Fiona and Yolanda, who were climbing into a lacquered carriage. Fiona’s gaze brushed over him–clear, unmistakable -yet she looked away as though he were invisible. A beat of silence cracked inside his chest. Without another word, Soren turned his horse toward the Zonfrillo Estate, the afternoon sun throwing a long, solitary shadow at his back.

The campaign in Broadmoor was drawing to its weary close, and Callum had been ordered north for a final inspection. After the brothers finished discussing supply lines and troop rotations, he let his tone slip into something more personal. “A few days ago, over at the Luthor Estate,” Callum said, fingers drumming the arm of his chair, “I happened to run into Ms. Fiona.” The sentence was simple, but the storm behind his eyes was anything but. “I wonder,” he added quietly, “whether her arrangement with Xavier is already all but settled.” If Xavier had not reached her first, Callum knew he would never have surrendered so easily. That truth tasted like iron between his teeth.

Soren listened in silence, expression carved from stone. When the quiet grew too heavy, Callum let the subject drop, sensing the unspoken refusal.

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12.08 Fri, Oct 17

Chapter 162 Plots On Tranquil Waters

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Broadmoor’s supply wagons were still lost on the roads, and exhaustion had become Soren’s most faithful companion. After several sleepless nights, he finally collapsed into bed and slept until dusk painted the windows violet.

He dreamed. In the glow of oil lamps, Fiona sat in his private chamber, a silk–bound book open upon her knees. When she saw him stir, her smile blossomed like spring. “Hubby, you’re awake at last,” she said, setting the volume aside, “You slept so long today–traveling back from Broadmoor must have worn you out.”

He rose and pulled her into his arms. Holding her against his chest, Soren whispered, “I’m the only husband you have, aren’t I? Xavier is not,”

“Of course it’s you,” Fiona answered, voice soft as falling snow.

Yet the question slipped out of him, raw and desperate. “Then why are you so close to him and hiding from me?” He sounded like a man already abandoned, grasping for any comfort she might offer.

Soren woke with a pounding head. He rubbed his temples, rose from the tangled sheets, and swallowed a cup of lukewarm tea that tasted faintly of ash. Crossing the courtyard to the front hall, he found Penelope already waiting, jeweled rings flashing as she folded her hands. “It seems Ms. Fiona is about to marry into the Luthor family,” she observed. “Since Xavier assists. you, shouldn’t we show a little courtesy to the Nivens from now on?”

Soren paused, voice barely steady. “Is it confirmed?”

“Judging by the attitudes of both households, I’d say there’s no mistake,” Penelope replied. “With Fiona aligned to Xavier, I can stop worrying she’ll pine after you.”

Soren’s answer was flat. “Mother, you needn’t regard her with such hostility.” Before Penelope could respond, he stood, the chair scraping sharply against the floor, and strode away. The air he left behind seemed colder, and she stared after him, startled by the darkness in his demeanor.