My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 192

192 Chessboard Promises

Chapter 192 Chessboard Promises

81

+5 Free Coins

“Who wouldn’t enjoy something so valuable?” Fiona replied lightly. “Surely even you, Lord Soren, aren’t above a fondness for money.”

Privately she thought that if he dared pretend indifference she would brand him a hypocrite.

Soren pressed his lips together. “I can offer you finer things than that board.”

“Rewards without effort feel wrong,” she answered. “If I accept your gifts, I fear the debt will one day crush me.”

Soren studied her for a long, unhurried moment before saying, “Ask for anything reasonable, and it will be yours.”

Fiona’s smile turned playful, though the barb beneath was sharp. “Then, my lord, might I win this game?”

On another day I would lose ten games for you without protest, Soren replied, tone suddenly cool. “But not today. I dislike watching you accept presents from other men. Whatever they can bestow, I can match–and more.”

Truth be told, Soren had not known Fiona would be among Marcus‘ guests. Strangers seldom crossed the threshold of this quiet estate, so the very fact someone gained entry had hinted at significance.

Ordinarily such social puzzles failed to interest him; he would have ignored the matter entirely.

That indifference shattered the instant he saw Fiona walking toward him.

The surge of displeasure stunned him. Not even military defeat had soured his mood so deeply. He nearly seized her sleeve to demand whether she remembered Marcus was still unmarried–and why she felt compelled to orbit him.

Yet Fiona offered no reply. What she truly desired was something Soren could never grant. At times she even wished him gone from this world; then half the obstacles to avenging her brother would vanish.

Unable to voice such thoughts, she bent closer to the board, every breath devoted to the next move. Better than any gift was the victory she earned with her own hands.

Soren studied her in silence, his dark eyes steady as a still lake, but the faint line between his brows deepened.

1/3

12:08 Mon, Oct 20

Chapter 192 Chessboard Promises

81

+5 Free Coins

“His Majesty did not invite you merely to keep Marcus company. I suspect another intention lurks behind the courtesy.”

Another intention? Of course–he wants me folded neatly into a wedding veil and handed to Marcus. Nothing more, nothing less.

Fiona raised her chin, lips curved in a polite yet unyielding smile.

“You needn’t worry. His Majesty only noticed how lonely the Third Prince has been and sent his cousin to cheer him. You overthink the matter, Lord Soren.”

The conversation stalled. Chill drifted between them like fog over winter water as the chessboard waited, silent witness.

One player’s mind strayed–his earlier moves already flawed. The other focused, determined to seize victory. Given that contrast, the outcome could surprise no one.

Fiona’s fingertips lifted the final piece and set it down with a soft click.

“I win.” Her eyes gleamed with quiet laughter, as though forecasting a future in which this would not be the last thing she took from him.

She had once revered him as flawless marble. Now, beneath her touch, the statue cracked- only a hairline fracture, yet enough to glitter.

Triumph rushed through her like first spring rain after a drought. From that heartbeat on, her future conflicts with him carried the seed of fearless confidence.

Soren shot her a cool, unreadable glance and let the silence answer for him.

Fiona took Lilith’s hand and drifted into the garden paths, sleeves brushing over dewy peonies.

Lilith’s voice wavered. “Lord Soren is angry with you.”

If I can stir his emotions at all, that is profit. Influence equals leverage. He is merely furious that something he considers his has been touched by another.

Lilith glanced behind them. “Fiona, Lord Soren is watching you.” The distant silhouette faced their direction, unmistakable.

Fiona did not spare him a single glance. The jasmine ahead smelled sweeter.

A full hour later, Marcus returned. Seeing the settled board, he laughed in delight. “Fiona, your skill is impressive. The board and these pieces are yours.”

7

2/3

12:08 Mon, Oct 20

Chapter 192 Chessboard Promises

:

81

+5 Free Coins

The pieces were carved from midnight obsidian and milk–white marble, each polished to moonlit shine. Marcus, who rarely yielded anything, was giving away a treasure with quiet reluctance.

Soren rose, smoothing his sleeves. “It grows late. I will return to the estate.” His tone remained even, almost bored.

Fiona watched his retreating back, then turned to Marcus. “Your Highness, the gift is far too costly. You are still unmarried; should anyone notice, the gesture would invite speculation I do not wish upon you.”

She had no wish to truly offend Soren–not yet. Winning proved her mettle; the board had never been the prize.

Soren paused midway across the veranda and glanced back.

Fiona, still facing Marcus with a bright smile, continued speaking, yet Soren understood every syllable had been aimed at him.

Marcus nodded. “Fiona speaks wisely. I shall keep the board myself.”

Only then did Fiona look at him, her smile soft enough to charm sparrows from branches.

Outwardly Soren’s face stayed placid, but inside, waves crashed against cliffs. Fiona’s calculated advance and retreat had been a deliberate tug at his heartstrings.

She was soothing him even as she tested how tight a grip she could take.

Yes, her insistence on winning had annoyed him. Yet her refusal of Marcus‘ gift–so pointedly offered in his presence–stroked his ego, and he felt an unwelcome flush of satisfaction.

Soren was never a man incapable of being maneuvered; he merely refused to allow it while the woman standing opposite him was not yet his wife.

Anything less, to his mind, reeked of calculation.

Slowly, like shutters descending over a pair of bright shopwindows at dusk, every trace of feeling slipped from his face until nothing readable remained.

Fiona sensed the chill in the room and wasted no time. After offering Marcus a brief, flawless farewell, she took Lilith by the hand and headed for the door, her pace brisk, her back unbending.