My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 198

Chapter 198 Lingering Tensions

Fiona said nothing more.

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“I looked over Naomi’s examination papers,” Soren remarked, voice mild. “Given your quick mind–and after studying that mathematics summary she carries–I assumed you, too, would claim first place this round.”

“Mathematics has never come easily to me,” Fiona admitted, forcing a courteous smile.

“Naomi’s notebook–and your careful work inside it–helped tremendously. I am truly grateful, Lord Soren.”

Soren’s dark eyes held hers. “So you did notice how much care I invested in that compilation.” The words remained even, yet the unspoken censure–her failure to remember his kindness- hung between them like fog.

Others heard only polite conversation. Fiona, however, felt every syllable land as a quiet indictment, laced with a sarcasm so fine only she could taste it.

Back then, he was cautious, almost impatient. He must have already resolved to sever all ties with me, she realized, throat tightening.

Meryl, eager to mend the awkward pause, inquired about the booklet’s origins. Learning that Soren himself had prepared it, she showered both the young lord and Naomi with heartfelt thanks.

“No need for gratitude, Mdm. Meryl,” Soren replied, tone as level as still water.

He paused–clearly about to admonish Fiona for the missing cloak–when Xavier strode in, crisp boots announcing him. “Ms. Fiona, you should fetch a cloak,” he said gently. “The cold will catch you unawares.”

Soren’s gaze flicked to Xavier, unreadable.

“Trust Xavier to notice what the rest of us missed,” Meryl said, her concern doubling as subtle rebuke. “Did you truly leave the house so lightly dressed? Go–quickly–put something

warmer on,”

Grateful for the lifeline, Fiona offered Xavier a silent nod of thanks. “I will return shortly,” she murmured, slipping from the room.

“Ever the considerate one,” Hannah observed, admiration warming her weathered features.

“Exactly,” Meryl agreed, shooting her son an exasperated look. “Vincent, as the elder brother,

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12:09 Mon, Oct 20

Chapter 198 Lingering Tensions

you could learn a thing or two about paying attention.”

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Vincent’s smile was polite and slender, but his eyes kept drifting to some private horizon. Whatever reply he might have given stayed behind his teeth, preserved by a thin curve of lips. that hinted at unspoken concern.

“I merely happened to be outside and exchanged a few words with Ms. Fiona,” Xavier said, voice level, shoulders loose, as though the subject deserved neither pride nor apology.

Throughout the entire Niven Estate, Xavier’s name carried an easy warmth. Servants and elders alike spoke of him with respect that bordered on familial affection. Anyone hoping to edge him out one day would find that task anything but simple.

Soren pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, as though the gesture might scatter a gathering headache.

Just then Theodore, Elijah’s firstborn, woke with a drowsy whimper. The nurse brought the toddler forward, and Elijah’s stern features melted. He took the child into his own arms, voice dropping to a murmur only father and son could hear.

Rita stole a glance at Soren. She wondered what sort of parent this implacable young lord would become. Would he stand over a child the way Alexander had once towered over him- unyielding and exacting–or would he learn the gentler art of indulgence?

Judging by the line of his jaw, tenderness seemed a distant country. Duty, she thought, would be the flag Soren chose to raise in his household.

Later, while Elijah attempted small talk about estates and tariffs, Rita noticed Soren’s eyes turning glassy. The conversation skimmed past him like rain off slate; the usual spark of curiosity was simply missing.

“Why hasn’t Fiona come back yet?” Hannah asked, her mild impatience filling the room the way a clock fills silence with ticking.

At the sound of Fiona’s name, a dull ache flowered under Soren’s ribs. He remembered, far too vividly, the moment she had called Xavier “Hubby.”

Perhaps what I feel is jealousy. No–certainty. I cannot accept Fiona belonging to anyone else. Even seeing her stand too close to another man feels wrong.

He lifted his gaze and met Xavier’s eyes head–on. Neither blinked. For an instant the air between them felt metallic, bright and thin.

Xavier’s calm appeared to originate in his bones. The memory of his earlier promise-“She will return to my side, no matter what“-echoed in Soren’s ears.

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Chapter 198 Lingering Tensions

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If it had been simple provocation, Soren could have dismissed it. Yet Xavier spoke with the quiet conviction of a rightful husband. That serene confidence chafed more than open challenge ever could.

Soren looked away, forced the swirl of feeling back into its cage, and took a measured swallow of the harsh liquor before him.

Because etiquette demanded it, the Niven family refused to let their honored guest lapse into neglect. Joanna, mindful of alliances between branches, offered a careful smile. “Perhaps this wine is not to Lord Soren’s liking?” she asked.

“It serves well enough,” Soren replied, one finger tracing the rim of his cup. The politeness in his tone was immaculate; the distance, unmistakable.

“If only Ully were home,” Joanna added. “He would have joined you for a companionable drink

or two.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself,” Soren answered, patience stretched but intact. “We still have business to discuss, and heavy drink would only dull the mind.”

Fearing his mother–in–law’s overtures might wear thin, Elijah hurried in with a rescue. “Then perhaps Lord Soren and I should return to the Wagner residence now and address those matters in private?”

“The Zonfrillo Estate’s gift for Ms. Fiona will arrive shortly,” Soren said. “Better we remain a moment longer.”

Elijah reconsidered and nodded. Soren was nothing if not thorough with ceremony; having come to the Niven family, he would see every courtesy properly concluded. Elijah settled back into his seat, resigning himself to the wait.

The parlor should have felt comfortably familiar–the velvet hush of afternoon light, the faint sweetness of Earl Grey tea drifting from a porcelain pot–but the moment Soren settled into a chair, an invisible weight dropped over the room.

Xavier’s temperament was an open book to the Niven family by now; they had laughed with him, argued with him, and learned every gentle corner of his character. Soren, however, remained the honored guest whose silence demanded courtesy. Every word had to be measured, every smile carefully shaped so as not to trespass upon his calm, statuesque

composure.

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