My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 201

Chapter 201 Sickroom Promises

Chapter 201 Sickroom Promises

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Fiona still could not fathom how Isabel had found the cruelty to inflict such harm.

For two full hours she kept watch. Rain tapped the lattice outside, painting the chamber in a hush, while Fiona read by the window, serene as a watercolor come to life.

Even asleep, Fiona never budged; she answered every cry, never once pretending.

“What has that mind of yours wandering?” Fiona asked, noticing the open eyes across the

mattress.

“I was thinking how lucky I am,” Lilith whispered. “Even little Lili has someone to love her,

someone to care.”

Fiona brushed a palm over Lilith’s hair. The younger girl leaned into the touch, rubbing her crown against Fiona’s warm hand like a kitten seeking comfort.

“Fiona,” Lilith whispered, her voice a shaky ribbon of gratitude, “one day I will repay you for this kindness.”

Fiona dropped her hand and asked in a low voice, “What happened this time? Why did she strike you again?”

“Mother went to ask Mdm. Isabel whether she would consent to my being sent to the Wagner family as a concubine. Mdm. Isabel flew into a rage, screaming that I was born low and, like her, would forever stand one step beneath Rita–incapable even of bearing a son without someone conspiring to kill him. I didn’t argue with her about Mother, yet she decided that I had taken Mother’s side.”

It wasn’t the first time things had unfolded this way.

Joanna’s sudden proposal likely sprang from Rita’s long stay in the manor; the longer her daughter lingered, the more threatened she felt, and so she hurried to shore up Rita’s standing.

Sending Lilith to the Wagners as a concubine served that purpose, yet using another girl as a chess piece felt unbearably selfish.

Isabel had always come up short against Joanna, and her daughter had been forced to bow before Rita. The humiliation stung Isabel–not for Lilith’s sake but because her own pride was bruised.

Only a weak–spirited mother vents her anger on her own child.

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Chapter 201 Sickroom Promises

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“If Pearl hadn’t walked in when she did, I dread to think how badly things might have ended,” Fiona murmured, the image of Lili crumpled on the floor still making her heart race.

“W–What has become of Mdm. Isabel?” Lilith asked, her small voice tight with worry.

Fiona hesitated, the words snagging at the edge of her tongue.

She knew Lilith’s heart was tender; the girl still loved the woman who bore her, bruises and all.

That compassion had made Lilith hide the truth today. But if Isabel never learned, someone had to act, or the cycle would repeat.

The problem was thorny. Joanna was eager to punish Isabel, perhaps even exile her, and Fiona -belonging to the second branch–had no right to meddle in main branch matters.

Worse, should Fiona intervene and tragedy follow, gratitude could sour into resentment in Lilith’s heart.

After weighing every angle, Fiona concluded that Joanna must dispense the punishment, though someone would need to slip Isabel a lifeline.

“Aunt Joanna is lady of the house here; now that Mdm. Isabel has erred, she cannot simply overlook it,” Fiona said at last.

“Mother despises Mdm. Isabel and won’t spare her. If Mdm. Isabel is sent to the hillside manor, she’ll never return. I know she did wrong, she should be punished, but out there she might not survive,” Lilith said, tears shining in her eyes.

And if she were murdered in that lonely place, no proof would ever surface.

“Write to Uncle Stanley. He cherishes her; perhaps he can temper the sentence,” Fiona suggested, as though in passing.

Lilith nodded and began drafting the letter at once.

Fiona left her to rest. At the garden gate, one of Joanna’s matrons greeted her with a benign smile. “Ms. Fiona, Mdm. Joanna requests your company.”

Fiona followed the matron to Joanna’s parlor. With Isabel disgraced, Joanna’s delight glimmered in her eyes no matter how she tried to hide it. Isabel had flaunted too much favor; few women could stomach that.

Yet Fiona mused that, were she the principal wife, she would have dismissed such a husband rather than wage petty wars with his favored concubines.

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Chapter 201 Sickroom Promises

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Clearly, Joanna’s invitation held motives far more complicated than a friendly chat.

Fiona needed only a moment to see what was afoot. Joanna clearly hoped to drag the second branch into the uproar, turning each fresh accusation into family warfare.

She could almost hear her aunt reasoning it through. If Stanley suspected discord, he might blame Zachary’s household instead of his beloved wife–an elegant deflection that kept the main branch pristine.

Yet Fiona meant to ride that very current. If she guided Joanna’s hand, Isabel could still be punished, but the stain would never splash back on her own mother.

Joanna glanced up as Fiona crossed the threshold, lamplight gilding the older woman’s composed features. She held out a plate of pastries and asked, “Back from Lili’s rooms already?”

“Exactly so,” Fiona answered, accepting the pastry with a bright, untroubled laugh that sent a ripple of ease through the room.

Joanna exhaled a weary breath. “Lili’s fate has always been bitter. Isabel, though no more than a concubine, treats her like refuse, ignoring both blood ties and the Niven family’s standing. Remember–Lili remains a member of this house. A concubine has no right to erase her. Had we not uncovered the plot in time, the girl would be dead.”

With those words she had stamped Isabel with a charge–attempted murder of a Niven lady. Even an unfulfilled attempt was sufficient grounds to cast the woman from the estate; once the verdict settled, no one would dare reopen the matter.

Fiona only smiled, wide–eyed and guileless, offering no challenge at all.

“Tell me, Fiona–how should I proceed?” Joanna’s tone was soft, but purpose pulsed beneath it.

Joanna’s mind raced behind her calm eyes. Stanley doted on Isabel; if Joanna dealt the punishment herself, resentment would surely follow. But if the idea appeared to come from Zachary’s branch, Stanley’s hands would be tied, and blame would drift elsewhere.

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