My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 22

Chapter 22 Family Calculations

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Joanna’s smile warmed in honest pride; to a mother, her own daughter would always be a jewel. She saw plainly the schemes turning in Hannah’s mind, yet she doubted that the Zonfrillo family, having declined Rita, would ever choose Fiona instead.

Still, if they did, the main branch would benefit. Only–Joanna was certain–Fiona could never tame Soren. Within half a year, his household would likely teem with fresh concubines.

That evening, the main and second branches enjoyed a rare reunion, the dining hall alive with clinking cups and overlapping laughter.

When the meal concluded, Hannah waved her gnarled hand like a magistrate dismissing a court. “Stanley, Fiona, you have only just returned. You all should go home and rest.”

Outside Ambrosial Garden’s moon–lit gate, the two brothers paused for a brief farewell, autumn mist curling around their boots.

Joanna hurried beside Stanley, her tone syrup–sweet. “Stanley, I have a pot of broth warming in my chambers–it should be perfect just about now.”

Stanley barely slowed, eyes fixed on the shadowed path ahead. “I’ve no appetite tonight. Go on back. I’m paying Isabel a visit.”

With that, he spun on his heel and strode away, his cloak fluttering behind him like a banner of quiet defiance.

Joanna’s smile froze, an unfinished curve stiffening on wax–pale lips. Fingertips brushed the face that had once turned heads, and in their cool tracing, her eyes hardened. Isabel keeps flaunting herself as though the ancient order between wife and concubine has been erased.

Elsewhere, Meryl and Zachary walked shoulder to shoulder along the pebbled path. The hush between them stretched so thin it felt ready to tear.

More than once, Zachary’s gaze slid sideways, lingering on his wife’s profile the way a penitent

studies a saint.

“Mother, Father misses you terribly,” Fiona said, pitching her voice between coaxing and plea, “Claiming he wished to see me was a ruse. All along, he just wanted an excuse to see you.”

“Your father misses no one, Meryl replied, arching an elegant brow. “If anything, he is already weary of a wife whose years are showing”

“I never-” Zachary began, his protest tumbling out before he could tame it.

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14:41 Fri, Oct 10

Chapter 22 Family Calculations

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“Shall I procure yet another concubine for you?” Meryl went on, her tone smooth as lacquer yet sharp enough to draw blood.

“I was wrong,” Zachary said, voice trembling. “Nothing ever happened with Eleanor. I only thought that I’d quietly dismiss her after Mother’s passing, sparing you and keeping Mother from heartbreak.”

“And if it happens again?” Meryl asked, her gaze steady as winter water.

Eleanor had almost cost Fiona her life. By then, Zachary knew better than to keep any woman, however innocent, at his side.

“There will never be a next time,” he vowed. “If Mother urges me again, I simply will not step into Ambrosial Garden until she relents.”

His greatest failing, Fiona reflected, was a tenderness toward Hannah so absolute that her slightest discomfort became law, and in the shadow of that devotion, Meryl had suffered for

years.

Still, if he was willing to change, forgiveness was possible.

Fiona tugged at Meryl’s sleeve, whispering, “Mother.”

Meryl let the quarrel drop. She had secured the promise she wanted; to press further would only drive her husband away again.

When they reached Lily Garden, Zachary was no longer barred from the gate. After four months, he stepped once again into his wife’s chambers.

Only then did Fiona allow herself to breathe.

For the next three days, Zachary emerged each dawn from Meryl’s rooms, hair askew yet face alight. Even his return from court grew earlier, as though gravity itself now pulled him home.

On the fourth morning, an imperial edict arrived, sending Zachary south to Yarburn on official business.

“Now we can speak freely,” Fiona said to Meryl after the servants withdrew. “His Majesty brought up Granny. He knows perfectly well, yet he insists I address him as Uncle Aldric.”

“His Majesty disapproves of your granny,” Meryl said with a dismissive wave. “If he says ‘Uncle Aldric, it need not trouble you

Fiona understood. The address was a showpiece, a public gesture meant to broadcast Emperor Aldric’s magnanimity.

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Chapter 22 Family Calculations.

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“Still, I fear for the Princess Royal’s family,” Fiona murmured. “Please write Granny a letter, Mother. Clear words can only help.”

“Then I shall do as you say,” Meryl answered after a thoughtful pause.

Meryl’s brush moved with a restraint that still sliced the page like a thin blade. Fiona had studied every stroke since childhood, and over time, their scripts had begun to echo one another.

“Mother, could you also send Granny my regards?” Fiona asked.

“Have you already forgotten what your grandmother warned you about?” Meryl asked, her voice gentle yet edged with caution.

Years ago, Emperor Aldric had nursed more than one lethal thought toward Helen. To keep the family clear of the fallout, Hannah insisted that Fiona and Vincent distance themselves from the Princess Royal’s family.

What began as a childhood rule, enforced by miles of road, hardened into polite formality even after the siblings were grown.

Meryl and Helen had accepted the necessity, yet the concession still left a bruise on the heart.

Fiona then explained, “Mother, Granny and I may not visit, yet His Majesty still mentioned her when he spoke of me. If he ever wished to find fault, even the thinnest thread between us would be enough—”

“Not another word against His Majesty, at least not where ears might listen.” Meryl cut in, brow knitting.

Fiona stopped short. She knew the remark had crossed a line and let the matter drop.

After a moment, Meryl’s expression softened. “Your granny will be delighted.”

Yondale lay far from Jexburgh; more than a month had passed, and still no letter had come back from Helen. The notice for Fiona’s archery evaluation, however, arrived right on schedule.

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