My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 228

Chapter 228 Hidden Currents

Chapter 228 Hidden Currents

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A shiver traveled down Fiona’s spine. Instinct whispered that Marcus’ cryptic warning tied directly to the near-disaster Alexander would soon face.

But to what end did the Third Prince share it with her? Information was his currency; spent it without expecting a return.

Without another word Marcus strode away, not granting Cecilia so much as a farewell glance. Something inside Fiona pinched at the sight; her cousin’s forced smile looked brittle as shell- thin porcelain.

“Ladies, please come in and wait. The Divine Doctor will see you shortly,” Thomas said, ushering them toward the wooden door.

Inside the lamplit cabin Cecilia removed her travel cloak and conical hat. Despite the bright curve of her smile, a dusting of red welts mottled her cheeks and brow.

The sadness in her eyes lingered like smoke after a candle is blown out.

“He’s every bit as cold as ever,” Cecilia murmured, half laughing, half sighing.

Fiona wondered whether to reveal that Marcus had recognized her but chosen to pretend otherwise, calculating to the last detail.

From deeper inside, Morgan’s even baritone floated through the timber walls. “Enter.”

Fiona guided Cecilia through the threshold. Morgan lifted his gaze long enough to register the newcomer, then lowered it to the instruments laid neatly beside the daybed.

Cecilia hesitated, drew a steadying breath, then let a soft greeting spill forth. “Dr. Murren.”

Morgan’s dark eyes held hers for a beat longer than strictly professional. “Come closer,” he instructed.

Taking the hint, Fiona slipped back outside, the door’s quiet thud sealing the room-and whatever words it would soon contain-behind her.

Cecilia stepped to the examination stool and offered her wrist. As Morgan’s fingers settled over her pulse, she leaned in, studying the concentration etched along his brow.

Morgan did not so much as twitch. The lanternlight carved his profile in quiet bronze while Cecilia, trembling yet bold, lifted herself like a dragonfly skimming a moonlit pond and let her mouth graze his-no more than the whisper of a kiss.

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Chapter 228 Hidden Currents.

“Ms. Cecilia, please. Do not step beyond what was never meant to be crossed.”

“I… I never thought you were-”

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He cut her short with a single, steady look. The words dissolved in her throat, leaving only the throb of her pulse.

“Tell me, Ms. Cecilia, whom did you believe I was?”

The answer rolled across her tongue, a forbidden name that refused to leave her lips. She faltered, eyes shining with the ache of memory.

“There is something about you-so unbearably familiar,” she whispered, smiling through gathering tears. “Familiar enough to make my heart hurt.”

The instant the first tear broke free, Morgan’s thumb moved. He brushed the droplet aside- tender, detached, almost surgical-then let his hand fall. Pity shimmered in his distant

gaze, and cold, the gaze of a god studying fragile mortals. In that impossible stillness he looked uncannily like Marcus, aloof and untouchable above human longing.

“I—” She reached for words she could not grasp.

“Ms. Fiona,” Morgan called, his voice a calm summons that sliced cleanly through the tension.

Cecilia stiffened, caught between breath and silence.

When Fiona returned, Cecilia had pulled a wide-brimmed traveling hat low over her brow and now sat primly opposite Morgan, hands folded, her silence heavy as dusk.

“Cold poison has reached her heart, but it is not fatal. She needs rest, not roads and wagons,” Morgan said.

“So the one who dosed her never meant to kill,” Fiona murmured after a thoughtful pause.

“You may interpret it that way.”

A potion meant to weaken, not to end a life-then why administer it at all?

“My granny intends for Cecilia to stay here. We must rely on you, Dr. Murren, for the time being,” Fiona said.

“Inside these walls I keep no Cecilia Montclare-only a merchant girl named Cierra who buys my teas,” Morgan replied.

Fiona’s heart lurched, as though someone had yanked a hidden thread.

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11:13 Wed, Oct 22

Chapter 228 Hidden Currents

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In the last life, when the Princess Royal’s Estate fell, Cecilia vanished-first sheltered by Zephyr, then discarded to the barracks, and at last lost to rumor. Marcus never married. Yet at each festival a veiled maid named Cierra appeared in his stead, bearing gifts for the Zonfrillo Estate. Her face was ruined, her voice forever hoarse; she rarely stepped beyond the palace gates.

So the missing Cecilia had been beside Marcus all along? And each quiet visit to our estate-had she come only to glimpse me, because, after the Princess Royal fell, I was one of the few kin he had left?

Lady Fiona, you must cherish your health, that same veiled girl had once dared to tell me, breaking every rule of rank and distance.

Only now do I understand why her words trembled with such fierce concern.

Only later did Fiona understand the tenderness threaded through those words, a gentleness she had failed to read at first glance.

It had been Cecilia all along.

Cecilia’s fingers caught the edge of Fiona’s sleeve and gave the lightest tug, as if afraid even that small gesture might shatter the moment. “Fiona.” Her voice was no louder than a breath, yet it anchored the swirl of memories around them.

Fiona blinked, reality sliding back into place. For a heartbeat, the Cecilia who stood before her overlapped with Cierra, the girl she had known in another lifetime-two shadows converging into one.

Marcus’ devotion suddenly seemed vast as the sky. If anyone discovered he had concealed a fugitive and granted her a new name, his title as Third Prince would be nothing but a glass crown waiting to crack.

“Ms. Cierra, could I trouble you for some fresh tea as well? I’d like to bring a few tins home,” Fiona added the request with an easy smile. She needed an excuse for every visit, and tea was as innocuous a reason as any.

Cecilia dipped her head. “I’ll see to it right away.”

Turning to Morgan, who rested behind his lacquered table, Fiona spoke with soft formality. “There’s a matter I’d like your guidance on, Divine Doctor.”

“Ask whatever you wish,” Morgan replied, his tone as calm as still water.

“To be frank,” Fiona began, “Amber Room has begun shipping to Brorchester. I need to know how much raw material is consumed to fill a standard wagon with Purifying Cream.”

“Ingredients alone aren’t the whole story,” Morgan said. “Some compounds demand time as

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Chapter 228 Hidden Currents

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well as coin. Take Essencia Extract-with a hundred workers, ten days’ labor yields barely one wagon. Patience is part of the recipe.”

Fiona tucked the figures away in her mind. When she finally rose to leave, she glanced back. Morgan had not shifted so much as an inch, seated as motionless as a stone sentinel.

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