My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 23

Chapter 23 Steadying The Bow

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Though Fiona’s archery was solid, the final days before evaluation left her too anxious even for pastries.

On the morning itself, she woke in darkness, the sky still charcoal and silent.

She was not the only restless one; every young lady arrived earlier than usual, sleeves fluttering like nervous banners.

“Yolanda, have you heard who will grade us this year?” one girl whispered, tugging at the hem of her sleeve.

The Ministry of Rites oversaw the test, and Yolanda’s father, William, held a post there; having completed her own evaluations, she was the most reliable source of rumor.

“You put me in an awkward spot,” Yolanda laughed softly. “Aside from the minister himself, I doubt anyone knows the examiner’s name.”

Year after year, the crown tightened the rules for both the men’s civil exams and the women’s arts evaluations. A month before the test, the examiner was sequestered, permitted to meet only with the Minister of Rites.

Fiona recalled that the appointed examiner hailed from a distant province and knew none of Jexburgh’s families, making it impossible to hand out favors.

Roxanne and Naomi arrived last; the latter’s wound from the autumn hunt had fully mended.

Fiona could not help but marvel. True talent always saved its entrance for the final beat. She remembered both girls scoring in the top tier last time.

Lots were drawn for order; Fiona pulled number six.

Just before the trial began, someone’s voice rose above the chatter. “Lord Soren has come with Mr. Sunfield to watch!”

The grounds were packed. Even Soren, usually conspicuous, was nowhere to be seen.

When her own turn arrived, Fiona shoved every distraction aside. Ten arrows at moving targets, ten at still ones. Every shaft flew true, quivering in the bull’s–eye. The judges would not release the exact scores until several days hence.

Only then did her heart, wound tight since dawn, finally unclench.

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Chapter 23 Steadying The Bow

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She had performed as she always did, and that alone meant her ranking–whatever it turned out to be–could not fall far.

Gavin tipped his head, a mild smile stirring his neatly trimmed beard. “Is that lady the one His Majesty mentioned–the one shaped by Xavier’s tutelage?”

Soren answered with a soft, noncommittal hum. It fell somewhere between acknowledgment and caution.

Gavin stroked his beard thoughtfully. “From the pattern of her draw and release, she moves more like you.”

Soren rested his fingers against the table’s edge, voice low. “Before the autumn hunt, I slipped back to Jexburgh and looked into it. Not a single spy from Princess Helen was anywhere near my retinue.”

Gavin chuckled, the sound warm. “A resemblance that precise cannot be the fruit of eavesdropping or imitation.”

Soren paused, letting silence speak where words would only speculate.

Gavin continued, “In Naomi and Ms. Thankerton’s archery, I can tell you merely offered guidance; their progress is their own. But with Ms. Fiona’s form, the strength and subtlety feel as though you took her hand and drew each bowstring with her, again and again.”

Such a manner of instruction breached every boundary set between unmarried men and women; only husband and wife could afford that level of closeness.

Soren answered evenly, “I have never shared that sort of contact with Ms. Fiona.”

Gavin accepted the statement without protest; had anything improper existed, the Niven family would already have demanded an explanation.

Gavin shook his head slowly. “Well, it remains a puzzle.”

Identify their purpose, and the mystery of Fiona’s sudden mastery will rise to the surface as well. Soren brushed invisible dust from his sleeve. “Events do not happen of themselves. Someone is behind it, someone a cut above us–for the moment.”

Back in the academy hall, Fiona had scarcely warmed the bench before Naomi concluded her own trial and strode in.

Naomi, usually reserved, offered a bright grin. “Fiona, you were magnificent out there today.”

She had heard tales of the autumn hunt, of Fiona’s duel with Princess Aurora, but skepticism

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Chapter 23 Steadying The Bow

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had lingered. One glimpse of that day’s precision scattered every doubt; among the female competitors, none could match Fiona’s bow,

Fiona inclined her head. “Naomi, could you do me a favor?”

Naomi lifted a brow. “That depends–can I actually manage it?”

“During the autumn hunt. Princess Aurora and I drank too much, Fiona began, sincerity softening her eyes. “I may have offended Lord Soren without realizing it. Could I trouble you to convey my apology to him?”

Naomi burst into airy laughter. “Fiona, Soren isn’t that thin–skinned. Don’t worry about it.”

Easy for you to say. He treasures you above all. He’s not so nice to others. Fiona pressed the matter. “Please, Naomi–you must promise to pass it along.”

Naomi dipped her chin in eager agreement, yet the sparkle in her young eyes betrayed another question swirling inside her. She leaned closer to Fiona and lowered her voice like a conspirator. “Fiona, are you—maybe a little afraid of Soren?”

Fiona was not, in truth, the least bit frightened of Soren. Yet he had seized upon a tiny mistake of hers and wielded it like playful leverage. She chose neither to confirm nor deny Naomi’s suspicion. Instead, an unreadable smile curved at the corner of her mouth before silence claimed her again.

Fiona had, after all, waited outside the academy solely to see Naomi. With her request delivered, she fully intended to slip back to the Niven Estate without further fuss.

Outside the academy, the late–morning bustle still pulsed–students streaming, hawkers shouting, ribbons of dust hanging in the sun. Fiona cast a quick look toward the practice field and, even from a distance, spotted Soren. He was speaking to Gavin, and at his side stood Roxanne, whom he was formally presenting.

Soren, upright and immaculate, looked every inch a noble son. Roxanne, graceful as a spring orchid, lifted her brows like slender wings. Merely by standing together, they seemed born for a harmonious duct.

The carriage driver, reins slack in hand, leaned down to Fiona as voices ebbed around them. “I heard Ms. Roxanne shot brilliantly today,” he uttered, having picked up the news while

ferrying passengers.

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Chapter 24 Autumn Archery Scores

Chapter 24 Autumn Archery Scores