My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 262

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Penelope, seeing Victoria’s easy possession of the girl, hesitated. Fiona was, after all, her son’s chosen love and quite possibly her future daughter–in–law. In that moment, the two older women stood like rival mothers–in–law, and Penelope tasted an unexpected sourness.

“Thank you, Mrs. Luthor, but I can purchase it myself,” Fiona said with a gentle smile.

Penelope stepped forward, unwilling to surrender the chance to appear generous. “Expenses at the Luthor Estate run high–I should pay instead,” she insisted, hoping her eagerness might bridge the distance between her son and Fiona.

Yet Victoria sifted through glass pots until she found a shade the color of dawn roses, paid the merchant, and had it wrapped for Fiona before Penelope could object.

“If you ever need more, simply visit the shops and charge it to the Zonfrillo Estate, Fiona,” Penelope suggested, smiling as though the city itself belonged to her.

Victoria’s smile faltered. Her purse could never match the Zonfrillos‘ coffers, yet her affection for Fiona remained undiluted.

“Please, Your Highness, that won’t be necessary. I already have what I need, and Mother will see to the rest,” Fiona replied, her voice careful and kind.

Penelope watched the exchange, each small act of tenderness between Fiona and Victoria pricking her heart like a pin.

Oh, this hurts… My own son can’t compare with Xavier. Even I myself am not as liked by Fiona as Victoria is.

The realization stung all the more when Fiona rose on tiptoe to knead Victoria’s shoulders, a gesture so natural it made Penelope suddenly aware of the emptiness of her own.

Later, when Henrietta asked what kind of young lady pleased her, Penelope lifted her fan and smiled. “I think Ms. Fiona would be ideal.”

She spoke so openly to stake her claim before the Havenford Estate could make a move.

Hillary, who was lingering behind her mother, blanched at the words, the color draining from her face like ink in water.

Henrietta gave her daughter a curious glance and broke into a smile. “Oh? You’ve never mentioned Ms. Fiona before, though. What has you so suddenly taken with her?”

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Chapter 262 Competing Kindnesses

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Penelope kept Soren’s private hopes locked behind a polite smile. After all, a mother could not voice her son’s heart too soon. “In the past, we’ve never spent real time with Ms. Fiona. Now that we have, I see a gracious girl of exactly the right age.”

Most ladies of Soren’s generation had long since been engaged. Those younger would leave too many years between them, and Penelope refused to contemplate such mismatched

unions.

Henrietta, who had grown up beside Penelope, caught the unspoken message at once. “You and I have shared secrets since we were children,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll never compete for anything or anyone that has caught your eye.”

Yet the promise failed to lighten Penelope’s expression. Her mind had already wandered to Xavier, that unpredictable son of the Luthor family whose intentions worried her far more.

When Penelope finally left the room, Henrietta turned to Hillary and sighed, the sound heavy as wet laundry. “Have you given up at last?” she asked.

Hillary’s eyes flew open, disbelief widening them until they shone like startled fawns.

Henrietta lowered her voice, though the truth cut clean as glass. “You are my daughter, so I know every tremor in your heart,” she began. “Soren is almost eight years older, and even the duchess has never considered you. To him, you are a little sister, not a bride.”

I know I sound harsh, but better a sharp truth than a lingering delusion. Otherwise, my child’s unrequited love would eat her from the inside out.

Hillary dropped her head, and tears spattered the embroidered handkerchief in her lap.

“Penelope speaks for Soren,” Henrietta continued. “He has set his eyes on Fiona. She is beautiful, and no man is immune to beauty. Some declare it, others hide it, but the preference is the same.”

“I will never fight Fiona for him“, Hillary finally murmured, the words trembling as hard as her hands.

Henrietta dabbed the tears away and spoke slowly, each syllable a promise of brighter days. “You are still young. Someday, you will find a gentleman who is a better fit for you.”

Hillary nodded, yet the strain of heartbreak settled into her body, and within days, she fell gravely ill.

With Daniel still bedridden and Hillary now feverish, a hush of dread smothered Havenford Estate. Servants tread softly, afraid that any sound might summon worse news.

12:12 Sun, Nov 9

Chapter 262 Competing Kindnesses

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From the Zonfrillo Estate arrived crates of the finest herbs; Penelope spared no expense, as though money alone could push death back across the threshold.

When Fiona came to visit, she found Hillary shockingly thin, drifting in and out of uneasy sleep. Seeing the girl unconscious, Fiona merely tucked the quilt beneath her chin and allowed her fingertips to linger in a brief, silent blessing.

As she turned to leave, a faint murmur fluttered through the room. “Soren…”

Hillary breathed, flushed cheeks vivid against the pillow. Fiona paused at the doorway, eyes darkening with thoughts she did not speak, then slipped out into the corridor.

Henrietta, gaunt from remorse, met her outside and spoke without prelude. “Ms. Fiona, Hillary is still a child. If she has offended you, please, do not hold it against her. Besides, I have already spoken to her. What is yours will remain yours; an ignorant girl like Hillary can never snatch it away from you.”

Over the last few days, Henrietta had pieced together the story from her daughter’s feverish confessions.

Fiona offered a small, inscrutable smile. “Hillary is free to pursue whoever she wishes,” she said. She merely resented hearing Hillary sigh over Soren in her presence, especially after walking in on Soren stealing a kiss from her.

Just as Henrietta was about to reply, Soren appeared.

Fresh from his return to Jexburgh, he wore a black silk jacket patterned with willow tendrils. His stride halted the moment he saw Fiona, and he inclined his head to Henrietta. “Mdm. Yardley,” he greeted, though his peripheral gaze flickered to Fiona again and again, gathering stolen glimpses like a thirsty man catching rain.

Fiona, on the other hand, kept her eyes on the door. “Mdm. Yardley, I shall take my leave,” she announced, never once meeting Soren’s searching stare.