My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 271

r 271 Confessions Beneath Autumn Skies

As the two spoke, Hillary strode up, her quiver bouncing against her shoulder. “Fiona, Mr. Xavier–what were you talking about?”

Hillary studied Xavier. He was tall, almost imposing, the light carving sharp shadows along his straight posture. She had exchanged a few words with him on the ride back to Jexburgh; he had answered politely enough, yet a cool distance hung between them like glass.

Fiona answered quickly, tone casual yet clear. “Prince Zephyr was injured, so we returned with the Royal Guard.”

Hillary, too, had skipped the autumn hunt, choosing instead to hone her archery. She still carried the crisp scent of fletching glue

and cedar shafts.

In any case, the young lady seemed determined to earn the coveted title of Lady Laureate; every arrow she loosed was another step toward that goal.

“How serious are his wounds?” she asked, brows knitting. His Majesty had meant Zephyr to tutor her; no wonder he had failed to

appear.

“The royal physician said his life is not in danger,” Fiona assured her.

Relief softened Hillary’s features. Both the Havenford and Zonfrillo Estates stood behind the Sixth Prince, and she could not bear the thought of disaster striking him.

Her gaze slid back to Xavier. The silent authority in his bearing made her almost shy. She longed to ask for lessons, yet the words shrank at her lips.

News of Zephyr’s injury folded the autumn hunt like damaged tents, ending the festivities in a hush.

Zephyr drifted through darkness for two full days. When his eyes finally focused, Emperor Aldric sat on a low dais nearby, boots still dusty from the journey. At the bedside, Claudia’s eyes were swollen from weeping, her silk sleeves stained with tears.

Marcus, however, lounged farther back, expression placid, as though the moment held no weight. His brother’s injury stirred no visible worry in him.

Zephyr scarcely spared the aloof prince a thought; in his mind, Marcus had long since become irrelevant.

Claudia leaned in, voice thick with tenderness. “At last, you are awake. Had I known the outing was so dangerous, I would never have let you leave Jexburgh. Thank heavens your life was spared—one more slip and chaos would have erupted.”

Emperor Aldric flicked his sleeve and murmured, “All of you, out.” The words were gentle, yet they rolled through the audience hall like distant thunder.

At once, Claudia dipped into a silken curtsy. Sensing the storm behind the emperor’s calm, she withdrew without another breath.

Seeing the pensive lines gather on his father’s brow, Zephyr felt an unfamiliar prickle of anxiety crawl up his spine; the Sixth Prince feared nothing on earth–except stumbling beneath that royal gaze.

Emperor Aldric raised a porcelain cup to his lips, eyes clouded, yet voice mild. “Tell me, why did you send your attendants away?”

“I was pursuing game, Father. I feared the clatter of boots would spook the quarry, and–well–I acted in haste.”

Aldric’s smile remained, but his eyes narrowed to knives. “Were you truly hunting animals, or was your hunt aimed elsewhere?”

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Chapter 271 Confessions Beneath Autumn Skies

Cold sweat broke across Zephyr’s back, soaking the bandage beneath his hunting robe.

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“A man born to rule who cannot curb his appetite for women is doomed to folly,” Aldric added, the chill in his laugh making the air brittle

Zephyr hesitated only a heartbeat, then–despite the pain streaking through his ribs–he sank to his knees on the polished tiles. “Father, if it pleases you, allow me to wed Ms. Fiona. She is attentive beyond measure, and I… I have grown fond of her.”

Aldric folded his hands behind his back. “If you desire her, prove yourself. Zachary’s merits stand tall, and I will not meddle in the Niven family’s plans.”

Zephyr let his father’s veiled phrases settle over him like falling ash. Beneath the polite cadence, he caught a pulse of conspiracy, quick and steady, as if a hidden drum were announcing the next move at court.

For years, Emperor Aldric had kept Zachary sidelined. Princess Helen’s shadow clung to the man, and the palace feared that any elevation would leave room for a secret liaison, so resistance greeted Zachary at every doorway.

Now the princess lay powerless, her standards lowered, her partisans scattered. With the storm around her finally spent, Emperor Aldric could at last draw Zachary back into the circle of true authority.

If Zephyr married Fiona, the profit would far exceed his earlier calculations, like discovering a hidden treasury behind a modest wooden chest.

Now, Emperor Aldric’s meaning gleamed unmistakably: succeed in arranging the union, and he would turn a tolerant eye, ignoring whatever minor breaches might follow.

Could it be that Father now favors me above the others? The notion flickered through Zephyr’s thoughts, sharp as the first spark struck against flint.

“I know what to do, Father.” Zephyr suppressed the throb in his bruised ribs, lowered himself to the polished floor, and touched his forehead to the tiles in a formal bow.

Aldric rose, robes whispering. “Rest now. Your wound needs time.”

In the outer hall, Marcus, leaning on an ebony crutch, straightened the moment the emperor appeared.

Aldric lifted a hand. “Remain seated, my son. There’s no need for this ceremony between us.”

Marcus, however, stayed upright, silent resolve etched on his pallid features.

Aldric sighed. “Very well, then walk with me.”

Marcus adjusted his pace and limped beside the drifting royal silks.

Glancing sideways, Aldric studied the son who mirrored him most–same high brow, same steady eyes–and a brief sorrow flickered across the emperor’s gaze.

“I chide Zephyr for drowning in women and lament that you keep none,” Aldric said into the quiet corridor. “I long to hold a grandson who carries my features.”

“With a husband like me, a woman gains only a burden,” Marcus answered, voice as even as carved stone.

A flare of impatience instantly crossed Aldric’s face. “You are my son. Who would dare call you a burden?”

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2:07 pm

Chapter 271 Confessions Beneath Autumn Skies

Marcus offered no reply–no flattery, no thanks–only the hollow tap of his cane on the marble.

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Aldric exhaled, shoulders heavy. “My strength wanes. I wish to set your futures in order before the sands run out, yet you two test my heart at every turn.”

Behind them, Everett, the gray–haired eunuch, cast Marcus a quiet, knowing glance.

Marcus stood as immovable as a marble colossus beneath the vaulted ceiling. Not a single lash flickered when he finally spoke, his voice precise, even cold. “Zephyr’s marriage has already been secured.”

Across from him, Emperor Aldric let out a low, contempt–laden scoff. “We shall see about that.”

Later, when Marcus re–entered the dim hush of the sleeping palace, he found Claudia’s porcelain face tight with displeasure, while Zephyr lingered nearby, eyes lowered, lost in thoughts no one else was permitted to read.

Claudia drew a slow breath, then murmured, “So it seems we owe this narrow escape to Fiona’s quick eyes and quicker mind.”

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