Soren continues to rely on his family name to justify his decisions, maintaining a cold and calculated facade of loyalty toward Alexander and Tristan. His engagement to Fiona, however, is less strategic and more a twist of fate. When he unexpectedly sees Zephyr pressing Fiona against a garden wall, memories of Fiona caring for his wounds flood back, stirring conflicted emotions within him. Despite expecting Fiona to resist Zephyr, she allows herself to be led away, leaving Soren distant and restrained.
Later, Soren confronts Fiona about marrying Zephyr, to which she quietly denies any desire to do so. When Meryl, Fiona’s mother, arrives pleading for a marriage to protect her daughter from Zephyr’s relentless pressure, Soren initially refuses but eventually agrees. His decision is driven not only by the need for an heir but also by a desire to protect Fiona, repaying her for saving his life and shielding her from Zephyr’s ambitions.
On their wedding day, Fiona looks stunning in crimson silk, and Soren feels a stirring desire despite his usual cold demeanor. However, Zephyr crashes the celebration, boasting about his past with Fiona and claiming she liked him but married Soren out of fear. This revelation shatters the fragile tenderness Soren had begun to feel. The wedding night passes without intimacy, and Fiona is often found in Zephyr’s company, while Soren is consumed by his duties.
One afternoon, Fiona approaches Soren with the gift of Glowstrike, a prized bow, asking him to visit her room that night. Though Soren is initially indifferent to the weapon, her gesture pleases him deeply. That night, in a quiet and tentative moment, they share an intimate connection marked by a sober pity rather than love. Following this, Soren begins teaching Fiona mounted archery, discovering patience and a new sense of closeness as they bond through shared lessons and silent struggles.
Chapter 291: Hidden Regrets
Soren still relied heavily on the family’s name to justify every decision he made. He never outright denied his heritage; instead, he extended just enough civility toward Alexander and Tristan to maintain a facade of respectability. In truth, it was a cold calculation—profit and loss disguised as loyalty.
His engagement to Fiona, however, was less a strategic move and more a twist of fate, born from a collision of timing and circumstance.
Once, by chance, Soren stumbled upon Zephyr pressing Fiona against a garden wall. Their bodies were dangerously close, her palms splayed against his chest, cheeks flushed with a rosy hue reminiscent of ripe summer peaches. The sight pulled Soren back to a memory—the night Fiona had tended to him, stripping away his bloodied clothes and gently applying balm to his wounded chest with those same delicate hands.
A sudden, inexplicable flutter stirred in Soren’s chest. He rooted himself to the spot, forcing his gaze to linger on the unfolding scene, despite the bitter ache it brought. Initially, he had expected Fiona to resist—to refuse Zephyr’s advances with a sharp word or even a slap. Yet, though her eyes glistened with unshed tears, she allowed Zephyr to lead her away. Was it a reluctant surrender, a silent protest, or something far more complicated? Soren remained distant, his muscles taut but unmoving, choosing restraint over confrontation.
Later that evening, beneath the soft glow of the moonlight in the pavilion at the Zonfrillo Estate, Soren found Fiona sitting alone. Her posture was stiff as she leaned against the painted lattice. “Do you want to marry Zephyr?” he asked abruptly, the question escaping before he could second-guess himself.
Her lashes fluttered, shimmering with tears. “I don’t,” she whispered, barely audible.
Soren found the exchange distasteful, offering only a noncommittal hum before turning away. His boots echoed sharply against the flagstones as he walked off.
Weeks passed before Meryl arrived at his gate, cloaked formally, seeking a marriage to protect her daughter. Soren refused her request the first time. But on her second visit, her dignified composure crumbled, tears streaming down her cheeks as she spoke of Zephyr’s relentless pressure and her fear that Fiona might not survive the winter.
The notion of Zephyr securing Prince Jinks’ support filled Soren with loathing. Fiona had once saved his life, and though marriage was merely a transactional contract to him, he felt compelled to protect her. After careful consideration, he granted Meryl what she had asked for.
He needed an heir—someone to carry the family legacy if death claimed him prematurely. In exchange, the interests of the Zonfrillo family would be hers and her child’s, without dispute.
At the very least, he could guarantee Fiona’s safety, repaying her for the night she had saved him from death. With the Niven family’s future uncertain and Zephyr’s ambitions sharpening like a blade, protection was synonymous with survival.
On the morning of the wedding, Fiona was breathtaking—draped in crimson silk that blazed against the backdrop of blooming spring azaleas. A long-suppressed desire stirred within Soren, knocking insistently at his ribs. Even after the ceremony concluded, his thoughts wandered. A husband had every right to claim his bride, he reminded himself; succumbing to longing would not be a sin.
Then, as if to snuff out the flame, Zephyr burst in, wine staining his collar, his bloodshot eyes gleaming with a wolfish grin. “A pity, Soren,” he sneered. “The woman you married once lay beneath me. Her beauty held me captive. If not for the thin scar on her chest, she’d be flawless. Even now, she makes me forget myself.”
Zephyr prided himself on persuasion rather than force; every conquest he boasted of had knelt willingly.
“She likes me, Soren,” Zephyr continued, “but fear of my schemes pushed her toward you. Believe it or not, I wasn’t after influence alone. I truly liked her.”
Soren paled at the confession. The fragile tenderness he’d begun to feel shattered like brittle autumn glass.
He remembered how Fiona had saved him without even knowing his name, but suspicion crept in. What if Zephyr had manipulated her, placing a pawn disguised as a savior? People in love were capable of unthinkable things.
A quiet ribbon of tenderness unfurled within him—not love, nor affection, but a sober pity that sometimes arises when one realizes how fragile another can be in the face of their own power.
Afterward, he began teaching her mounted archery. She was quick to learn, and to his surprise, Soren discovered a patience within himself he had never acknowledged before. When that patience frayed, their silent struggles were absorbed by the night, and by dawn, all was forgiven and forgotten. He poured over every technique that might suit her frame, emptying his quiver of knowledge until nothing remained unshared.
The chapter closes on a note of fragile reconciliation and tentative hope, as Soren and Fiona navigate the complexities of their marriage and the tangled emotions that bind them. Beneath the surface of political alliances and personal regrets, there is an emerging tenderness—one born not of passion, but of a sober recognition of each other’s vulnerabilities. Soren’s growing patience and Fiona’s quiet gestures hint at a slow but meaningful transformation, where protection and understanding begin to replace suspicion and distance.
Yet, the shadows of past wounds and unspoken fears linger, reminding them both that their journey is far from simple or certain. The delicate balance between duty and desire, between power and intimacy, continues to shape their lives, leaving open the possibility that through shared struggles and silent forgiveness, they might find a new kind of connection—one that transcends the scars of their past and the burdens of their families’ legacies.
The next chapter promises to delve deeper into the evolving dynamics between Soren and Fiona, as their tentative bond is tested by lingering doubts and unspoken emotions. With Fiona’s gift of Glowstrike and the quiet moments of intimacy they share, a fragile connection begins to form, yet the shadow of Zephyr’s presence looms heavily. Readers can anticipate moments of vulnerability and tension as Soren grapples with his own feelings, torn between duty, resentment, and a growing sense of responsibility toward Fiona.
As Soren takes on the role of mentor, teaching Fiona the art of mounted archery, their interactions will reveal new facets of their characters—patience, determination, and perhaps unexpected tenderness. But beneath the surface, the unresolved conflicts and past wounds threaten to resurface, hinting at challenges that could either draw them closer or drive them apart. The delicate balance of power, trust, and protection will be tested, leaving readers eager to see whether their alliance can withstand the pressures mounting around them.
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.

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