My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 292

Neglected 292 Summary

A few days before his departure for Broadmoor, Soren discovered that Esme, the maid, was actually a secret agent placed by Zephyr. This revelation shocked him deeply. As he found letters from Zephyr to Fiona, promising her a future, Soren’s feelings grew conflicted, especially as Fiona remained silent about her secret meetings with Zephyr. Her occasional soft questions about Zephyr pierced Soren’s composure, stirring unpleasant emotions and jealousy.

Zephyr’s arrogant message claiming Fiona’s loyalty to the throne and his eventual return to her fueled Soren’s bitterness. He realized Fiona’s love for power overshadowed personal affection, and though he cared for her, ambition weighed heavily on him. When Fiona risked her own freedom to protect Esme from punishment, Soren dismissed the incident, rationalizing that Fiona’s sacrifices for others were part of their complicated relationship. Despite their estrangement, memories of intimacy haunted him during lonely nights.

After more than half a year at Broadmoor, Soren and Fiona returned to Jexburgh, but their relationship was reduced to duty, focused solely on producing heirs. Two years passed in this cold routine until Pearl’s letter revealed Fiona’s deep feelings for Soren and urged him to treat her kindly. Soren, seeing himself as flawed rather than cruel, contemplated this before returning to Jexburgh. Yet, upon arrival, Fiona’s indifferent question about Zephyr’s rise to emperor extinguished any lingering desire within him.

Soren’s jealousy and bitterness grew, and he continued to treat Fiona with cold detachment. Their last parting was marked by silence and unresolved pain. Shortly after leaving Jexburgh, Soren received devastating news of Fiona’s death. Overcome with shock and grief, he became physically and emotionally broken, barely remembering his journey back to the estate. Despite warnings to rest, Soren resolved to return home, resigned to death as the only escape from the emptiness left by Fiona’s passing. The loss drained all meaning from his former ambitions and honors, leaving him hollow and desolate.

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Only a few days before he was set to depart for Broadmoor, Soren uncovered a startling truth: Esme was no ordinary maid but a secret agent quietly placed by Zephyr. The revelation struck him like a sudden frost settling over warm silk, chilling and unexpected. As he rifled through Esme’s small, polished box, one letter after another emerged—each penned by Zephyr, his sweeping script promising futures meant for Fiona. The pages carried a faint scent of camphor mixed with reckless ambition.

Fiona had met Zephyr in secret, never uttering a single word about it. Soren waited, hoping she would eventually confide in him, but her silence grew heavier with each passing day, becoming a shield thicker than armor.

Sometimes, when she looked at him without any pretense, she would ask softly how Zephyr had been. The genuine concern in her voice felt like splinters piercing Soren’s carefully maintained composure.

He couldn’t quite name the feeling clawing inside his chest. It was certainly displeasure, maybe even a flash of murderous rage when he imagined Zephyr’s smug smile.

Then came Zephyr’s message, cold and arrogant: “She refused me only to protect the Niven family. When I seize the throne, she will come back to me.” The arrogance tasted like rust, bitter and corrosive.

So, Fiona loved power. Of course she did—who didn’t? Affection was just another jeweled handle attached to the throne of authority.

Soren’s feelings for Fiona had always been something he could easily shrug off like a light cloak. Ambition, however, was a weight that pressed close to his bones.

She would never reach out for him, and he would never beg.

When he ordered Penelope to punish Esme, Fiona threw herself forward in desperation, willing to sacrifice her own freedom to save the maid’s life. For several nights, she knelt outside the courtyard, the cold winter wind carving lines into her cheeks, a silent testament to her pain.

In the end, Soren dismissed the matter as if it were smoke that no longer stung his eyes.

After all, she had once pulled him back from the brink of death. Letting her pine for another man seemed a small price to pay.

If the day came when she asked to leave, he would make the path safe and easy for her.

He was, after all, a solitary creature. Betrayal circled him like weather around a mountain—constant, impersonal, and inevitable.

Yet, on nights when the fortress of sleep loosened its gates, he sometimes recalled the softness of her limbs entwined with his, a memory blooming in a place where trust could never take root.

Broadmoor held him captive for more than half a year.

When he and Fiona returned to Jexburgh, their encounters dwindled to the blunt necessity of producing heirs. Children, he believed, would carry the best parts of both of them forward.

Two whole years passed in this austere rhythm.

It wasn’t until the third year that Pearl wrote to him, confessing that Fiona missed him terribly and that it was true—not just a rumor—that Fiona was in love with him. She even begged Soren to treat his wife kindly.

Soren never considered himself cruel, just malformed—a man whose inner compass never learned the gentle directions. He believed he was granting Fiona the freedom to love in her own unfathomable way.

He brooded over Pearl’s letter for several days before sending a message ahead, carefully listing the exact date his regiment would arrive in Jexburgh.

Upon his arrival, every deputy general found their wives waiting at the city gate. Soren rode in alone, the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing against stone like hollow laughter.

That night, returning from court, he claimed Fiona with a fierce intensity fueled by wounded pride. After all, he had written.

She didn’t utter a single word. Half-asleep, she murmured, “Is Prince Zephyr about to become emperor?”

Whatever flicker of yearning had survived inside him snapped cleanly. Soren was not a man who opened doors; instead, he was one who checked every lock, again and again, on every soul he encountered.

“The road will kill you in this condition, Lord Soren,” Quentin warned.

“So?” he replied evenly. “At worst, death awaits me.”

Just death. Nothing more.

The fact that he could speak so lightly of throwing his life away startled Soren for a moment. Then a weary smile crept over his lips, as if Fiona’s death had drained the world of anything worth holding onto.

Power? Fame? The titles and honors that once gleamed before him now seemed hollow, stripped of all color and meaning.

Conclusion

Soren’s journey through betrayal, ambition, and cold detachment has left him a shadow of the man he once was, haunted by the fragile remnants of love and trust that never fully took root. His complex feelings for Fiona—tangled with jealousy, pain, and reluctant compassion—reveal a soul burdened by the weight of unspoken truths and quiet sacrifices. The chapter paints a poignant portrait of a man caught between duty and desire, where the pursuit of power overshadows the human connections he once held dear.

In the end, Fiona’s death shatters the fragile equilibrium Soren maintained, stripping away the last illusions of control and purpose. His acceptance of death as a possible escape underscores the profound emptiness left in the wake of loss. This chapter closes on a somber note of resignation, where the grandeur of titles and ambitions fades into insignificance, leaving only the raw ache of a heart irrevocably changed.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

As the next chapter unfolds, the weight of Fiona’s death will press heavily on Soren’s already fractured spirit, pushing him toward choices that could redefine his path forever. The fragile threads of his past—his complex feelings for Fiona, the bitter rivalry with Zephyr, and the cold walls he’s built around himself—are poised to unravel in ways that may expose vulnerabilities he has long suppressed. Readers can expect an intimate exploration of grief and the raw, unguarded moments that follow such a profound loss.

Tensions simmer beneath the surface as Soren confronts his own mortality and the void left by Fiona’s absence. The arrival of unexpected allies and the resurgence of old ambitions might challenge his resolve, forcing him to grapple with questions of loyalty, love, and the true cost of power. Amidst the shadow of impending change, the story promises a compelling mix of emotional turmoil and strategic maneuvering, where every decision could tip the balance between redemption and ruin.