My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38 Snowbound Morning

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With the roads clogged by ice, the carriage jolted and lurched. Fiona rose half an hour earlier than usual, layers of wool and velvet shielding her from the predawn chill, just to reach Sweetbriar Academy on time.

Lilith’s punishment had ended; she, too, needed to return to class. Her own small carriage threatened to skid on the slippery lanes, so she climbed into Fiona’s larger coach, clutching a fur muff for warmth.

Fiona rarely wasted a journey. The moment the ox–hide curtains were secured, she opened a slim volume of Classical Poems, murmuring verses under her breath. Faced with such diligence, Lilith dared not idle.

“Fiona, that gown is exquisite,” Lilith breathed, her eyes abandoning their page for the embroidered plum blossoms along Fiona’s sleeve.

Among all the young ladies in Jexburgh, none dressed with Fiona’s effortless grace.

Lilith envied the strong, indulgent mother who had nurtured Fiona so well. From glossy hair to skin smooth as silk, Fiona seemed sculpted from privilege itself.

Her own mother, Isabel, cared only for birthing a son. Neglect was the air Lilith breathed- scolding the thunder that followed every fragile misstep.

Fiona tapped her chin as though auditioning fabrics in her mind. Lilith was nearly of age to be engaged, and girls that age adored pretty things.

“Once lessons are over, come to my rooms and pick two dresses you like,” Fiona said, her tone light yet decisive.

Lilith’s eyes lit up. “Truly?”

Fiona laughed, a quiet spill of music in the corridor. “Of course,” she said. Then curiosity stole into her voice. “But tell me–why are the gowns your aunt makes for you so plain?”

The question pricked something tender. Lilith lowered her gaze, fingers twisting together. “My aunt worries only about finding me a good match; beyond that, she hardly spares a thought. Everything else–my clothes included–is arranged by my mother, and she does not care for

me much”

The mother Lilith meant was Joanna, the principal wife of the main branch.

Fiona could not help judging Joanna’s pettiness. Had it been her, she would never have

Chapter 38 Snowbound Morning

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rationed silk to a half–sister. An extra ribbon cost her nothing, and a well–married girl might one day bring favor back to the family.

Family harmony, Hannah always said, was the soil from which every blessing sprouted. Those words still rang true.

Fiona then leaned closer. “Spend more time with Grandma. She may not dote on you, yet you are her blood, and she will see that you have what you need.”

It was not stinginess that held Fiona back. The second branch had long learned that meddling in the main branch invited suspicion. She could help, but she would not be drawn into scandalous rumors.

After her friendship with Naomi turned as fragile as frost, Fiona felt the chill each time she entered Sweetbriar Academy. Desks that once formed easy circles now seemed to edge away.

Naomi had simply planted herself at Roxanne’s side and stopped speaking to her. Even so, the silent declaration was enough. Other girls copied the stance, choosing sides with the swiftness of falling petals.

Had Yolanda remained–she was home preparing for her wedding–she might have broken the ice. Without her, conversations drifted around Fiona like smoke.

Fiona had never been quarrelsome. In two lifetimes, she had not tasted real exclusion. She was grown now; the hurt did not cut deep, yet it lay there, a small stone in her shoe.

Classes lasted only a few hours. The true loss was the lively chatter that used to lace every break.

The annual snow viewing would begin in a few days, the prime season on Frostenden Mountain. Invitations fluttered through the academy like winter birds, but none perched at Fiona’s desk. If she were to miss it now, she would have to wait another year.

Lilith, on the other hand, had received one of those gilded cards and now fretted over whether she should go.

“You should,” Fiona said to her, voice warm despite the chill outside. “The snow on Frostenden Mountain is at its finest, and making friends will serve you better than hiding at home.”

Good companionship was never a burden. Most girls were kind at heart. Once familiar, they happily traded small favors.

Lilith nodded. On the appointed day, she fastened the lavender skirt Fiona had given her and left in a flurry of anticipation.

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Chapter 38 Snowbound Morning

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She came back that evening sparkling with stories–waterfalls of words about crystal pines, hot tea in mountaintop pavilions, laughter that echoed off the snow. Each detail struck Fiona like a tiny regret.

In her mind, the tally of blame unfurled. The first name etched in bold was Soren’s.

The Zonfrillo Estate, she decided, was far too vain, presuming every girl dreamed of marrying into it. She had never once entertained such a notion.

For now, though, her greater worry was the shop she meant to open. Harriet had yet to send word, and business arrangements were a different ledger from the bargains she kept with

Soren.

Days dragged under that waiting. Thankfully, the answer did arrive before impatience hardened into despair.

Under the pretext of sharing the season’s first snowfall, Harriet sent word to Fiona. The invitation carried enough warmth—and perhaps a flicker of curiosity–that the two young women soon found themselves face–to–face once more.

Frostenden Peak, prized as the kingdom’s finest vantage for winter skies, charged a steep fee and required reservations secured months ahead. Others would gain entry only through the combined influence of Roxanne and Naomi, earning one coveted day upon the summit.

All the long ascent was wrapped in white. Snow blanketed the road so deeply that even goose- down seemed dull beside it. Petite flakes drifted from an overcast sky like ten thousand blossoms unfurling at once, turning every bare branch into a living latticework–alive with promise, yet hushed beneath a cathedral silence that stretched to the horizon.

From within the swaying carriage, Fiona pressed a gloved hand to the window, her breath fogging the glass. “Such beauty… Makes even the busiest heart fall still,” she whispered.

“Just wait until we reach the crest. From there, the valley runs on for what feels like a thousand miles. And there’s a lodge kept so warm you can sip hot tea while watching the snowstorm without feeling a single chill.” Harriet flashed a smile.