My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101 Veil Of Malice

Chapter 101 Veil Of Malice

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The newcomers could not guess what storm had just swept through, yet Fiona’s flushed checks and guarded posture made her wish the floorboards would open and swallow her whole.

Moments earlier, Serena had sworn she heard the heir’s voice inside. Finding only Fiona now, she let out a breath of visible relief, shoulders settling as if a guillotine had been lifted from her neck.

Serena edged closer, hand lifted in tentative comfort. “Fiona, are you feeling unwell?” She reached to gauge her temperature, concern painted across every feature.

Fiona angled away, cool as winter glass. The bright smile she usually carried had vanished, leaving a mask of calm so thin it threatened to shatter at a touch.

Pieces of an old memory slid into place, and suddenly the answer stared at her. In the last life, Serena had vanished into a distant marriage soon after she plotted against Roxanne. That punishment had come from the Thankerton family; sending Serena away had been exile in all but name, and the Prescott household had washed its hands of her to save itself.

A woman stripped of her family’s shield is a bird with clipped wings–no future, no sky.

Serena’s target had always been Roxanne, yet fate had twisted the arrow and lodged it in Fiona’s own flesh. Roxanne must have sensed the trap but kept silent, letting Fiona become the blade that would cut Serena down.

None of this was guesswork. She had eaten nothing suspicious all day; the only drink had come while chatting with Roxanne. Serena’s sudden summons made it plain who had stood beside her just before disaster.

Roxanne was no villain, but neither was she saintly. Had Fiona been in her place, she would have warned a friend. Roxanne preferred spotless hands, leaving punishment to circumstance.

Perhaps she hated Serena. The feud between Serena and Roxanne had dragged an innocent bystander–her–into the mire, and that stung worse than any poison.

It was the first time she tasted raw malice among girls of her age whom she had grown up with. A chill spread through her ribs at that discovery. Until this moment, she had believed that childhood friends might quarrel, but they would never stoop to treachery. Now she knew better.

Serena’s expression flickered, the color draining then returning in a single breath. “Fiona, what’s wrong?” she asked, voice pitched low with worry.

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12:32 Sun, Oct 12 A

Chapter 101 Veil Of Malice

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“I want to rest,” Fiona murmured, closing her eyes against the candlelight.

She no longer wished to think about anything at all; silence felt kinder than memory.

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Sleep swallowed her for what felt like seasons. Colors bent, halls stretched, and impossible creatures drifted through her dreams until reality finally tugged her back. Meryl, who had kept vigil at the bedside, released a breath she had been holding for days. “You’re awake at last,” she said, voice trembling.

“Mother…” Fiona’s cracked lips moved. “Water.”

At once, Meryl lifted a spoon, easing a sip of chilled spring water between her daughter’s lips.

After swallowing, Fiona gathered strength enough to ask, “That day…”

Meryl stroked her hair. “Hush. Very few know what happened, and it harmed no one. Lilith and the daughter of the Fuller family smoothed everything over at the Spring Academy Gala. Consider it forgotten. The Thankerton family even asked my opinion,” she continued. “The Prescotts feel ashamed of having raised such a daughter. Serena will soon be married off far from here.”

Fiona’s surprise flickered behind her eyes. Roxanne had clearly expected her to handle the fallout–why solve it herself in the end?

Turning the puzzle over, she could think of only one answer: Soren must have intervened.

Meryl’s gaze softened. “So much misfortune in Jexburgh, child. Would you like to stay with your grandmother for a while? Her estate sits near your father’s post–you could visit him easily.”

The near–drowning and this latest scandal had etched deep shadows in Meryl’s heart.

She muttered to herself that Jexburgh’s stars clearly clashed with Fiona’s this year.

Fiona froze. The dates lined up in her mind: Pierre’s strange death was imminent, an event that would brand Helen a traitor. She had wanted to go visit Helen anyway and had worried about an excuse. Now one had arrived, neatly gift–wrapped by fate.

Later that evening, after Fiona managed a few bites of supper, Pearl Winters burst into the chamber. “Madam, Ms. Naomi and Lord Soren from the Zonfrillo Estate have arrived.”

“Show them in at once,” Meryl replied. She owed Soren far more than courtesy. Without the antidote he had supplied, Serena’s affair could never have been solved.

Soren had already saved Fiona’s life once. With Naomi accompanying him, protocol posed no

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