My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 120

hapter 120 Shadows On The Beam

Chapter 120 Shadows On The Beam

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When the intruders finally left, Soren and Fiona resumed their search, moving from the main hall to a side wing where dust lay thick as ash.

“Any guesses who that ‘lord‘ might be?” she whispered, lips so close to his ear he felt the brush of every consonant.

“Couldn’t it be someone sent by your grandmother?” he murmured back.

“It is absolutely not Granny,” she answered, brow knitting even in the dark.

Annoyed, she shifted to crawl ahead. Soren’s quick hand pressed her down again, and this time she ended up squarely in his lap.

The position–hip to hip, her weight resting across his thighs–was far too suggestive. Muscles locked, she reached for a pillar to steady herself, desperate to appear unaffected.

“Don’t move.” His fingers closed around her wandering hand, the warning colder than steel.

If she listened closely, she noticed that Soren’s voice carried a ragged edge, a husky rasp that did not belong to his usual measured baritone. It was as though the darkness itself had sanded his words raw before letting them slip across the narrow space between them.

His breath skimmed over Fiona’s cheeks–warm, charged, and tingling like the brush of distant lightning. Tiny shivers chased one another along her skin. She bit her lower lip, desperate to break the spell, and whispered, “It… tickles.”

Soren’s brows twitched upward, a quick pulse of surprise he failed to hide.

The instant Fiona sensed something dangerous stirring in him, her body went perfectly still. She held her silence, afraid that even one stray word would snap the thin line of control between them.

A beat later, his arm circled her waist. Calloused fingertips wandered over the small of her back, lazy as a cat’s paw, as though he were deciding what to do with the secret he had just discovered there.

“If you truly were a man of honor,” she murmured, a tremor sliding beneath the calm of her voice, “you wouldn’t let your mind wander down improper paths.”

He sounded utterly unruffled. “And what improper paths might those be?”

“Deny it if you must,” she said, her expression cooling like steel plunged into water, “but you

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12:12 Mon, Oct 13

Chapter 120 Shadows On The Beam

know exactly what you were thinking.”

“Then say it outright,” he pressed, unwilling to let the matter rest.

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Fiona saw the sudden spark of challenge in his eyes and scaled her mouth with a firm line, refusing him even a single syllable.

Night pooled around them. Words failed; only the slow weave of their breathing remained, each exhale tangling with the other’s like threads on the same loom.

She forced her own breath into measured hushes, as if quieter lungs could tame the heat coiling in the air.

Reading the simmering anger beneath her stillness, Soren let the game drop and offered no further tease.

Time stretched–minutes, perhaps longer–before the faint scuff of departing footsteps told them the corridor outside had finally emptied.

They descended from their hiding place and separated to comb the shadow–drenched study for clues. Not a single word passed between them; silence felt safer.

Fiona hadn’t expected to uncover anything tonight, yet piecing together Soren’s intentions felt like progress. Working beside him, she admitted, might prove the surest route through this

maze.

“Whoever set all this in motion must know that Pierre left behind a written confession,” she said after steadying her thoughts.

Soren glanced over his shoulder. “And your grandmother may care more about that scroll than you imagine.”

Fiona answered quickly, almost in defense of another. “Not every scheme in Yondale traces back to my granny.”

“Yet the gossip in Yondale says a certain highborn patron trades favors for bribes–twisting the law, lining pockets, letting common folk suffer.” His gaze pinned her. “Tell me, Fiona, who do they mean? A head rolls the same either way…”

She lowered her eyes. “If Granny is guilty, I will accept it. But if she is not, I will not let the world paint her as a villain. She isn’t the monster they need her to be.”

Still, Fiona knew Emperor Aldric required a convenient traitor, and Helen–despite her gifts to the war effort and the blood her eldest son spilled for Duflana–fit that role too well.

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Chapter 120 Shadows On The Beam

必零

“When every charge ends at the gallows Soren said softly, “adding or subtracting one sin matters little. History remembers halos and horns, not the exact tally of misdeeds”

His words struck her like a silent cudgel. Whether the emperor found one charge or twenty. the noose around Helen’s neck would tighten just the same.

“Hannah’s harsh decree to cut you off from the Princess Royal’s household may have sounded merciless,” Soren added, voice gentler now, “but perhaps that cruelty was only another way of keeping you safe.”

Soren had never truly concerned himself with the fates of strangers; lives rose and fell like candle stubs in the wind, and he rarely spared them a glance. Only Fiona’s faint, half–forgotten bond with him from another lifetime made him pause tonight and offer a warning: if she possessed a shred of sense, she would avoid Helen’s troubles altogether.

Even if Helen was innocent, Emperor Aldric would never allow her to live, and many- including Soren himself—yearned for her death.

Memories slashed across Fiona’s mind like broken glass. She saw Helen caged, humiliated, forced to cut her own throat; Edmund convulsing from poison; her uncle rotting in a cell; Cecilia dragged into a soldiers‘ brothel. Grief swelled, hot and unstoppable, until tears finally fell.

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