My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 139

pter 139 Storms Over Junbert

Chapter 139 Storms Over Junbert

“Fiona is coming to Junbert, yet I cannot spare the men to fetch her,” Zachary sighed.

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At that moment, he and Xavier were high in the mountains, smoke drifting from outlaw camps they had set ablaze.

“Allow me,” Xavier said after scanning the letter, his eyes as calm as a still lake before a storm.

Zachary thought for a moment, then gave a curt nod.

Fiona’s first glimpse of Junbert robbed her breath. She had heard tales of its savage cliffs and hungry earth, yet standing within that stark landscape was like stepping into a painting rendered solely in iron and dust.

Inside the carriage, Pearl raised a cautious hand. “Please, stay still, my lady,” she whispered, watching the ragged beggars who had spilled into the road.

Fiona gathered every loaf, apple, and dried strip of meat the coach carried and handed them out through the window, her smile gentle, her eyes quietly determined.

Then the ground began to tremble with the drumbeat of hooves. Fiona lifted her gaze

and saw a column of riders cresting the rise, their banners snapping like thunder in the barren wind.

At the head of the escort rode Xavier, the Luthor family’s second son, his steel–gray breastplate catching what little sun slipped between Junbert’s low clouds. He tightened the reins with a practiced tug. The stallion obeyed at once, hooves grinding to a halt amid a swirl of dust.

“Ms. Fiona, by order of Mr. Niven, I am here to bring you home.”

In armor, Xavier looked sharper than Fiona remembered–every line of his face honed like a blade fresh from the whetstone, eyes carrying the chill certainty of a man who had lived too long at the front.

Fighting bandits draws blood every hour. Under that polished shell, he must be hiding more wounds than he would ever confess, Fiona thought, her pulse tightening with quiet sympathy.

“Thank you for the trouble, Mr. Xavier.” Xavier’s gaze lingered. She was quieter today, as though someone had tucked the light of her laughter out of reach.

A ragged boy darted forward, palm out for bread. Fiona’s hand was already on her pouch, yet Xavier met the child with a flat, ice–hard stare. The urchin backed away, anger in his eyes but fear in his feet.

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11:44 Tue, Oct 14

Chapter 139 Storms Over Junbert

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“Ms. Fiona’s carriage–follow me.” His order cracked through the air, soldiers wheeling at once.

Fiona hesitated, compassion weighing on her, but finally let the curtain fall and sealed herself within the dark velvet of the coach.

“Junbert is crawling with raiders,” Xavier explained from the saddle, voice filtering past the carriage wall. “If beggars learn that food can be claimed with a whimper, bandit chiefs will soon press them into service. The numbers would triple by winter.”

I understood as much, Fiona reflected. Many nobles are far less patient than I. One accidental slight, one wrong doorstep, and a child could lose his life. To some, these souls are ants beneath a heel.

“Mr. Niven is already changing what he can,” Xavier added. “When the factions settle and the bandits are gone, this city will finally know peace.”

A province without its own strong hand, he implied, invited chaos–endless skirmishes, torches in the night, families counted only by the ashes they left behind.

They reached a choke point where broken crates and roofing tiles formed a crooked barricade. Only a single horse could slip through; the heavy carriage would never fit.

Xavier swung down, swept the curtain aside, and offered a gloved hand. “Ride my stallion. I’ll guide you across.”

“I brought quite a lot with me,” Fiona warned.

“Servants will deliver everything to the estate.” He spared one glance at the stacked parcels.

“Some of it is for you. While sewing for Princess Helen, I made you two new coats.”

For the first time that morning, Xavier’s mouth bent into something almost gentle. “Thank you, Ms. Fiona.”

With a single effortless motion, he lifted her onto the saddle before him, as though she weighed no more than silk.

The horse, proud and ill–tempered, stamped in protest. Xavier flicked the whip once; the animal snorted but stilled, rankled yet obedient.

“Perhaps I should walk,” she murmured. This beast seemed fiercer than Soren’s mount, and in another life, she had tasted the dust of a hard fall despite solid horsemanship.

A faint curve touched Xavier’s lips. “While I’m here, Ms. Fiona, you have nothing to fear.”

The two subordinates traded glances–eyes widening in mutual disbelief. They had never, in

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