My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 148

r 148 Shadows Of Accountability

Chapter 148 Shadows Of Accountability

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“Shouldn’t I feel responsible?” A flicker of something unreadable crossed his eyes, but he kept whatever knowledge he carried locked behind them.

“You do not actually like me, Soren.”

He said nothing, silence stretching between them like a tightened bowstring.

Like? Even he could not call it that. Whatever warmth he felt was faint, more impulse than emotion.

At last, he spoke, voice even. “I won’t lie to you. I feel a measure of attraction–no more than the instinct any man might feel when circumstance and chemistry collide. I guard my conduct, nothing else.”

He did not deny her accusation, and that—perhaps–was answer enough.

“To me,” Fiona said, eyes unwavering, “sharing a bed with a man is hardly catastrophic- provided no one outside these walls learns of it, provided it harms neither the Niven family nor my income. You needn’t trouble yourself on my account.”

Soren’s brow creased, a brief shadow of discomfort passing over his features. Fiona saw it and almost smiled. She knew her words were scandalous enough to earn a woman the brand of harlot in polite society–though the very men who would condemn her often played richer, darker games in secret.

Soren’s shoulders went rigid. For an instant, the poised heir looked as if someone had slapped him in the great hall.

“Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouth?”

“That night was nothing but a hurried blur to me–like choking down unripe fruit. I can scarcely recall any of it, nor do I care to.”

She did remember every heated second, yet she forced the memory into a dull, colorless corner. If marrying Soren held no advantage, then the moment must be reduced to a footnote so they could deal with each other as ordinary partners in profit.

A shadow crossed Soren’s face. No young lord, however polished, could bear such casual dismissal of his prowess.

“If you refuse me, understand this–my betrothal will not remain in limbo. I will give you no chance to regret the decision later.” His tone was cool, almost unreadable.

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12:09 Wed, Oct 15

Chapter 148 Shadows Of Accountability

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“I do not fancy you either, Lord Soren. Not in the least.” Fiona met his stare without blinking, her voice soft but unyielding.

When she spoke the final words, Soren’s lips hooked into something that resembled a smile yet carried the chill of mid–winter. For a heartbeat, his mood seemed to crash through the floor.

Naomi stepped out of Splendor Palace just in time to watch her third brother stride past Fiona, face carved from stone. Soren was cold by nature, yet in front of ladies he normally wore impeccable courtesy. To see him bare his displeasure so openly made her stomach knot.

She knew his temper better than anyone. Whatever fragile affection had survived between him and Fiona after the scandal with Helen was likely gone.

Once, she had pictured Fiona as her sister–in–law. Since Soren’s return from Yondale, that picture had faded like ink in harsh sun.

“Fiona, did my brother just snap at you? He is never this blunt. Perhaps he woke up in a foul mood.” Naomi closed the distance, choosing honesty over decorum.

Fiona offered a small, unruffled smile. “I’m fine.”

Back inside Splendor Palace, Florence first praised Fiona’s beauty, then pressed for every detail of Yondale. Royal birth granted status, not freedom; talk of distant provinces tasted like fresh air to her.

“I wonder when I shall be allowed a journey beyond these walls,” Florence said with open envy.

Naomi laughed. “Why not marry into Brorchester? That would take you far enough.”

“If Duflana needed it, I would gladly wed for alliance,” Florence replied, eyes shining. “I cannot defend the realm with sword or spear, but I can give myself. Only Father would hate to part with me.”

After what happened with Granny, I have learned that nothing is impossible. Faced with towering interests, even blood ties can snap like twigs.

“Your second and third cousins–are their marriages nearly settled?” Florence asked, curiosity overruling tact.

Naomi nodded. “Very soon, I think.” She cast a sideways glance at Fiona, remembering how she once expected a match there. “Callum is considering Ms. Llewellyn, while Soren looks toward a young lady of the Muirhaven Estate. Both women seem pleased with the prospect.”

Yet Naomi’s favorite, Roxanne, had stepped neatly back from Soren and now spent

her

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