My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 151

Chapter 151 A Sliver Of Hope

Chapter 151 A Sliver Of Hope

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Before Fiona could even finish her gentle question, Lilith’s lashes trembled, and a bright tear slipped free. Fiona caught the drop with her lace handkerchief, dabbing away the wet trail with a tenderness that felt almost motherly. “Grandmother didn’t speak up for you?” Fiona asked in a hush, still blotting the next tear.

Mdm. Isabel fell terribly ill after the quarrel, Lilith whispered, her voice snagging on each word. “So Grandmother couldn’t interfere. Hearing that you were home today gave her some relief.”

Trust Isabel to be so shortsighted. Fiona fumed behind her calm smile. She has only one child, yet treats Lilith like a pawn. When old age creeps in, who will she expect to lean on? In the women’s quarters of every grand estate, rot like this festered without end.

“Come to Bamboo Lodge tonight and sleep beside me“, Fiona coaxed, her tone a warm breeze amid winter dread. “You’ve been shut away so long; the dark must terrify you.”

Fresh tears pearled in Lilith’s eyes, shining like dew on bruised petals.

Her punishment had sealed her inside a forgotten corner of the estate–a narrow courtyard, damp and crooked, visited only by the servant who slid her meals through the door. Each day, fear seeped from the cracked walls and wrapped around her throat. Sometimes she imagined dying there, her body cooling beneath weeds; no one would notice.

Lying awake, she replayed summers when Fiona’s shadow had shielded her–moments when the world dared not bruise her because Fiona stood in the way.

But the chill memory of her mother’s contempt sliced through even those warm recollections. “You’re a low–born nobody,” Isabel had sneered, her voice colder than stone. “Do you really think Ms. Fiona cares? She summons you when bored and dismisses you just the same—a toy to pass the hours.”

I know that isn’t true. I’ve met other illegitimate daughters who thrived because their mothers protected them. My own mother never lifted a finger; that is why no one bothered to care about me, but Fiona is different. Grandma said she remembered me today, and that single sentence lit a lantern in my heart. I am not unwanted. C

“I think… I want to share your bed every night for a while.” Lilith sniffled, emboldened by Fiona’s softness.

“Of course,” Fiona replied, her smile steady as moonlight.

When Vincent appeared later, his manner was gentle too. He placed the plate of sweet pastries

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Chapter 151 A Sliver Of Hope

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prepared for Fiona between them, then slid a smaller dish toward Lilith. “Have some too, Lilith.” Vincent said, pushing the dish closer.

The unexpected kindness left Lilith blinking as though someone had opened a window in her cell.

Night settled before Fiona noticed the bruises and welts that mapped Lilith’s back like cruel constellations. She asked no questions. Instead, she had Lilith lie prone while she cleaned each wound with lukewarm saltwater, every dab a silent promise of shelter.

“Fiona, I heard quarrels are brewing between the Zonfrillo Estate and Princess Royal’s Estate,” Lilith murmured, sunk deep into the softness of Fiona’s mattress and care.

“They were never fond of each other in the first place,” Fiona answered.

“But Duchess Zonfrillo favors the sixth daughter of the Muirhaven Estate for Lord Soren,” Lilith said, turning to search Fiona’s eyes. “What will become of you and Lord Soren, after what happened in Crane Tower?”

If Lilith knew what truly unfolded in Yondale, fear would shatter her. And Meryl would break as well.

“Tomorrow,” Fiona said, gently steering the conversation away, “I’ll take you out to buy two new dresses.”

Lilith stopped probing. Instead, she produced a silk pouch as though unveiling some forbidden treasure, sliding it toward Fiona. “I made this while I was confined,” she whispered, “a preview, before rarer jewels drown your eyes on ceremony day.” Inside lay a bracelet she had strung herself. Each bead differed–pearl, amber, turquoise–but every stone was the finest she owned, cannibalized from trinkets she could no longer wear. Their mismatched brilliance formed a humble, stubborn constellation. “Your hands are magic, Lilith. I adore it,” Fiona said. Lilith’s smile burst open like spring after a brutal frost.

She proved the words true the very next morning. When she escorted Lilith to the dressmakers, the bracelet already hugged her pale wrist, its green emerald beads flashing against skin as white as scallion stalks, injecting playful color.

Fiona avoided Scarlet Boutique, wary of running into Luna. Instead, she guided the carriage to Ambrosial House, a loftier emporium of silk and fragrance. Inside, fate placed her before Penelope and a poised young lady whose gentle beauty recalled mountain springs. Fiona guessed quickly–this had to be Isabella Muirhaven, the famous sixth daughter of the

marquess.

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