My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 178

Chapter 178 The Polo Match

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Vincent pressed his lips into a thin line and turned away. Discussing the matter would only reopen wounds he intended to cauterize. Better, he thought, to grow old alone than chain another heart to empty promises.

Fiona sensed the finality in his silence and let the subject drop.

The palace gates seldom welcomed such a throng of young lords and ladies at once; the sight of them queuing beneath banners and spears lent the morning an air of festival wrapped in iron discipline.

Across the courtyard, Soren and Callum stood shoulder–to–shoulder with Cornelius, their conversation low and earnest. Zephyr was conspicuously absent.

Cornelius stood beneath the morning awning with the easy swagger of a man who had just won a private war. A sharp glimmer rode in his eyes, his posture light, almost celebratory–as though Zephyr had stumbled straight into a snare he had laid in silence.

Fiona edged closer to Vincent, fingers curled around the lacquered rail. She kept her voice soft yet urgent. “Why isn’t the Sixth Prince anywhere in sight today?”

Vincent lowered his tone, a brief, wry smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “His Majesty decided the prince needed discipline.” He said no more, unwilling to speak aloud the sordid details that clung to the punishment like mildew.

Fiona’s pulse skipped. If Zephyr is in disgrace, Vincent’s hand is surely in it. This cannot bode well.

Vincent straightened. “Take Lili and find seats. I’m going to greet the Fourth Prince.”

Cornelius greeted Vincent with a warmth that brightened his entire face, laughter ready in his throat, the camaraderie between them plain for all to see.

Fiona’s shoulders tightened. She disliked how easily her brother appeared to bond with Cornelius, and a faint line formed between her brows.

Obliging, she guided Lilith across the tiers and chose an empty table near the balustrade.

A steward hurried over, whispering, “Ms. Fiona, that section is reserved for gentlemen. Lord Soren himself was seated here a moment ago.”

Only then did she notice Soren’s sheathed sword leaning against the chair. A folded handkerchief had slipped from the tabletop; unaware, she had set her heel squarely upon the

fine silk.

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Chapter 178 The Polo Match

A second attendant gasped. “Ms. Fiona, you’ve soiled Lord Soren’s kerchief!”

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Across the gallery, Soren lifted his head, his gaze slicing through the chatter until it came to rest on her.

Fiona met his eyes for an instant, tilting her head in a silent apology.

He blinked once and looked away, as though the entire mishap concerned him no more than drifting dust.

Heat touched her cheeks. She had meant no harm. Quickly, she collected Lilith and moved toward another seat farther down the aisle.

Not far off, Roxanne watched Soren keenly. That kerchief–stitched for his birthday by Penelope–was an item he cherished. Yet, though Fiona had trodden upon it, Soren had shown not the faintest irritation.

Roxanne’s thoughts tangled while her eyes flicked back to Fiona, a complicated glint settling behind her calm exterior.

Ever since the preliminary talks of her engagement to Soren had dissolved, suitors had flooded the Thankerton residence beyond counting. No other lady in Jexburgh drew such fervent attention.

Her father wanted her to marry Cornelius, but she felt no stirring of affection for the man, so she kept stalling. Yet, the matter would soon be forced to its conclusion.

Naomi had been nestled beside Roxanne, but the instant she spotted Fiona, she brightened. “Roxanne, I’m going to sit with Fiona for a while.” With that, she practically skipped across the room to her friend.

Mindy murmured, “Since when are Naomi and Fiona so very close?”

Roxanne answered only with a polite smile, letting the question drift away like fringe caught in a breeze,

Moments later, Florence arrived, sweeping directly to Fiona and joining the little circle without hesitation.

At the clang of the signal bell, the polo match commenced. The young lords who had lounged in the shaded pavilion now descended to the turf, mounts stamping impatiently under bright

ribbons.

More than half of those gallant riders were strangers to Fiona. Of the men in Soren’s age bracket, she recognized only a handful–the famous names whose exploits were already woven

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Chapter 178 The Polo Match

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The match had been split into two full squads–eleven men a side–and the field looked like a portrait gallery come to life. The crimson–sashed team gathered around Cornelius, the Fourth Prince, his lieutenants Vincent and Xavier flanking him with easy confidence. Across the halfway line, Soren stood at the head of the blue squad, Callum and Laurence at his shoulders. Sunlight caught on polished boots, silk armbands, and determined eyes, turning the entire pitch into a tableau of youthful bravado and sharpened grace.

“Fiona, are you going to cheer for Soren today?” Naomi asked, her voice light yet eager as she tugged playfully at the older girl’s sleeve.

Florence tilted her head, curiosity shimmering in her gaze. “But Fiona’s own brother is out there,” she said. “Why would she support Soren instead?”

Fiona offered a courteous smile that revealed nothing. “Whoever wins, I’ll be delighted,” she said, the words polite, almost airy.

Politeness, however, could not hide the small betrayals of the body. Whenever Vincent or Xavier wrested the kickball away, Fiona’s fingers curled in a silent fist of encouragement. Yet when Soren gained possession, that same hand hovered over her lips as if to smother a rising worry.

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