Naomi’s results matched Lilith’s–solidly middle. Callum, no scholar himself, declared the outcome more than satisfactory.
“Fiona, you’ve done as well as Roxanne,” Naomi exclaimed, the comparison to their celebrated peer offered like a garland of fresh jasmine.
To stand shoulder to shoulder with a living example was cause for honest celebration.
Callum studied Fiona anew. Superior in mounted archery, second in mathematics–such breadth in a single lady demanded respect.
At the Niven family seat, however, Fiona’s steady ascendance no longer shocked anyone. Excellence, repeated often enough, becomes ordinary.
Only Hannah allowed herself open delight when whispers rose that Fiona might be next year’s Lady Laureate. On the Winter Solstice she ordered long banquet tables set beneath lanterns the color of ripe persimmon.
Vincent extended a personal invitation to Xavier.
The man arrived straight from his post, still in a fitted officer’s coat that emphasized broad shoulders and a disciplined waist, battle–readiness wrapped in courtly dark wool.
Fiona had not expected him. The instant she stepped into Vincent’s courtyard and saw Xavier standing amid drifting snowflakes, her breath snagged, as though the winter air had frozen mid–inhalation.
His stern eyes softened. “Ms. Fiona.”
She glanced up as a familiar shadow crossed the threshold.
Dust from freshly cut cedar still clung to her fingers, yet her posture remained effortlessly graceful. A small smile surfaced and, with a quiet nod of greeting, she murmured, “Mr. Xavier.”
Xavier stepped forward, both hands cradling a burlap bundle whose neat corners hinted at deliberate care.
When he pulled the cloth back, slim blocks of unworked timber gleamed softly. This marked the third time he had appeared with such offerings; it seemed he now moved through every market with her craft in mind.
A faint warmth flickered across Xavier’s usually composed features as he met her eyes.
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Chapter 195 Winter Solstice Lights
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“There is plenty of silver pearwood this time,” he said, voice low but unmistakably pleased. “You have always favored timber that carries a whisper of fruit blossom, so I bought as much as I could find.”
Fiona dipped her head, the corners of her eyes softening. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Turning to Vincent, Xavier smoothed an imagined crease from his sleeve before speaking again.
“Mr. Vincent and I have some matters to discuss. Ms. Fiona, why don’t you enjoy the garden for a while?” His tone remained evenly measured, yet a gentleness threaded every syllable.
Recognizing the dismissal, Fiona offered them both a final smile and slipped out, her slippers whispering over the corridor’s polished boards.
Vincent, meanwhile, watched the exchange with a thoughtful crease between his brows.
Xavier rarely pried into his sister’s affairs and never crossed lines of propriety, yet the indulgent lilt hidden in that last sentence had not escaped Vincent’s notice.
Still, he concluded, such fondness was hardly a problem; the two families had time.
Once their father settled the affairs in Junbert, conversations of marriage could resume. If they rushed now, the capital would surely lump Xavier in with Father’s faction, and that would invite unwanted turmoil.
Back at Bamboo Lodge, Fiona unfolded Xavier’s bundle across a low bamboo table and began turning each block in her hands like river stones.
Lilith drifted in, her laughter light as wind chimes. “These came from Mr. Xavier, didn’t they?”
“Mm.” Fiona’s answer was small, absorbed as she sorted the timber into careful piles.
Lilith leaned closer, curiosity bright in her eyes. “But why are they all the same kind?”
Fiona laughed softly and nudged a block toward her sister,
“Take a deep breath,” she said. “Each piece hides the fragrance of pear blossoms. Mr. Xavier knows I adore silver pearwood with that delicate fruit scent, so he purchased these for me.”
The words trailed off, caught in her throat as a sudden realization stalled her.
How does Xavier know I favor fruit–scented wood? In this lifetime I have never bought silver pearwood, never even mentioned it aloud. Only after my marriage in that other life did I purchase a few precious blocks, carving trinkets that perfumed Radiant Lodge with their sweetness.
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Chapter 195 Winter Solstice Lights
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Soren ignored my request at first, yet later, while stationed in Broadmoor, he secretly ordered scouts to find several more pieces and sent them home to me. Since then I have told no other soul about my fondness.
A tangle of emotions tightened across her chest–wonder, confusion, and a fluttering unease.
Could Xavier, too, have been reborn? If so, who was he in that distant past? Not Soren, surely–perhaps someone who once stood at his side, but no one else comes to mind.
Her heartbeat quickened, the possibility so extraordinary it felt nearly impossible—yet it refused to leave her mind.
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