My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 207

From Callum’s perspective, Soren disliked crowds; stepping in for him felt natural enough. He had not, however, anticipated running into Fiona beneath the whispering pines.

“Fiona, after that tumble into the water, I thought you’d keep well clear of the lake. I admire the courage that brought you back.”

She answered only with a quick, mischievous smile. She never intended to wade in; the pleasure, for her, was crafting the bamboo rafts.

“Callum!” Naomi’s voice floated in from the path behind them.

Callum’s gaze flicked to a short knife wedged halfway into a stalk of green bamboo.

“I couldn’t snap the pole myself,” she explained softly. “I was on my way to find help.”

Without another word, Callum stepped forward, drew the blade free, and with two swift strikes severed the stubborn stalk. “Tell me, Soren,” he said over his shoulder, “would it have hurt to lend Fiona a hand?”

To Callum it was a trivial courtesy; there was no need for exaggerated propriety. He felt a flare

put the of disapproval at Soren’s habitual detachment–something that had never before brothers at odds.

True, his position at the Zonfrillo Estate required distance between himself and the Niven family. Yet it had been Fiona’s warning that spared his life on the road to Broadmoor, and gratitude would not allow coldness.

“Lord Soren offered already,” Fiona interjected quickly. “He’d just helped Ms. Chambers; I feared he might be tired and planned to ask someone else.”

“He endures harsher toil in the army camp,” Callum retorted. “If cutting bamboo exhausts him, what business has he leading men into battle?”

“Shall I gather some bamboo for you, then?” Soren asked, turning to Fiona at last.

“No need. I’m here now; I’ll see to it,” Callum answered, voice clipped.

Soren remained where he was, watching Fiona, clearly waiting for her decision.

“Neither of you have to trouble yourselves,” she decided after a pause. “I lacked experience earlier. Part of the enjoyment is figuring it out myself.”

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Chapter 207 Lake Outing

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Callum let the matter drop, but he stayed close, arms folded, observing like a silent guardian.

Soren, too, would have lingered, yet a distant call claimed his attention. Irritation flickered across his features, but duty pulled him away this once.

Callum did not simply watch Fiona hack through the bamboo stalks.

The moment the final culm fell he stepped forward, stripping the side branches with swift strokes and lashing the clean poles into a bundle before hoisting it onto his back.

Fiona followed behind him empty–handed, the smell of fresh bamboo sap sweet in the morning air.

“Who’s partnering with you?” Callum asked, glancing over his shoulder without breaking. stride.

“I was supposed to work with Lilith, but she’s resting at home, and I have no intention of testing the raft on the water, so I’m on my own.”

“Building a proper raft single–handed isn’t simple,” Callum observed, tone more matter–of–fact than critical.

“I’ll do what I can,” she said, a quiet smile playing at her lips.It’s the doing, not the finishing, that I’ve come for.

Callum fell silent, but his silence was not neglect.

While Fiona tied and notched the bamboo, he drifted back and forth like a patient teacher- pausing beside her every so often to murmur a trick of the trade, a carpenter’s shortcut.

Yet propriety stood between them; mindful of the unspoken rules, he never lingered long enough for anyone to raise an eyebrow.

“Lord Soren, could you check my raft? Is it strong enough?”

“Look at mine as well, please!”

“I need your help, too!”

The ladies, sleeves rolled to the elbow, vied for the young lord’s attention with almost childlike enthusiasm.

When Fiona met a knot she could not untangle she simply pondered until she found a solution; she was, after all, building for the fun of it, not for a river trial.

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11:03 Tue, Oct 21

Chapter 207 Lake Outing

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After a while, sensing a shadow fall across her hands, Fiona lifted the bamboo in question. “Mr. Callum, should this opening face up or down?”

But when she tipped her head back the man looming there was not Callum–Lord Soren’s dark eyes met hers, unreadable.

Color pricked her cheeks; she lowered her gaze at once and said nothing.

Soren’s attention slid to the back of her hand where a thin, crimson scratch marred the pale skin.

He crouched beside her without a word, gentle fingers sliding the carving knife from her palm before turning to the half–finished frame.

Neither of them spoke; only the hushed rasp of his blade against bamboo filled the space between them.

The closeness unsettled her; Fiona rose to her feet, brushing dust from her skirt as though the gesture could restore the distance.

“If you stay beside me, tongues will wag,” Soren said quietly. “Better wait over there, Ms. Fiona.”

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