My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 21

Chapter 21 Lingering Guilt

Chapter 21 Lingering Guilt

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Zephyr addressed Fiona casually, yet the sound of it struck Fiona like a pebble dropped into still water, sending ripples of unease across her heart.

In her previous life, Zephyr had schemed to make her his concubine, not out of affection but for leverage. All he truly coveted was the sprawling web of influence held by Helen.

Helen, though she had voluntarily withdrawn from court, remained inseparable from Prince Jinks, the general whose armies could decide any succession. At that time, Zephyr and the Fourth Prince, Cornelius Marchmont, were locked in a vicious race for the title of crown prince. If Fiona married him, Prince Jinks might well throw his banners behind Zephyr, and the scheme had very nearly succeeded.

Only when she became formally betrothed to Soren did Zephyr retreat, forced to smother his ambition beneath a courtly smile.

She gathered her wandering thoughts and, unwilling to offend him, said with a slight bow, “Thank you, Zephyr, for your generous indulgence.”

Zephyr tilted his head, a polite crescent forming at the corner of his mouth. “If ever you encounter some difficulty, Fiona, you need only come to me,” he offered.

Fiona recognized the sentence for what it was–ceremonial courtesy. A sheltered young lady like herself could hardly stroll into his residence to pose idle questions.

By the time the royal convoy split apart on the outskirts of Jexburgh, the sun had begun to sink, staining the stone walls in copper. Fiona’s carriage turned onto the residential street, and even from a distance, she spotted Meryl standing at the gate of the Niven Estate, hands folded, eyes searching every approaching wheel.

“Mother!” Fiona called, her voice bright as she pushed back the curtain and let a full smile blossom across her travel–worn face.

Meryl’s gaze swept over her daughter. The girl was tanned, thinner at the cheeks, and the sight tightened the woman’s throat until tears threatened to spill.

When Fiona set foot on the cobblestones, Meryl pulled her into a fierce embrace, saying, “I heard you were ill. I worried myself sick these past days. Are you really well now?”

“Long since recovered,” Fiona chirped, drawing back so her mother could see her grin. “My mounted archery has improved no end–His Majesty even praised me.”

Fiona then lifted a delicate cage in which a snow–white parrot fluffed its feathers. “His Majesty

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Chapter 21 Lingering Guilt

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gave me this. Such birds appear in the royal hunt scarcely once a decade.”

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Meryl barely spared the parrot a glance. She examined her daughter as though sight alone. could detect pain. The moment she spotted the angry swelling at Fiona’s wrist, love and frustration tangled in her chest. “What, you would even keep secrets from your own mother?”

The joint still throbbed. During her match with Princess Aurora, Fiona had pushed past every warning throb, determined not to appear delicate before the watching court; afterward, she had mentioned the hurt to no one.

At that moment, back beneath the familiar caves, Meryl’s wounded expression cut deeper than the pain itself, and Fiona felt a hot sting gather behind her eyes.

She sniffed, forcing a lighter tone. “Mother, I’m starving.”

“Supper is already laid out,” Meryl replied, smoothing Fiona’s hair. “Your grandmother waits in Ambrosial Garden, and your father will be home any moment. Oh, and your Uncle Stanley is in the house today as well.”

Stanley was Duke Niven himself, while her father, Zachary, held the senior second–rank post of minister in charge of appointments at the Ministry of Personnel.

Years ago, Helen had dismissed Zachary as unworthy, berating Meryl, a member of the Princess Royal’s family, for settling on a mere second son of the Niven family.

But Meryl’s resolve had been immovable; she would marry Zachary or no one, and in the end, Helen could only sigh and relent.

In the years that followed, Zachary’s steady ascent through the bureaucracy–earned by his own talent–finally quieted Helen’s lingering discontent.

Remembering the future in which her father was demoted, Fiona felt a rush of complicated emotion. This time, I will change whatever lies between Father and Granny

She washed the dust of travel away at Bamboo Lodge. By the time she entered Ambrosial Garden, Zachary had already arrived and was laughing over some anecdote with Stanley

“Father, Uncle Stanley” Fiona greeted, stepping across the threshold with a respectful bow.

Stanley leaned back in his chair, laughter rumbling from his chest, the firelight turning his silvering temples to gold. “Fiona, I must praise you properly today. You have lifted the Niven family’s banner higher than ever.”

News of her mounted archery duel with Princess Aurora had flown ahead of them, reaching Jexburgh long before their horses did. By the time Fiona crossed the city gates, her name was

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Chapter 21 Lingering Guilt

already whispered with admiration in every drawing room.

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Stanley was not the only one walking a little taller. Her father, Zachary, and her grandmother, Hannah, had worn irrepressible smiles ever since the first courier delivered the tidings. Each dawn found them lighter of step, as though the very air had brightened.

When the laughter subsided, Stanley leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Well? What reward would your heart choose?”

Fiona tapped one slender finger against her lower lip, pretending to ponder. “His Majesty has already gifted me a snowy parrot,” she said at last, voice lilting with mischief. “Could you, Uncle Stanley, find me a skilled birdkeeper to care for the little fellow?”

Stanley slapped the armrest in approval, the sound echoing like a drum. “Consider it done. I shall see to it tomorrow morning.”

Business settled, Fiona went to look for Hannah and Joanna Wagner, Stanley’s wife, and dove into tales of the autumn hunt–racing hooves, crisp leaves, and the thrill of an arrow splitting the sky.

Hannah listened not for the spectacle but for subtler music–the tenor of Emperor Aldric’s regard, the exact phrasing of his praise.

When Hannah heard that Emperor Aldric had bid Fiona call him “Uncle Aldric,” her grin deepened, the gears of calculation clicking quietly behind her eyes.

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