My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 29

Chapter 29 A Gift Declared

Chapter 29 A Gift Declared

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The remark hung in the doorway like a drawn blade. Though Xavier stood composed, Soren felt the edge of provocation slicing toward him.

“Lord Soren’s regret is no concern of mine,” Fiona responded from the threshold, her tone calm yet unwavering. “I care only for your feelings.”

“Even if Lord Soren were present this very moment, the bow would still be yours,” she added after a breath.

She had begun to weigh Xavier as a future husband. Naturally, her treatment of him had to stand apart.

Besides, the declaration would keep Xavier from suspecting any hidden affection toward

Soren.

Xavier gazed at Soren.

Seated within, Soren lifted his cup, sipping coffee with an expression carved from stone.

“So this is merely because I taught you archery, Ms. Fiona?” Xavier asked, eyebrows rising just enough to hint at mischief.

He looked every inch the gentleman, yet the glimmer in his eyes said he already knew the answer and delighted in demanding it.

Fiona recalled Princess Aurora’s teasing words–Xavier appeared mild in daylight but turned ruthless beneath the sheets, wickedness hidden under placid water.

Her ears burned, yet she kept the conversation proper. “Naturally, it is because you instructed me in mounted archery,” she said.

Xavier’s smile was small and crooked, the kind reserved for stories he did not believe.

The more he wore that look, the hotter Fiona’s cheeks grew; she felt the mortifying flutter of a girl whose secret had been read aloud.

Such tension between a lady and a gentleman could unravel the steadiest composure, Thankfully, Fiona was no naive maiden; her wits remained her own.

“You must have other business, Mr. Xavier. I shall take my leave,” she said.

“Give me a while,” Xavier replied. “Please wait in the front courtyard, Ms. Fiona. I will join you

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Chapter 29 A Gift Declared

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At his quiet plea. Fiona’s lashes fluttered, and a shy warmth colored her cheeks. I’ll wait for you, then, she whispered, the promise soft as spring rain.

Still carrying that faint blush, she looped her arm through Lilith’s and made for the front courtyard, skirts brushing dewy gravel in a measured hush of silk.

Navier stepped back into the study where lamplight pooled over carved mahogany. Soren waited there, and the conversation slid seamlessly to Matthew, neither man so much as brushing against the barbed exchange that had just passed.

“Mr. Saunders‘ ill–gotten silver sits three feet beneath the main house in Lakebourne, Xavier reported, voice low and precise. “Yet the watch on his father’s grave is uncommonly tight. I would wager more lies are buried there.”

Soren looked at him and asked, “Why not dig up the evidence yourself?”

“Because, Lord Soren, you have given no such order,” Xavier answered evenly.

Soren lifted one brow.

“First, Mr. James‘ impeachment scroll reached the palace only this morning. If we expose the treasure at once, tongues will claim you conspired with him. Second, Mr. Saunders is not your true quarry. We must let the fish believe the hook unbaited.”

Xavier knew the assignment itself was a quiet test of his reach and discretion.

Soren did not dispute the conclusion, yet he offered no further window into his plans.

Such was the order of ranks. Subordinates had to speak every truth they found, while the powerful veiled their intent behind polite silence.

Even so, to serve under a leader who recognized talent rather than pedigree felt like a rare

stroke of luck.

Soren brushed an imaginary wrinkle from his sleeve and rose to his feet. “You have an engagement waiting. We shall leave matters here for today.”

Right then, Xavier uttered, “Ms. Fiona is giving Glowstrike to me. Does that not trouble you, Lord Soren?”

Soren’s eyes drifted to the bow resting on the desk. It matched the weapon from his dream in every cruel angle and gleam, proof enough that the dream had found its way into daylight, yet

he refused to let omens steer him.

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Chapter 29 A Gift Declared

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“Glowstrike belongs to Ms. Fiona,” Soren said lightly. “If she wishes to part with it, why should I take offense?”

“I hope you will always feel that way,” Xavier replied in an even tone.

Being questioned a third time about his feelings for Fiona tugged at a strand of Soren’s patience.

His eyes cooled, lips flattening into what might have been a smile on a colder planet, and without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

In the front courtyard, Fiona crouched beside Victoria, pressing young orchid shoots into fresh soil.

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