My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 34

Chapter 34 Spilled Ink

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After several beats of hesitation, Fiona finally drew a breath and asked the question that mattered most. “Where is Mr. Callum?”

She had decided–against her usual caution–to plead for the maid’s sake.

Hope lifted a trembling finger toward the bend in the gravel path. “Take that corner. A pavilion waits just beyond it, and Mr. Callum is inside.”

Fiona’s voice softened, yet authority threaded every syllable. “If he asks what happened, tell him I bumped you and upset the ink. Say nothing more.”

Realization flashed across Hope’s face. She dropped to her knees on the moss–slick stones and bowed until her forehead touched them. “Ms. Fiona, I will never forget your kindness.”

Callum, who had turned the corner just in time to witness the scene, found himself oddly mute. Am I truly so unreasonable? I may run a strict camp, but at home, I do not flog servants at whim. What if Ms. Fiona now believes I am some heartless brute?

He then retreated to the pavilion. Barely a moment passed before Fiona’s figure appeared, light as a petal borne on a breeze.

She wore a gown of down–white silk, embroidered so finely it seemed frost had settled upon her skirts. A pale pink plum–blossom jewel gleamed on her brow, turning her wintery beauty playful and bright.

The sight made an unexpected heat crawl up Callum’s neck, and he had to glance away, suddenly shy.

“Mr. Callum,” she said, voice lilting as she executed a delicate curtsy.

Even the simple act of bending at the waist held a soft reserve, like a blossom folding at dusk.

Yet Callum knew this supposed blossom had claimed first place in the archery trials; beneath silk and grace lived sinew and steel.

He cleared his throat. “Ms. Fiona.”

Fiona folded her hands. “I have come to apologize. I bumped your maid, spilled her ink, and the fault is mine. Please do not punish her. I possess quality ink at home, and I will see it sent to you.”

Callum straightened, tone earnest. “Think nothing of it. I rarely punish those around me,

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14:43 Fri, Oct 10

Chapter 34 Spilled Ink

unless they betray their master. This is a trifle.”

He felt compelled to explain himself further, lest she assume he was a tyrant.

After all, he was no snarling beast.

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More than anything, he did not want Fiona’s first impression stained by fear. She was, after all, the only woman whose skill had ever earned his genuine respect–and, given the chance, he would welcome a friendly bout with bow or blade.

Their conversation drifted to polite pleasantries, and only later did Fiona realize he had never asked how she knew the maid belonged to him. Because he remained silent, she wisely let the point rest.

“Mr. Callum, may I ask one more favor? Please do not mention this meeting to Lord Soren. He might misread my intentions.”

Callum nodded. “Agreed. It remains between us.”

Looks like Soren worries far too much. Callum suddenly realized that in Fiona’s estimation, Soren still fell a step short of him.

The thought left a shy, almost boyish sweetness blooming in his chest, a taste he had not felt in

years.

In her previous life, Fiona had stood to Callum as a niece–in–law. Their private conversations had been scarce, but even then, she had known the stern façade hid a kind core. Grandmother should have chosen Callum. He is easier to approach, not so cold, and–most importantly–free of any childhood sweetheart. A man like that would make day–to–day life bearable. Yet I could never consider him. Because once, however briefly, he was my in–law. Anything more would feel perilously close to breaking the order of things.

She left the pavilion quickly, yet the faint, honey–light fragrance she carried seemed unwilling to fade from the night air.

Callum remained alone in the lakeside pavilion for a long while, listening to crickets sing against the bush of evening before he finally rose and headed toward Radiant Lodge, Soren’s

quarters.

Inside the lodge, Soren had stripped to the waist. A vicious slash ran two inches above the heart and an inch below the shoulder. Though tightly bandaged, fresh crimson still seeped through the linen, bright against his skin.

“That wound is no trifle. Why force yourself back so soon?” Callum asked, brow furrowed as he surveyed the dark stain spreading across the bandage.

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