My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 73

Chapter 73 Secret Currents

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A faint line gathered between Soren’s brows, so slight it almost disappeared when he blinked.

Women who adore children often do so for one simple reason–they have already been

mothers once.

If Fiona had carried a child in the life he half–remembered, that child could only have been his.

Yet those earlier memories lay blurred, a distant shoreline lost in fog. He refused to let ghostly possibilities rewrite the path he walked now.

For the moment, he kept Fiona close because her eerie foresight proved useful–nothing

more.

The night before she was to meet the Divine Doctor, Fiona intended to discuss last–minute details with Soren. She climbed to the Clear Sky Pavilion only to find the doorway barred by Harriet.

“Lord Soren is at the Thankerton Estate today and cannot break away,” Harriet said gently.

Fiona paused, thoughts clicking into place. Of course, the Zonfrillo family must be formalizing Soren’s engagement to Roxanne. The groom–to–be would have no time for anything else just now.

“Please see that Lord Soren receives this letter,” Fiona said, holding out a folded sheet.

Securing the Divine Doctor’s help would take more than one conversation. Even so, attitude mattered. She wanted Soren to see she had pushed every door open on his behalf.

After all, she had come here of her own accord. If something went wrong, no one could claim she had been idle.

Harriet studied her for a moment, then turned on a heel. “Follow me.”

Fiona trailed the maid into a narrow, lamplit corridor that ended at a concealed door. Harriet stopped. “Inside, Ms. Fiona.”

Caution pricked the back of Fiona’s neck, yet she stepped closer.

Harriet guessed the uncase and smiled. “Lord Soren is meeting a guest today. Best he not be seen with you. This is his private chamber for negotiations, so I cannot enter. Write your letter and leave it on the desk.

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10:24 Sat, Oct 11

Chapter 73 Secret Currents

Guest from afar? Who could need such secrecy–and why keep me away?

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She pushed the door and slipped inside. A steady hush of water drifted down from overhead, almost like rain trapped behind stone.

The chamber lay beneath the surface of a stream–an underwater vault hidden by flowing channels installed afterward.

Only estates of princes and high nobles built such an artifice, which meant the river above her head could belong to one place alone. She now stood somewhere beneath the heart of the Zonfrillo Estate.

Fiona’s breath hitched. The secret corridor was no ordinary escape hatch. It wound beneath the residence like a master artisan’s signature–intricate, seamless, invisible. A place where grain or weapons might be hidden without a whisper reaching daylight.

Put bluntly, such a tunnel felt designed for rebellion, not convenience.

Why Soren had brought her here remained a knot she could not unknot, and she dared not tug at it any harder.

Had she known he had already guessed her former life, she would have realized he was probing to see how many of yesterday’s secrets she still carried.

On the study desk lay books and paintings he had perused; not a speck of dust clung to them. Clearly, he had visited recently.

Brush and ink waited nearby. After she finished her note, her gaze snagged on a poetry volume propped at the center.

It was the very

river–a than ection she had gifted Soren after he dragged her, half–drowned, from the

river–a thank–you offered with extravagant generosity.

The

pages were now softened and splayed, proof they had been opened over and over. She had never read it herself; curiosity tugged, and she opened it.

One glance, and color flooded her cheeks. This was no poetry anthology but the bridal

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