My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9 Lingering Glance

Chapter 9 Lingering Glance

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“I just picked some wild berries a moment ago. They’re quite sweet, so I thought I’d bring some over for you both to try.” Callum spoke with a touch of awkwardness, his eyes darting away almost as soon as they’d landed on Fiona.

“Thank you, Callum.” Naomi accepted them happily. She had grown used to the finest delicacies the estate could provide, yet a taste of something fresh and simple from the wild always carried a charm of its own.

After a brief pause, Callum asked, “The young lady sharing your carriage–who is she?”

Naomi answered at once, “That’s Fiona, the daughter of the Niven family. She’s traveling with

me.”

Callum’s brow knitted together. It’s her, Fiona.

He knew of her, of course, but most of his impressions came from distant glimpses across crowded gatherings. Even at the Zonfrillo Estate the other day, he hadn’t seen her face clearly. He’d always assumed she was an ordinary girl of little note. No wonder, he thought now, the Niven Estate had the audacity to put forward another daughter after Rita. It was because Fiona’s beauty gave them courage.

“If anything happens, call me,” he told Naomi with a careful, protective tone. After offerir warning, he let the carriage curtain fall back into place.

Naomi divided the berries between them, smiling. “Callum may look a bit fierce, but in truth, he’s the kindest person.”

Fiona nodded in agreement. In her previous life, Callum had shown her genuine care and had always treated his wife and children with fairness and warmth. Honest, loyal, and upright, he had left her with a deep and lasting respect.

Halfway along the road, Naomi began to grow drowsy, her head drooping as she slipped into a light nap.

Fiona, however, could not rest. She had only eaten two of the berries, which had done little more than stir her appetite. The craving for more lingered.

Outside the carriage, she could still hear the steady hoofbeats of Callum’s horse pacing alongside.

Fiona leaned closer to the curtain, lifting one corner slightly, and asked in a soft voice, “Mr. Callum, do they have these berries at the hunting grounds too?”

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14:36 Fri, Oct 10

Chapter 9 Lingering Glance

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But the man riding beside her carriage was not Callum. It was her former husband, Soren.

To ears already inclined to suspicion, her question could easily sound like something more–a contrived excuse to start a conversation.

Soren turned his head, his gaze falling on the shifting curtain. The wind tugged lightly at the fabric, lifting it just enough for him to catch glimpses of the hand that had pulled it aside. Sometimes visible, sometimes hidden, the pale, graceful fingers looked almost boneless, teasing in their fleeting appearance.

Fiona added quickly, her voice light and flattering, “If there aren’t any, may I trouble you for some more? I’ve always heard you’re generous and kindhearted, Mr. Callum, and that gave me the courage to ask. I’ll be sure to repay you in the future.”

Repayment–such a word was laden with implication. Between men and women, it could mean many things, flirtation not least among them. Coming from a woman who had once dared to annotate a book on intimacy, it could hardly be taken as innocent.

Soren narrowed his eyes. For Fiona to play coy tricks like this within the Zonfrillo family’s walls, she either lacked sense or believed herself untouchable.

When she heard no answer, Fiona thought perhaps her words had gone unheard. She lifted the curtain a little higher, and only then did she realize it was not Callum but Soren who kept pace with her carriage.

He sat astride a tall horse, his fitted riding coat tracing the long lines of his frame. His posture was proud, his bearing austere and noble, and his gaze fixed directly on her.

It wasn’t surprising, though. He had always cherished Naomi. With dangers possible along the road, it was natural for him to remain close. She had imagined they might cross paths during this autumn hunt, but only from afar. Never had she expected to find herself a mere breath away, close enough to read the sharp scrutiny written on his face.

Sitting within the carriage, Fiona lowered her eyes and offered a formal bow. “Greetings, Lord

Soren.”

Even hindered by the carriage’s narrow space and the jostle of wheels, the grace in her movements was undeniable. Beauty often carried through every small gesture.

But beauty alone was no guarantee of favor. Especially not the beauty of a woman thought fickle.

“Ms. Fiona,” Soren said at last, his tone cool, “were you truly only asking about berries?”

Fiona hesitated, uncertain of his meaning.

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