My Unchosen Ex Chases Reborn Me (Soren and Fiona) novel Chapter 98

Chapter 98 Subtle Games

Chapter 98 Subtle Games

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Soren cast Zephyr a measured glance but said nothing, the silence sliding between them like a blade kept sheathed out of respect.

Fiona offered a grateful nod, her voice gentle. “Thank you, Zephyr.”

Never one to outshine the host, Zephyr allowed himself, Cornelius, and Soren to withdraw to a discreet corner suite on the second floor.

When Fiona and Lilith pushed open the lacquered door with a tray of pastries, Lilith’s cheeks brightened to a startled rose. She hovered by the threshold, unable to lift her gaze.

“Our estate’s pastry chef prepared these earlier today,” Fiona explained, setting the porcelain plate upon the low table. “I hope you might find them worth a taste.”

Cornelius shared longstanding ties with Fiona’s uncle Zachary. Though recent rumors surrounding Matthew had sown a seed of doubt in his mind, blood remained blood; he accepted the pastries with impeccable courtesy.

Soren’s voice, cool and even, formed a simple word of thanks before evaporating like breath on winter glass.

Zephyr leaned forward, elbows resting lightly on his knees. “I have heard you are good at brewing tea. Might I trouble you for a pot?”

The request would steal precious minutes, and Fiona’s schedule already bulged with duties; a shadow of uncertainty crossed her eyes.

Cornelius drew his brows together. “Zephyr, why trouble Fiona?”

Yet Zephyr merely kept his gaze on Fiona, smiling with patient confidence, silently wagering she would relent.

Fiona’s mind raced. If she agreed, Cornelius would feel dismissed; if she refused, Zephyr might take offense. She balanced on that knife–edge, mouth half open in search of neutral ground. Before a syllable escaped, Soren’s quiet baritone cut through the tension.

“Ms. Fiona has a full docket today. Tea can wait for another occasion,” Soren said, his pace unhurried.

He did not bother to meet her eyes; the sentence felt as impersonal as a ledger entry, yet it sliced cleanly through the moment.

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10:33 Sat, Oct 11

Chapter 98 Subtle Games

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Fiona seized the lifeline with grateful grace. “If you crave tea, Zephyr, the Niven residence is always open to you. For now, I must attend to the rest of the banquet.”

Zephyr’s smile thinned, but he let the matter drop.

On their way out, Lilith ventured one backward glance. Soren’s peripheral gaze captured her like a flick of steel; startled, she yanked her eyes forward and hurried after her sister.

Long before the auctioneer lifted his tiny ebony gavel, a fresh tide of merchants drifted into Crane Tower. Their silk sleeves rustled with coin, but their true currency was ambition. They weren’t here for art alone. A well–placed bid might stitch their names to a powerful household, and in this city, a fortune meant little without a patron. Because of that unspoken calculation, every young lady’s handiwork–no matter how modest–always drew at least one offer of a thousand silver coins.

Then Spring’s Promise appeared. Roxanne’s needle had conjured no blossoms, no greening fields, but the last thaw of winter itself: slabs of ice half–melted, snow dissolving into rivulets, and a scattered wedge of geese breaking through pale sky. The subtle vision sent a hush rippling across the hall–a collective breath taken at the very edge of a new season.

Fiona’s lips parted in quiet awe. What a perfect portrait of winter’s dying sigh.

Zephyr flicked open his folding fan, bone ribs gleaming under lantern light. “By letting winter’s barrenness frame spring’s first heartbeat, she’s found a clever angle,” he said, voice lazy yet precise. “As expected of Ms. Roxanne. Care to follow, Soren?“.

The comment floated toward the tall figure seated beside him–Soren.

At once, paddles shot up across the floor, prices leap–frogging. The fever spilled beyond carved balustrades; spectators jammed the streets around Crane Tower, craning for a glimpse through open lattice windows.

A final cry closed the contest at two thousand gold coins.

Serena leaned closer, voice barely above the table’s candle–flicker. “Who do you think secured

it?”

Fiona’s gaze slid to the shadowed corner box on the second tier. The winner had to be inside that private room–either Soren or Cornelius. Perhaps the two men had waged a silent duel no

one else could see.

The hunger for victory that burns between men, she reflected, often defies logic.

Serena attempted a smile, though tension pinched the edges of her mouth.

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10:33 Sat, Oct 11

Chapter 98 Subtle Games

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A sudden stir: Soren descended the staircase. An attendant whispered urgently in his ear; without hesitation, he turned and left the building.

Roxanne watched him go, unreadable thoughts flickering in her eyes.

The next lot was Fiona’s own composition. Inked on cream parchment, her poem breathed of spring’s rebirth: “East winds rouse the sleeping bloom, timid willow buds still test the lingering chill… warblers test their song, swallows bring first gossip–till a thousand hues burst at once.” She closed with a gentle admonition: “Do not squander tomorrow’s sun; each inch of light is a leaf newly born.” The calligraphy slashed bold and sure, giving muscle to delicate verse.

Yes, spring’s joy was a familiar theme, yet her keen eye and vigorous strokes kept it from feeling trite.

“Two thousand gold coins,” Zephyr announced, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

The opening sum cracked like thunder. Gasps rippled across benches; even Fiona’s brow tightened. Her poem, she knew, was never worth such extravagance.

She looked at Zephyr. His posture remained aristocratically languid, but assurance radiated from him like heat off summer stone.

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