Reborn to Flee My Fiance's Obsession (Fiona and Soren) novel Chapter 256

Chapter 256 Gathering Storm

Chapter 256 Gathering Storm

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“Prince Cornelius‘ devotion to her is evident,” Fiona said, a mild smile rising. “Anyone would envy such affection.”

Zephyr’s grin widened, confidence swelling. He cast a fleeting glance at Xavier–as though measuring a rival–and dismissed him just as quickly.

Tilting his head, Zephyr gestured toward Fiona’s clasped hands. “What do you have there?”

Nestled in her palm lay bright–wrapped candies meant for Lilith. “A gift from Roxanne,” she explained, letting the colored paper catch the light.

With practiced ease, Zephyr plucked one sweet from her hand. Declining would have made a scene, so she let it go.

The prince nipped the candy free of its wrapping and let the sugar dissolve on his tongue. “Sweets from Fiona taste better than anyone else’s,” he declared. “Sweet–just like you.”

Xavier’s brow tightened, a shadow crossing his usually placid eyes.

Not far away, Soren–half hidden among cedar trunks—also frowned, though no one noticed.

Zephyr turned back to Fiona. “I haven’t seen you visit Florence lately. She thinks of you often while confined to the palace.”

The eagerness in his tone exposed more than courtesy; he was courting favor, and impatient for her answer.

Fiona’s lashes lowered as a whisper of warning curled through her mind.

I must be careful around him… In the previous life, after Father was demoted and the Zonfrillo family weakened because of Duke Zonfrillo’s injuries, Zephyr’s prospects dimmed. Cornered, he tried to force a marriage with me to win the backing of Granny and Prince Jinks, except they were already on Prince Cornelius‘ side. Even if he had coerced me, nothing he desired would have followed. Had Soren not returned and accepted our engagement, Zephyr might have succeeded. A declining second branch of the Niven house could hardly refuse a prince, and he’d have also threatened me with Father’s safety. Yet why did Soren—who scarcely cared for me—agree to the match the moment Zephyr closed in?

Aloud, she answered with cool brightness, “Father’s returning to Jexburgh soon. Until then, my days are full.” The smile she offered felt like sunlight after rain, impossible to fault.

Zephyr nodded, feigning sudden revelation. “Since Mr. Niven will be home soon, I ought to pay a visit then.”

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9:26 Sat, Nov 8

Chapter 256 Gathering Storm

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Fiona offered only a distant smile. When her gaze drifted to Xavier, she caught the faint shadow of displeasure tightening his jaw. The moment flickered like cold light between them.

Naomi moved in with confident strides, her skirt whispering across the stone path. “Zephyr, what gossip are you trading with Fiona?” she asked, half–teasing, half–protective.

Fiona lifted her head, sunlight slipping across her lashes, and saw Naomi at the front of the small party. Behind Naomi stood Soren, his expression carved from ice, and trailing him in careful, measured steps was Hillary, her eyes still rimmed in red.

Zephyr, still half lost in his own thoughts, chuckled. “I was merely catching up with Fiona,” he said, voice light as wind over wine. “Why so tense, Naomi? Were you a man, people would swear you fancied your dear cousin.”

Naomi’s posture–the slight lift of her chin, the guarded set of her shoulders–was nothing but an echo of what she believed Soren wanted.

Earlier, from a distance, Naomi had watched Zephyr stride toward Fiona; she had noticed Soren’s eyes narrow, a rare flash of displeasure from a man who seldom betrayed any tilt of feeling. “Zephyr, will you ride back with us?” she asked, her tone polite yet edged with warning.

Zephyr deliberated for a heartbeat, then merely shrugged and stepped into the Zonfrillo family’s carriage.

Soren let his gaze brush over Fiona twice. He wanted–desperately to urge her away from Zephyr, yet fear of repelling her glued his boots to the ground.

He had never imagined there would come a day when he would fret over being the man people found annoying. On his face, however, not a ripple stirred; to the world, he remained unreadable stone.

Inside the carriage, Hillary sat primly, hands folded in her lap. Occasionally, she stole a glance at Soren, who stared out the window, profile cut like a sculpture favored by the Mother- Goddess–sharp and impossibly handsome. His jade coronet and scarlet robe seemed to bleed royal light. She could not help wondering how magnificent he would look on the morning he became a groom.

And, secretly, whom fortune would choose to take his arm that day.

Zephyr’s nose twitched. “You’ve had more than a few drinks today,” he observed, half chiding, half amused.

Soren offered no reply. He simply closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of the wheels mask the refusal.

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9.26 Sat, Nov 8

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