Reborn to Flee My Fiance's Obsession (Fiona and Soren) novel Chapter 258

r 258 Misplaced Jealousy

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Even if Soren had no true affection for Zephyr’s target, no one–least of all a proud man like Soren–could tolerate such humiliation. Wounded pride explained why, despite the marriage’s duration, he still refused to set foot in Radiant Lodge.

Alas, Fiona realized it far too late. Whenever she let Zephyr’s name slip, Soren’s gaze grew wintry, and every conversation shriveled to silence. The memory that hurt most unfolded on a night of tangled linens. They were still undressed, heat pulsing between them, when she casually asked whether he had gone to see Zephyr that afternoon.

The question hit like sleet. Blood drained from his face; the slight hardness stirring against her thigh vanished. He pulled away, turned his back, and said in a voice colder than stone, “Sleep.”

At that time, Fiona wondered if he no longer found her attractive. Shame burned her throat. In their world, a husband’s chill was a slap no woman could ignore.

Determined not to cry, she whispered, “If Lord Soren does not wish for children, you can sleep in the study.”

He shot her a glance. “Winter has come, and the study is cold.”

“Then I will sleep in there instead,” she answered, forcing a smile brittle as frost.

His expression remained carved in stone. He dressed without a word and left, the door clicking shut on the last ember of warmth.

Ironically, after weeks of archery lessons, the distance between them had begun to thaw, but one careless mention of Zephyr sent it plunging back into shadow.

She wondered whether he believed she had only been fishing for news of the prince.

Xavier studied Fiona, the edges of his focus blurred by surprise.

He had not expected the truth to be so wildly, embarrassingly simple.

Fiona let out a small sigh. Perhaps the misunderstandings between Soren and me once ran deeper than I ever guessed, but today, those ghosts can wait.

“Mr. Xavier, I need a favor. Find a formidable fighter, someone outside the court’s reach, and send him to Southmere to rescue a person.”

With that, she set a fat cloth bundle on the table. “This is the payment.”

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9:27 Sat, Nov 8

Chapter 258 Misplaced Jealousy

Fiona trusted neither officials nor hired strangers. Only Xavier had earned that faith.

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In her previous life, after her father’s disgrace, she and Meryl had returned to Southmere and saved a young gentleman. Something about him still tugged at her future.

“Very well,” Xavier said after a long, thoughtful pause.

“Leave no trace,” she added. “In all honesty, I never even saw his face, so he may not belong to Duflana at all.”

“I will locate him, Ms. Fiona. As for the money, you can take it back.”

“What, will your entire salary end up subsidizing me?” she joked, eyes sparkling.

“I have other ways to earn coin,” Xavier replied, matching her smile with quiet steadiness.

“Tell me, Mr. Xavier, is it only my imagination, or have you devoted yourself entirely to me since you were reborn? Whatever kindness I once showed could never merit such loyalty. All I ask is that, in this life, you live for yourself,” Fiona said firmly.

Warmth prickled behind Xavier’s sternum, laced with a stubborn ache. Fiona’s words echoed like church bells in the winter air. Live for myself, huh?

“Second chances do not come to everyone, so we must treasure ours. When we are old and gray, our tales will outshine the rest. You must cherish yourself, Mr. Xavier. You don’t always have to live life on the edge.”

Fiona knew that hunting bandits in Junbert or scouting grain in Brorchester could kill even a man who had lived once before.

“Reaching old age feels impossibly distant,” Xavier murmured.

“We will both live a long and happy life,” Fiona said with unwavering conviction.

Xavier looked at her and allowed himself a single, quiet wish: if they truly lived that long, he would spend every day beside her.

Xavier’s voice was low and steady, the words chosen with almost reverent care. “I will do my

best.”

Fiona couldn’t help but wonder if brushing past death had carved a fault line inside her. The phrase live a long and happy life felt fragile now, as though tomorrow were nothing more than

a rumor.

She stepped toward the courtyard gate. Xavier’s hand lifted, half–formed into an embrace,

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