Chapte 116
It Might Be Fate
“I will not be meeting that man again. I’ll be leaving soon, so please don’t worry, Madam.”
Deep lines formed between Margaret’s brows as she looked straight at Olivia.
Her calm eyes carried no hint of falsehood—only clarity.
It felt almost as if she were facing an entirely different person. That fact left Margaret deeply unsettled.
On the day she first met her grandson’s bride…
The girl’s lips had fumbled clumsily like a child not yet grown, her eyes darting about, unable to rise or lower her gaze. That pitiful display had been unbearably humiliating.
When mocking giggles spread around them, her blood boiled. That defective thing is the granddaughter-in-law the Queen has thrust upon us?
And yet, how different she seemed now.
Sitting upright, speaking her mind with conviction, the young woman exuded a noble dignity, no less than the princess of Kranz sitting beside her.
Margaret quickly smoothed the strange sense of defeat spreading across her face.
“If you intend to leave, I will not press the matter further. But in return, you must make me a vow.”
“I’ll decide after hearing what kind of vow it is.”
Olivia’s dignified reply left Margaret incredulous.
Winning some tournament, dragging a princess of Britt into court… now she seemed to have nothing left to fear.
Even if the process was disgraceful, perhaps blood really cannot be ignored.
Margaret briefly considered Olivia’s lineage. But still—an illegitimate child was nothing more than that.
Reaching a clear conclusion, Margaret parted her wrinkled lips.
“You were once the Duchess of Leopold. Do not bring disgrace to that title.”
Her contemptuous gaze was commanding, the same arrogance Johann himself often displayed.
“Any behavior or words that would harm your reputation—especially that tennis. Do not engage in it again.”
Olivia’s smooth forehead knit slightly.
“Conduct yourself properly in all things. I don’t want to see your name in the papers ever again. My point is, do not tarnish Johann’s honor and reputation because of you. Do you understand?”
Her sharp, narrowing eyes struck like a predator cornering its prey.
“Madam—”
“Stay out of this, Princess. This is my family’s affair.”
Margaret dismissed Irene without even looking at her.
Irene forced down her irritation.
“Then allow me to say one thing, Madam.”
Lowering her gaze for a moment to gather her thoughts, Olivia then looked Margaret in the eye.
Though the old woman’s glare was fierce, Olivia’s eyes held firm and unwavering.
“I intend to live my own life. In that process, the name of the Duke of Leopold has been brought up, and for that I sincerely apologize. But when rumors spread without my consent, I too am a victim.”
“You need only avoid giving cause for them.”
“I don’t wish to give up what I want to do out of fear of that. To me, what I want to achieve is more precious than honor or dignity.”
“How dare you. You’ve even learned to talk back now.”
Margaret scoffed, as if amused by her audacity.
“Indeed, I must have demanded too much from a lowborn girl who doesn’t even understand what honor and dignity are. You can’t protect what you’ve never known. Since you said you’ll be leaving, then vanish to some place where no word of you will ever reach me. Just don’t become an obstacle to Johann’s future.”
Margaret’s cold gaze pierced Olivia. But Olivia only responded with a composed smile.
“That is precisely what I wish as well.”
She wanted to disappear completely from Johann Leopold’s life—so that he could meet Clara, fall in love, and have his perfect ending.
“I only wish for him to find his fate.”
Her smile was as gentle as a spring breeze. Sunlight streamed across her pale cheeks and gathered faintly at the edge of her coral lips.
“Truly.”
The moment Margaret met those resolute eyes, she realized it. This girl’s heart was sincere.
That not even a grain of sand’s worth of feeling for her grandson remained.
And why Johann, who never once lost his rational judgment, had committed such madness as crossing the stormy sea.
Foolish boy.
The veins bulged on Margaret’s hand as she gripped her fan. She swiftly erased those newly defined truths from her mind. There was no need to show it outwardly.
“I’ll be leaving soon, so please don’t worry, Madam.”
Johann slowly tugged loose the neat knot of his tie.
His hand rose again to flick open a collar button. He felt he could finally breathe, and was about to move his steps when—
“I only wish for him to find his fate.”
“……”
Johann’s shoe, half in the light streaming from the balcony into the sitting room, drew back into shadow. In the dimness, his eyes deepened.
Fate.
The word brushed his back strangely.
He opened his clenched left hand.
There lay the marks where crystal glass shards had pierced his skin. The pain that had seared through the haze of liquor and sedatives.
He didn’t know what he was feeling, nor did he want to know. For fear that perhaps…
It might be love.
For fear that—only now—she might be his fate.
But she had said:
“I’ll be leaving soon.”
He didn’t like that. Not at all.
Johann buttoned his shirt again and straightened his dark blue tie.
Then he stepped forward, into the light where Olivia sat.
He crossed the parlor quietly and stopped dead.
In her lilac muslin dress, she looked like the subject of a luminous summer painting.
Just like the day he first met Olivia Blanchet. A memory he hadn’t even realized he’d kept unfurled like watercolor.
‘Ah… h-hello. My name is Olivia. O-Olivia Blanchet.’
The so-called temptress who had ensnared the Crown Prince with a shameless trap—her blue eyes had trembled faintly.
Even while thinking her loathsome and contemptible, he had reached out his hand. Lowered his lips to her cold, stiff knuckles.
‘…Thank you.’
She had wept then. Like a child unable to contain her feelings with dignity.
She hadn’t even realized another hell was beginning. Only thanked him for freeing her from the Blanchet household.
Words that should never have been heard from a defective girl bartered for a title—so Johann had simply dismissed her feelings.
“I only wish for him to find his fate.”
Johann’s hand rose again toward his tightened tie.
That was when the woman in the picture moved. Their eyes met in the clear autumn sunlight.
Fate.
As the word echoed in his mind, Johann began to move—toward the woman who might be his fate.
“Come here, Olivia.”
Like a beast guarding its young, Johann growled low at Margaret.
His threatening gaze spared no one.
Insolent brat.
Margaret was so exasperated she couldn’t even laugh.
“I told you to come here.”
With an impatient lift of his brow, Johann turned his eyes to Olivia, who sat unmoving.
Margaret and Irene’s gazes followed his.
“The one you should escort is not me, but Madam Wellington. She was just about to rise.”
Olivia’s calm tone carried a gentle smile.
Margaret was appalled at the sight of her foolish grandson staring blankly at Olivia.
Worse still—that Olivia so coldly rejected the feelings plainly written across Johann’s face.
Her words—that she no longer had any feelings for him—were now laid bare. Yet for some reason, Margaret felt as though her pride had been trampled into the mud.
Idiot boy!
She clicked her tongue inwardly.
Of her daughter’s children, Johann resembled her the most.
Soft platinum hair, delicate features shadowed with melancholy, slender and graceful fingers.
Perhaps that was why she clung to him so. So that, unlike her daughter who died young, Johann might live a happy life.
And in such a life, a lowborn bastard had no place.
“I must be going.”
Margaret rose without further words. She had no reason to watch this wretched scene any longer.
“Help me up, will you? My joints are giving me trouble.”
She extended her arm toward Johann, who still couldn’t take his eyes off Olivia.
Only then did he turn to her, expressionless.
Olivia and Irene rose and gave their courtesies.
As Johann supported her, Margaret turned and whispered in his ear:
“Do you know what the most pathetic sight in the world is? A man clinging to the skirts of a woman who no longer loves him. Nothing is more pitiful or contemptible.”
“……”
At the passage connecting the parlor to the guest chambers, Johann halted.
He glanced back over his shoulder.
As if she had been staring all along, his eyes met hers. Startled, she quickly looked away.
He wanted to turn back immediately and go to her. But—
“Behave with dignity, Johann.”
He looked down at eyes that mirrored his own, set in an impassive face.
Her gaze was firm, resolute.
He had to settle matters here first.
