“Don’t come in!” Annblin shrieked.
The hospital room door started to open, then paused before swinging wide. The person who appeared was none other than Crown Prince Alex.
“Are you all right?”
Annblin, who had been glaring at Alex, who had stopped in front of her, turned her head away. Outside, it was already dark. A nightmarish day that seemed like it would never end was passing. She decided to pull herself together and think about tomorrow. If she couldn’t have it, that woman wouldn’t either. If she couldn’t be happy, that woman would be miserable. She was determined to repay her in the cruelest way possible when Alex ordered her.
“I’ve contacted our aunt. Go to Luxen for a while.”
“…” Annblin finally looked at Alex. “What are you talking about? Why would I go there?”
“Edgar met with Chief Justice Carlos.”
The deal between Chief Justice Carlos and Edgar. The information came from an unknown source, but there was no room for doubt. She felt the prelude to a storm.
“What does that have to do with me?”
Alex sighed deeply. “He’s trying to bring you to trial.”
“…”
It was an outrageous statement.
“That’s a lie.” Annblin’s face twisted as she glared at her brother. If he had told her to lie low until the bad rumors died down, she would have agreed quickly.
“Do you think I’d believe that?”
“It doesn’t matter if you believe it, Ann. What matters is that Edgar is serious.”
“Why would he do that… to me?” Annblin bit her thumb and asked again.
“Abduction and confinement of Olivia Blanchett, and of Angela Burkin and Evangeline Seymour…”
“Stop!” Annblin yelled.
“Go to our aunt’s house.”
“I am the princess of this country. Why should I run away because I can’t stop some low-born illegitimate child? I refuse. I will not allow myself to be humiliated like that.”
Edgar wouldn’t do that. He might be cold, but he wasn’t a vile man. It had to be the work of Olivia Blanchett, that illegitimate child. Annblin imagined the scene of her wheedling and coaxing him. Her bloodshot amber eyes were sharp, as if glaring at something. Her fingertips were ragged, but Annblin kept chewing on them.
I won’t let her get away with this. Never.
“Stop it, Ann.” Unable to watch any longer, Alex grabbed his sister’s wrist. Annblin angrily slapped his hand away. She couldn’t hear a word he said. The image from the newspaper kept spinning in her mind: the face of the woman who embraced Edgar with a look of pure happiness, as if she had everything in the world.
I won’t be the only one who’s miserable.
“Stop him.”
That woman, and Edgar, will never be happy.
“You have to stop him, whatever it takes.”
Red blood began to ooze from Annblin’s fingertips. Alex quietly clenched his jaw and nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything harsh to the child they, his father and he, had failed to raise properly.
Olivia Blanchett, once called a shameless seductress, received a congratulatory message from Queen Katrina of Londos, who called her the “White Wolf of the Lawn.” It was the dawn of Olivia’s golden age.
Anne proudly watched Olivia wave to the crowd from the balcony behind her. Olivia stood on the balcony of the Dumblein Club, surrounded by lush greenery. As per the tournament tradition, she attended the balcony event with the men’s singles champion, holding the large golden trophy and waving lightly to the spectators.
Flashing lights burst all around, and people chanted Olivia’s name.
Anne was filled with an indescribable emotion. The young lady who had been withering away was now a dazzling sun.
You must be happy, Lady Elena?
Anne thought of Olivia’s mother, who was surely looking down from heaven.
Hasn’t she grown up beautifully, our young lady?
Olivia, in her brilliantly white dress, was elegant and beautiful. At least more beautiful than Princess Annblin. Anne had staked everything on dressing Olivia with all her heart. The result, of course, was satisfying.
Like sunlight sparkling on a white field of snow, Olivia was especially radiant today. Anne’s eyes welled up, and she wiped the moist corners with the back of her hand. Still unable to calm down, she fanned her flushed eyes, but her gaze never left Olivia.
By the way, why is the marquis so late?
Anne occasionally looked around, searching for Edgar.
Standing in the center of the balcony, Olivia was frozen by the crowd, something she had never experienced before. She barely managed to move her trembling eyes, gazing at the masses chanting her name. Once a symbol of disgrace, she was now the newly crowned queen of tennis. The crowd’s interest was fervent, just like the gap between her past and present.
Olivia raised the golden trophy she held in both hands over her head. It was a little heavy, but not unbearable.
As the cameras flashed, a deafening roar shook the sky and the ground, chanting her name once more across the vast sky.
To the new queen!
Olivia lifted her head at the deafening cheers. The hard-won victory, earned by her own strength in a strange world, shattered in the transparent sunlight of the summer morning and shone with glory.
Olivia’s heart fluttered like a small boat crossing the waves in a rough sea. She looked down at the balcony below with slightly heated eyes. She could hear the powerful thwack of the ball along with the cheers of the people. The green lawn court that had heated up the summer, the bright blue sky, and the white waves of the audience.
Olivia kissed the trophy.
Once again, the deafening cheers and endless camera flashes shook Dumblein, the sacred ground of tennis.
After the balcony event, Olivia took a commemorative photo with the men’s singles champion, Taylor Prairie. As they listened to the event coordinator explain that the photos would be displayed at the Dumblein Cricket & Tennis Club, the stadium, and the Tennis Museum, they tidied their outfits.
Soon, the photo shoot began.
As she changed her pose at the photographer’s request, Olivia stumbled. Taylor deftly caught her.
“Oh! Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Every time they moved, Taylor willingly offered his arm to Olivia, who was still recovering from her leg injury. He was a thorough gentleman who valued chivalry, even before being an excellent tennis player. Facing the subject of all the controversy so closely, Taylor had to admit that he had been prejudiced against the “shameless seductress.” Furthermore, Olivia Blanchett had beautifully shattered his theory that one’s arms and legs had to be as muscular as a horse’s to have any power. Along with his view that endurance was proportional to the circumference of one’s thigh muscles.
“Your matches were truly impressive. Every single one.” He said as the photographer changed the position of his tripod.
“You watched?” Olivia’s face lit up as she asked. Her clear blue eyes shone brightly. Embarrassed by her visible happiness, he stammered and changed the subject.
“Oh, well, kind of. But why haven’t you participated in the competition before?”
“That’s…” Olivia looked troubled. It was not a gentleman’s duty to put a lady in a difficult position. He was about to change the subject, feeling awkward that he had asked such a personal question when…
“Okay! This is the last one. Look here and smile widely, yes. Very good. You two. A little closer. Yes. Perfect.” The photographer requested a final pose. “One more time.”
The two held up the golden trophy with both hands and smiled a winning smile at the camera lens. Pop! A flash of light and a puff of smoke.
“Great! You all did well.”
It was the third time for him. He had no doubt that he would be taking a commemorative photo with Princess Annblin this year as well. It was as good as truth.
“…Will you be attending the party tonight with the Marquis of Lancelot?”
It was a question he would never have dared to ask a princess. It was the boldness spurred by the Marquis of Lancelot’s absence. Taylor, flustered by his own actions, babbled whatever came to mind.
“Oh! I didn’t mean to ask a difficult question. It’s just that I’ll be attending alone. If, by any chance, the Marquis of Lancelot has important business that prevents him from attending… In that case, please, give me the honor of accompanying you, Miss Blanchett…”
Taylor was rambling, with some sincerity in his words, when…
“Olivia.”
A refined baritone called her name. Olivia turned her head.
“Ed!”
Her clear voice rose in pitch.
Taylor’s expectations, which had soared like a wave crashing against the side of a ship, suddenly plummeted. She had vowed not to wait, but she couldn’t help but wait. And her waiting was finally properly rewarded.
Olivia looked at the man who was closing the distance between them with a flushed face. Edgar, also in a white suit, stopped in front of her. He smelled of fresh cologne.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
He lowered his head slightly and met Olivia’s eyes. When her eyes, which resembled a sky after the rain, were filled with him, she finally felt at ease.
“Is your foot a little better?”
“Much better.”
Edgar’s gaze slid down to Olivia’s foot. Her left foot, hidden by her skirt, showed only the pearl-colored tip of her shoe.
“Can you stay here a little longer?”
Edgar’s gentle voice had the power to compel a positive response. Olivia nodded with a smile.
“I’d like to take a picture with her.”
“…”
Edgar looked into Olivia’s eyes and asked the photographer.
“Is that possible?”
“Y-yes, of course.”
The photographer quickly gestured to his assistant. Film! Film! The assistant, who read the photographer’s lips, ran out of the Honors Hall.
“A picture… with me?” Olivia asked with a flustered expression.
