Chapter 86
Chapter 86: Noah's Anxiety
When Prince Noah disappeared, Methone quickly led Olivia away.
Olivia straightened her back and walked slowly. Methone looked back at her several times.
Even he was becoming anxious. Isabel Seymour's rude behavior was clearly unpleasant, the Prince's gaze had been chilling, and no one approached her.
Yet Olivia was calm, as if she had expected this.
Olivia smiled at Methone, who kept looking back at her.
"Methone, you don't need to worry about me."
"Yes? Ah, no, that's not it."
Methone was flustered by her unexpected words. Olivia turned her gaze away from him, looked straight ahead, and whispered even more softly.
"So, Methone, don't show your impatience either."
"Ah… I'm sorry."
"Thank you for hiring Winifred as my teacher. Though it was short, I learned a lot from her."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
As she maintained her calm demeanor, the sensitivity of Methone, who was standing beside her, was gently smoothed out.
When they reached the middle of the hallway and felt someone approaching from behind, Olivia straightened her back a little more and adjusted her posture.
"The high-nosed nobles of the capital distinguish themselves even from the nobles of the provinces. Be wary of those who approach you intimately from the beginning, and don't bother trying to approach them first. Instead, you must maintain a calm and relaxed attitude. In aristocratic society, the best shield is a calm demeanor."
Olivia recalled Winifred's advice and tried to maintain a calm and relaxed attitude.
The behavior of the noble ladies who didn't want to approach her was nothing. What bothered her more was the woman named Isabel who had handed Noah the Mallet.
"I usually handed it to him."
Olivia's black eyes sank like the deep sea.
Was she his lover?
Yes, his marriage was for purely political reasons, so he might have had a lover before marrying Olivia herself.
But strangely, the thought made her heart ache.
But there was no reason to dig into his past. Frankly, she wasn't even sure if she had the right to.
Feeling as if the abyss was pulling at her shoulders, Olivia shook her head.
'It's a question with no answer.'
With each step, Olivia tried to erase Isabel's existence from her mind. And when she could see the vast lawn far away, Olivia succeeded in pushing Isabel out of her mind.
Noah skillfully rode his pony, lightly warming up. Usually, when he warmed up like this, the distracting thoughts that filled his head would disappear, and he would feel refreshed.
But today, instead of feeling refreshed, his chest felt heavy.
His gaze kept turning to the stands.
Noticing Noah's uneasy state of mind, his pony neighed and pawed the ground with its front hooves.
Soon, Count Ludwig, who was in charge of the refereeing, rode out on a black horse, and Noah went to his position. His right hand, holding the Mallet, stiffened.
"Gentlemen, let's wait a little longer for the ladies to come out."
Ignoring Count Ludwig's words, Noah lightly patted the neck of his constantly neighing horse. Even as he did so, his gaze was fixed on the stands.
The sound of the wind whistling past his ears was deafening.
How long had he been standing there?
Someone opened the door to the stands and appeared.
In an instant, the deafening sound of the wind disappeared. Noah stared intently at his wife, who was walking into the sunlight, forgetting to breathe.
Perhaps none of the noble ladies had offered to guide Olivia here, as only Methone was by her side.
As if the image of her wandering alone in a maze shrouded in darkness was etched into his mind, Noah occasionally saw Olivia from that day superimposed on her.
Methone led her to the best seat, and Olivia sat there. Once seated, Olivia looked around at the players and then looked directly at Noah.
He could see her elegant face brighten. Then she said something to Methone, who was standing beside her. She was probably telling him that she had found him.
'There he is!'
It was as if he could hear her bright voice.
Noah's nerves, which had been as sharp as a blade, dulled at that moment, and a smile crept onto his lips. Only then could he exhale the breath he had been holding in.
But a moment later, Noah's smile disappeared as if it had been a lie.
Because Isabel Seymour, who appeared next, took a seat next to Olivia.
"May I sit here, Princess Consort?"
Isabel asked softly. Olivia replied with a smile.
"Of course."
Isabel carefully sat next to her. Then, the scent of cologne spread to the tip of her nose. Olivia quietly smelled the scent and looked straight ahead.
As the noble ladies who had rushed out took their seats one by one, the whistle blew and the game began.
Methone looked at the Prince, who was staring intently at Olivia, and then glanced at Isabel, who was sitting next to Olivia.
Now his role was to prevent Isabel from saying anything unnecessary to Olivia in advance.
"Princess Consort, I'll briefly explain the rules of the game..."
"Prince Noah usually plays as the number 1 striker, the frontmost player. The number 1 player works closely with the number 2 player next to him to put the ball into the opponent's goal. Oh, His Highness has the ball now."
Isabel interrupted Methone and spoke to Olivia. She was smiling brightly and looking at Noah.
"Ah, unfortunately, the ball didn't go in. His Highness seems very disappointed. He doesn't look happy."
Olivia slowly turned her head and looked at Isabel.
"Polo is the sport that His Highness likes the most. Usually, after the game, he drinks two cocktails in the main room."
Only then did Isabel look at Olivia.
Staring into her clear black eyes, Isabel whispered softly.
"He always drinks the same thing."
"His Highness always accepted the cocktails that the Young Lady brought him without saying a word, as if he liked the taste."
As the noble ladies next to Isabel subtly chimed in, Isabel smiled lightly and nodded.
Methone felt like the future was bleak. He had to intervene, but how?
A round table where business was discussed was better; there was no room to join in the socialite conversation where people smiled and stabbed each other.
"I'll tell you what kind of cocktail it is later."
The noble ladies covered their mouths and looked at the Princess Consort. They were trying to catch even the slightest expression. A polo match was in full swing in front of them, but no one was interested in it.
It would be fun if the Princess Consort distorted her face or said "Thank you" like a fool. Everyone was looking at Olivia with that in mind.
But the next moment, the words that flowed from the Princess Consort's lips were unexpected.
"I'll ask His Highness myself."
At her answer, Isabel smiled even more brightly, hiding her feelings.
"He doesn't like being asked things or having to explain things two or three times. That's why I'm trying to tell you."
"That's why I'm going to ask him."
"……."
As the smile disappeared from Isabel's face, Olivia smiled and said.
"Earlier, the Young Lady recommended His Highness's Mallet to me. But today, His Highness went out with a different Mallet."
"……."
"So, whether it's a cocktail or anything else, if it's related to His Highness, I'll ask him myself. I appreciate the Young Lady's kindness."
"……."
Her black eyes, which she had thought were only clear, seemed as dark as the deep sea. Isabel bit her inner cheek hard.
Because she had nothing more to say in front of the Prince's rightful Princess Consort.
Olivia slowly took her gaze away from Isabel. Her heart was pounding so hard that she was afraid it would burst.
When she finally turned her head, Olivia met a pair of deep green eyes.
Noah was riding his horse towards her.
"Your Highness!!"
Lawrence, the number 2 player, called out to Noah as he sent the ball towards him with all his might. Noah rarely missed a ball. It was thanks to his superior physical abilities.
But today, he was not concentrating on the game like someone who was distracted by something.
The ball that Lawrence sent passed by Noah and flowed backwards, and an opposing player who had been waiting for an opportunity took the ball.
Lawrence distorted his face and turned his horse's head.
But Noah, who should have followed immediately, stopped alone and didn't move.
"Ah, why is he doing that?!"
"Looks like he's worried."
At Lawrence's grumbling, Iel gestured towards the stands.
Indeed, as he said, Noah's gaze was fixed on the stands, where Isabel Seymour and the Princess Consort were facing each other.
Noah took a slow breath as he watched them. He felt a foreign object stuck in his chest. This moment was much more uncomfortable than when he had faced countless crowds and the media.
What on earth was she saying to Olivia?
How sharp were the eyes of those women surrounding Olivia?
He couldn't relax because it was like watching a child left out in the water. The vast lawn, where only the sound of horses breathing and the rough impact were everything, did not give him joy as much as it did today.
Eventually, Noah handed his Mallet to Count Ludwig, who had approached him.
"James, you hit it for me today."
"Yes?"
"The Princess Consort's health isn't very good. I'll take her away first, so hit it for me instead."
Noah forced the Mallet on the bewildered Count and rode his horse towards the stands.
