They simply stared at each other, and the carriage fell silent once more.
Transparent sunlight seeped into the stillness. Over the pale face covered in white powder, over the purple-bruised eyes, over the lips with dried blood scabs.
Despite the grim sight, the woman was beautiful. Edgar suddenly felt an urge to snatch off the ridiculous hat.
He loosened the tie that choked his neck. Perhaps it was the early heat of late spring, but he felt thirsty.
"Mr. Lancelot."
The woman, taking the prolonged silence as a rejection, called out to him anxiously. It would have sounded much better if it were more plaintive.
"Edgar."
Barely managing to feign composure, Edgar slowly pronounced his name.
"That's enough. Edgar."
The incongruously bright red lips closed. The scenery outside the window changed.
Having escaped the high-rise buildings, the carriage now began to run across the park. Then, the red lips cautiously parted.
"...Edgar."
He liked the way the woman said his name.
"Speak."
Edgar's lips curved upward.
"A wish."
The commotion started with Olivia Blanchett once again.
As the two hottest topics of Litten society these days appeared, the consulate staff were thrown into disarray.
Of course, the most surprised person was the employee who had sent Olivia away empty-handed three hours earlier.
Wait, who is this...?
The employee, who would have been ruined if he had bet his entire fortune on 'woman pleads, man refuses,' dropped the fountain pen cap he had been chewing on.
A gentleman in a light gray suit approached with a refreshing stride. As rumored, he was incredibly handsome and exuded a grace that rivaled Duke Johann Leopold.
The consulate employee stood up abruptly as soon as he saw Edgar Lancaster Lancelot, whom he had only encountered in articles.
"I'm sorry to bother you. I came with the guarantor you mentioned."
The woman said, her face brighter than it had been in the morning.
"Is the consul available?"
The man with chillingly clear gray eyes asked in a dignified voice, typical of a noble aristocrat.
"T-this way."
In principle, he should have informed the consul of the visitor first, but for some reason, he was acting like Marquess Lancelot's servant.
No way. He actually came...?
In person, no less.
"Shall we go?"
The smile on the man's face as he offered his arm to the woman was impeccably handsome. It certainly wasn't the attitude of a man who would share a bed with a woman for one night and then discard her.
Olivia and Edgar followed the employee's guidance and headed to the consul's office.
The Rondo's consul welcomed Marquess Lancelot, treated him with the utmost respect, and promised to ensure that all procedures were carried out perfectly.
The power of authority was strong, and everything was resolved smoothly.
And the next day, photos of Olivia riding in Edgar's carriage and the two of them entering the Rondo's consulate side by side were splashed across the newspapers, turning the Brit and Rondo's social circles upside down.
Brit Palace had many beautiful spots. One of them was undoubtedly the Botanic Garden in the West Palace, where Princess Anne Boleyn resided.
Anne Boleyn enjoyed having tea time in the space decorated with exotic plants. But today, a deep sorrow clouded her face.
Anne Boleyn, staring silently at the teacup she hadn't even taken a sip from, gazed at the late spring greenhouse where butterflies fluttered with a dismal look. As she replayed the memories of often inviting Edgar to drink tea together, her heart ached.
I was so foolish.
The rash judgment of her youth, filled with vanity, had made her miserable. It was Edgar whom she had abandoned in favor of becoming a princess of a nation rather than a Duchess.
"This woman is serious. Now she's openly flaunting the Marquess Lancelot."
"After causing such a scandal, without any shame."
"They must be dating. At this point."
The chatter of the noblewomen did not reach her ears. Anne Boleyn's eyes grew hot at the sight of a single photograph that filled her vision.
The woman receiving his gaze in the newspaper, named Edgar's Rose, was truly unremarkable. Except for the fact that she was Edgar's rival, Yohan's wife.
Could it be for that reason?
Simply to provoke Yohan.
No. I don't know.
Anne Boleyn bit her lower lip.
She couldn't fathom Edgar's heart. Even when they were dating, it was like that. He was a man whose inner self was as elusive as flowing water.
That was why she was more anxious, and why she chose Prince Argent, who acted like a sweet candy in her mouth.
She had secretly hoped he would cling to her, but Edgar had cleanly let her go.
"What reason did they give for visiting the Rondo's consulate?"
Anne Boleyn asked, shaking off her gloomy mood.
Whether Edgar had silenced them or not, the reporters had only written speculative articles, and the exact facts could not be found. It ended with an irresponsible sentence stating that it was fortunate that there was no marriage registration in the consulate's business.
"This is a story from the International Bank, Princess..."
One of the noblewomen leaned her upper body toward the princess and lowered her voice.
"That woman. Her face was a mess."
The women's eyes widened in unison. Then, they all clicked their tongues, saying it was understandable. She was a woman who wouldn't be strange to be involved in a love affair.
"Why would she show up at the International Bank in that state?"
"She said her bank guarantee and ID were stolen."
"Oh my goodness. How could such a thing happen...? She wouldn't have been carrying something like a bank guarantee around. Could it be that the Lancelot Hotel was robbed?"
The women made a fuss.
"That must be why her face was like that. She must have tried to put on makeup, but how could she hide the swelling? It's clear that she suffered something terrible, whether it was a robbery or a theft."
"At Brit's best hotel? That's impossible."
"Otherwise, why would the two of them accompany each other to the consulate?"
"They could have sent a lawyer, but they didn't."
Anne Boleyn listened to her friends' conversation and muttered to herself. All eyes turned to the princess. She forced a smile, not wanting to be a miserable woman.
"Isn't that right?"
Even so, she couldn't understand Edgar. It wasn't the kind of behavior that a man who extremely disliked troublesome things would do.
He was a man who spent more time on the bed with Anne Boleyn than sharing small everyday moments.
Of course, she didn't dislike it, but sometimes she felt hurt. He was a lover who found it boring to go to performances, visit exhibitions, or even attend parties.
Princess Anne Boleyn had started learning tennis because of Edgar. Tennis was the only thing she could do together among the few things he was interested in.
When she returned after getting divorced, Lancelot was the host of the Dumblein Tennis Tournament.
Anne Boleyn had participated in the tournament without fail even after getting married and had always won the championship. In a way, it was a natural result.
There may have been players who were more skilled than her, but no woman had the audacity to try to win against the princess of a nation. The princess donated the prize money to the Royal Children's Hospital and the Brit Orphanage every year.
The people loved the princess, and Anne Boleyn was called the Queen of the Tennis Court.
Now, all she had to do was win back Edgar's love.
She had put in that much effort, so wasn't it time for him to forgive her? Anne Boleyn felt resentful toward Edgar.
"Is that woman an ordinary woman? She's different from birth. She must have threatened Marquess Lancelot. She must have said she would report the theft. Otherwise, why would the Marquess be with such a woman?"
"How awful. Blackmail."
"That makes sense. The Leopold Hotel is opening next month, and it would be a fatal blow if they got caught up in security issues."
I see.
The corner of her heart that had been throbbing gradually became peaceful.
She blackmailed Edgar.
As the dark clouds that had been hanging over Anne Boleyn's heart receded, the sun of hope shone brightly again.
After all, tabloid newspapers were not to be trusted. They were just unconfirmed rumors.
Suddenly, Anne Boleyn felt sorry for Edgar, who had been caught by a vicious woman. It seemed that she was the only one who could save her old lover.
Anne Boleyn finally smiled.
"Princess."
The secretary, who had approached her unnoticed, broke her reverie.
"Madam Lauren has arrived."
"Madam Lauren..."
"Today is the day we are scheduled to discuss the outfit you will wear at the upcoming tennis tournament."
"Ah."
The princess's brow furrowed as if recalling that day.
Anne Gilbert.
The noblewomen held their breath and stared at the dignified princess, wondering what punishment would befall the designer who had contributed to humiliating the princess.
A cool stream of water gushed from the small fountain in the Botanic Garden. Rainbows shimmered on the foam in the sunlight pouring from the glass ceiling.
"Is there anyone who is a talented designer these days?"
Anne Boleyn slowly turned her gaze to the faces focused on her and gave a gentle smile.
"It's time for Madam Lauren to make way for her juniors. Isn't that right?"
It was a dazzling smile, like a red flower blooming in the middle of the flower bed. At the same time, it was a signal that the heyday of Eve Lauren Boutique, which had been thriving with the support of the royal family, was coming to an end.
In any field, generational change takes place in various ways. But she never dreamed that she would be kicked out like this overnight.
"What did you say?"
Madam Lauren's eyes were fierce.
"I asked you to return your palace access pass."
"What does that mean?"
"It means you don't have to come anymore."
"I'll meet Her Highness."
"I meant that there would be no reason to meet. Don't you understand? You've been targeted by the princess."
Madam Lauren let out a hollow laugh.
"I thought she was someone who was clear about public and private matters. I guess not."
"Madam Lauren! Watch your language."
The secretary, with an arrogant expression as if an insult to the princess was an insult to herself, continued.
"Who do you think you are to be in this position now? Skill? No way. Isn't it all thanks to the princess's consideration?"
Madam Lauren's whole body trembled with anger as if she had been doused in ice water.
