Sunlight poured down on the bright blue grass court.
Olivia Blanchett, her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, took a deep breath. It was then that Edgar placed his hand on Olivia's back. Startled, Olivia flinched and looked up. Their eyes met.
"Just like we practiced."
Edgar whispered softly in her ear, as if in a secret strategy meeting.
"Just do what you know."
'Just do what we practiced. Just do that, Jian.'
It was what her senior had told her when she was nervous before a mixed doubles match against another club.
In fact, Jian wasn't nervous about the match itself. Her heart fluttered because it was the first time she was on a team with her senior. He probably never knew.
This man keeps reminding me of my senior.
"...Yes."
The man's face, wearing a smile at Olivia's docile reply, moved away. The heat-filled breeze that had crossed the blue sea tickled her ear. Summer was coming.
A moment later, thwack! The sound of a racket hitting a ball resounded across the lawn.
That, that damn idiot.
Russell was inwardly cursing his son, who was playing against Olivia.
At first, the guy had approached the game with impeccable gentlemanly manners, but to avoid the worst-case scenario of losing to a woman, he was increasingly resorting to underhanded attacks.
The problem was that even those weren't working, and each time, his son, losing his composure, made a series of mistakes. He was so ashamed he couldn't lift his head.
To be struggling so much against one woman.
It made a mockery of the saying that it was a gentleman's sport that valued manners. It was a game devoid of both dignity and etiquette. No matter how much you had to win, wasn't it a bit much to send the ball flying towards the opponent's body?
That rotten bastard.
Here and there, gasps and stifled breaths could be heard. If it weren't for the rule against booing during the game, there would have been a barrage of criticism.
A fast straight ball flew towards Olivia's abdomen.
Swiftly twisting her body, Olivia easily passed the ball that was about to hit her thigh. The opponent, caught off guard because he didn't expect her to hit it back, let the ball pass by.
Russell couldn't watch anymore and ran his hand over his face.
He was getting cursed at and making the opponent's skills stand out. If it had been a formal match, a foul would have been called.
Pathetic.
Olivia's play was beyond expectations.
Although Russell's second son, Russell Junior, had retired, he was a professional player. Against a man who had been swinging a racket for over ten years, Olivia was showing amazing skill.
Good. Good. Very good!
Henry was in high spirits for the first time in a while. His gaze was fixed on Olivia, who was running around the court. Where had such talent been hiding all this time?
It was distinctly different from the elegant game played by Princess Anne Boleyn. Women's games were like that. Light and graceful, like dancing.
Olivia Blanchett was different. The way she put in a clean serve and ran to the net like a sleek black panther. She chased the ball with fierce eyes, like a beast with gleaming eyes. Every movement was dynamic.
The ball went back and forth over the net, and a long rally ensued.
She won't be able to get this one.
Russell's son poked the ball close to the empty left line.
I won.
The Russell family was smiling leisurely for the first time since the start of the game.
But that was only for a moment. Olivia, who was on the right end, gathered the skirt of her dress to her knees with one hand, pushed off the ground, and began to sprint.
The jaws of the stuffy nobles dropped all at once.
Good heavens!
White legs ran quickly across the bright blue grass bathed in sunlight. All for one ball.
The ball, drawing an arc, began to fall after passing its highest point.
No way.
Surely a lady wouldn't lie down on the ground. Just for a ball...
Contrary to those expectations, the mouths of the men who were watching with bated breath dropped open again.
Ha! Olivia roared softly and threw herself onto the grass.
Thwack! The ball flew away with a cheerful sound. It was at the same time that Olivia's body fell onto the grass.
The barely hit ball crossed the net and fell into the center of the court. The ball, hitting the man standing blankly, rolled out of the line.
"Forty, fifteen!"
Olivia's victory was declared.
Edgar smiled silently as he watched the woman catching her breath on the bright blue grass.
Anne Boleyn, dressed elegantly in a black dress with gold chain straps, got into the Carriage.
"You look beautiful, Anne."
Crown Prince Alex affectionately called his only sister by her nickname.
"Thank you, brother."
Anne Boleyn smiled brightly at Alex. The Carriage heading to the Royal Academy of Art, where the art exhibition was being held, passed through the golden gates of the palace.
Crown Princess Louise quietly watched the affectionate siblings. As always, Anne Boleyn ignored her. She had never greeted her first, and she didn't now either.
"Good morning, Princess Anne Boleyn."
Only then did Anne Boleyn slightly turn her head to look at Louise.
"Oh, yes."
It was a seemingly kind smile, but if you looked closely, her cold eyes were unwavering. As if looking for any flaws. Her gaze, scrutinizing every detail, quickly swept down from Louise's head to her toes.
Princess Anne Boleyn had opposed the relationship between the Crown Prince and Louise since the scandal broke out when they were dating at the same university.
From the day she first came to greet the royal family until now, five years later, her unchanging gaze was nothing more than contempt for the humble family from a rural backwater.
"Don't you think your hat is a little small?"
This time it was the hat.
"The Crown Princess has a rather large face, so you should always be careful when choosing a hat."
No. It was the face. Louise smiled faintly and listened quietly.
"You understand what I mean, right?"
She always ended the conversation in this way, with a bright smile, making Louise look like someone who lacked understanding.
Rustle. Anne Boleyn, unfolding a silk fan, gracefully fanned herself and turned her gaze to the window. Sitting upright by the sun-drenched window, the princess shone like a haughty jewel.
"Thank you always for your guidance."
Louise, with a smile on her face, looked up at her husband.
When she first got married, she cried a lot.
She was terrified every time she stood in front of people because of the criticism that her accent was not elegant, and she devoted herself to practice until her feet were blistered because she was told that she waddled like a duck when she danced.
It was common for her to be ostracized when invited to tea parties, and it was commonplace for her to be embarrassed by false information.
Louise worked hard to be recognized and opened her heart to become closer. After making painstaking efforts to become the perfect Crown Princess, she realized then that everything was in vain.
The princess simply hated her. Simply because of her humble origins.
"I picked out that hat for you."
Alex said, making eye contact with his wife. Anne Boleyn frowned and turned to look at her brother.
"You thought that looked pretty?"
"The hat doesn't matter, Anne. As long as Louise looks good."
His eyes sparkled like a man still passionately in love. Louise blushed.
If Anne Boleyn wasn't there, he would have been ready to make love in the Carriage right away. Anne Boleyn was annoyed by the sight.
Anne Boleyn wanted her friend, Princess Catherine of Rondos, to become her sister-in-law. That's why she hated Louise even more.
She couldn't stand the Crown Princess even more because of her brother, who had fallen for a foolish, insignificant woman even though there was no reason to be so loved.
The sight of Louise blushing at her husband's wrist kiss reminded her of Olivia Blanchett.
Did all men mistake the pity they felt for women in pitiful situations for love?
Otherwise, there was no way to explain Edgar's attitude towards that woman.
Yes. Pity.
As she dismissed Edgar's feelings as such, the weight of the anguish that had been pressing down on her heart seemed to lighten a little.
"It tickles, darling."
Louise smiled shyly and pulled away from the Crown Prince, who was kissing her wrist in a playful manner.
She naturally picked up the newspaper that had been placed on the chair.
"Is there any important news?"
Alex asked.
"Yes. A very interesting article."
Louise smiled like a cat and glanced at the princess. Anne Boleyn was sitting like a doll, upright and staring out the window.
She must not have heard the news yet because she was busy getting ready this morning.
"Have you read the article about the Dumblin Club?"
Louise asked, raising her voice slightly.
"Ah! The Conqueror of the Sanctuary?"
"That's right. Olivia Blanchett."
At that moment, the movement of the fan, which had been fluttering like a spring breeze, stopped. Anne Boleyn looked at Louise and asked.
"The Conqueror of the Sanctuary? What does that mean?"
To Anne Boleyn, who was trying to appear calm, Louise handed over the newspaper instead of answering.
"......!"
Anne Boleyn's eyes widened.
Today's morning paper started with a sensation.
"What is this..."
Her crimson lips parted, unable to continue.
「Olivia Blanchett, Breaking Down the Sanctuary」
She could feel her eyes freezing as she read down the article.
Louise laughed inwardly at the sight.
She didn't like the daughter of a humble family, so how much more would she hate being compared to a bastard born out of wedlock?
"She seems like a really amazing woman. Don't you think so, Princess?"
Just seeing the princess, who had always been so aloof and arrogant in front of Louise, lose her composure and waver, seemed to erase the resentment that had been building up.
Louise quietly covered her mouth with her fan and savored the pleasure of the moment.
Anne Boleyn barely managed to regain her composure, which was about to crumble. She strengthened her trembling hand and focused on the article.
With this, she became the first woman to break the taboo of the Dumblin Cricket & Tennis Club...
No way.
