Dumbleton Cricket & Tennis Club.
That supremely haughty and arrogant place had even denied entry to the Queen Consort.
There was even a time when the King, having caused a major incident, took refuge at the Dumbleton Club. It was that exclusive and unwelcoming to women.
And yet, a mere bastard was the first woman…?
Queen Consort Margarita would have jumped out of her coffin in indignation.
Anne Boleyn calmly read through the rest of the article, her face losing all color. Her pale complexion soon flushed red.
Anne Boleyn shook her head slightly, blinked a couple of times, and then stared intently at the page again.
She hadn't misread it.
「The First Female Athlete Officially Sponsored by Lancelot」
Olivia Blanchett even playing tennis was shocking, but the fact that she was receiving assistance from Lancelot was even more unbelievable.
Edgar, you…
How could you do this? How could you do this to me?
When Anne Boleyn first showed interest in tennis, when she started learning, and when she first entered a competition, he showed no interest at all.
Anne Boleyn couldn't understand Edgar.
Not only Lancelot's sponsorship but even approval to enter the Dumbleton Club.
Why only that woman…?
Her extreme anger soon turned to sadness, washing over her like a wave. Her eyes welled up with tears.
She thought she knew Edgar well.
"...I don't understand."
The Edgar of now felt like a man Anne Boleyn didn't know. He was so unfamiliar.
"Well, that's just like Ed," Alex said, snatching the newspaper from Anne Boleyn.
"..."
Anne Boleyn's easily bloodshot eyes turned to Alex. He neatly folded the newspaper and set it aside, continuing, "Tomorrow, the official article about Yohan and Grand Duchess Krantz's engagement will be published. At this timing, to deliberately include this kind of article with this kind of picture…"
The folded newspaper showed a picture of Duke Leopold and Olivia's wedding filling the page.
"...Edgar did this on purpose?"
"That's the kind of guy he is."
"..."
"I didn't say it because he's my brother, but what's the fun in watching a game where the winner is already decided, Anne?"
Anne Boleyn glared at her brother, her earlobes reddening.
Louise sneered inwardly at the sight of her feigned innocence. Skill, indeed. As if she didn't know.
Alex didn't want his sister to be hurt. He knew she probably knew it too, even if she didn't admit it, so he stopped there.
His sister wasn't foolish enough not to realize that women's tennis was an unpopular sport and that the royal family was only preventing ticket sales from being so poor that they would lose face.
"Alright. Then do well this time too."
Alex smiled as he faced Anne Boleyn.
As someone who had strongly opposed her relationship with Edgar, he always felt sorry for his sister, who had returned after failing to marry the Argent Prince. He also felt a sense of responsibility.
"I guarantee you it's not the kind of relationship you're thinking of."
"What kind of relationship?"
"Yeah. It's not that. Those two, you see…"
Alex said soothingly, looking at his sister, who was sitting listlessly with the expression of someone betrayed by a former lover.
"It's probably more like a relationship of using and being used."
"..."
The Carriage was passing over the Golden Bridge in the lower reaches of the Bichen River. Red flags fluttered in the wind beneath the rows of golden streetlights.
Use value.
To Edgar, Olivia Blanchett was nothing more and nothing less than that.
Once Anne Boleyn realized the cold truth that she was just a tool to sell tickets for the competition, her mind cleared. Like a lie, her anger melted away.
She thought she might even pity that woman.
Perhaps Olivia Blanchett wasn't a femme fatale but just an unfortunate woman. Pitiful and pathetic.
Before she knew it, the Carriage had arrived at the Royal Academy of Arts. As soon as the door opened, camera flashes began to burst from all directions as if they had been waiting.
The Crown Prince and his wife got out first, and Anne Boleyn, descending gracefully from the Carriage, was able to smile sincerely in front of them.
"Did you see this morning's article, Princess?"
The reporters swarmed in all at once.
"Please say something about the newly emerged Blanchett player!"
"Do you see her as a rival?"
Anne Boleyn didn't lose her composure, even though the questions pouring out from all directions were deafening.
"From the necklace incident to the Dumbleton competition, how do you feel, Your Highness!"
Anne Boleyn looked down at the jostling reporters for a moment, and then her lips moved as if to open, and a momentary silence fell. Anne Boleyn gave a graceful smile befitting a princess of the nation.
"I'm looking forward to it."
Her clear voice was filled with confidence.
"Please. Make it to the finals."
In the midst of the silver flashes pouring down again, Anne Boleyn's diamond tiara sparkled brilliantly.
Anne Boleyn turned away, escorted by her attendants. The sound of people desperately calling out "Princess, Princess" was thrilling.
「Olivia Blanchett Challenges Princess Anne Boleyn」
"This is ridiculous, Miss. A challenge."
Anne was angry at the absurdly provocative article. Olivia was silently looking down at the shadows created by the swaying silk curtains.
The Carriage carrying Olivia and Anne passed through the main gate of the Dumbleton Club. The reporters, who had been waiting for Olivia, didn't even glance at the Carriage bearing the McDowell family crest.
It was a good thing they had taken the Carriage that Henry had sent, as he had suggested. How had the plan to secretly use the facilities for a month been leaked?
Even the club considered the entry of a woman to be a violation of their long-standing traditions and honor. They wouldn't have deliberately spread the rumors themselves.
Moreover, a wedding photo with Yohan.
No matter how she thought about it, it was clearly malicious.
Olivia and Anne got out of the Carriage and were led inside the building by an employee. The employee pointed to a detailed map of the club set up on one side of the lobby and explained.
"You can use court number 12. The time is from nine in the morning to noon. And we would appreciate it if you would refrain from entering other areas so as not to disturb the members."
"Alright."
Olivia replied with a smile.
After the businesslike employee left, Olivia studied the map again and then went outside the building with Anne. The scent of grass mixed with the sea breeze was refreshing.
The court assigned to Olivia was at the very end, with a better view of the sea. The unique smell of the sea, mixed with salt, grew stronger as they moved.
Calming her lightly pounding heart, she arrived at the court, where a game was already in progress.
Confused as to whether she had come to the wrong court, Olivia checked the number in front of the fence. It was clearly written as 12. Thinking it was too early, she took out her pocket watch, which showed five minutes before nine.
Five minutes.
Olivia waited quietly. But even when the appointed time came, their game was not over. Looking around, Olivia approached the employee recording the score and asked.
"I'm supposed to be using this court from nine o'clock."
The recorder frowned and looked down at her.
"You'll have to wait until the game of the member who is using it first is over."
"You mean I have to wait until the game is over?"
"Yes."
Olivia turned her gaze to the scoreboard. It was only the second set. Turning her head again, she saw the men exchanging balls on the court. She watched aimlessly for about ten minutes. The pointless rally continued tediously.
'They don't intend to give it up.'
In short, they didn't seem to have any intention of ending the game. At least not before twelve o'clock.
Olivia sighed softly.
Standing under the increasingly hot sun, Olivia and Anne wasted a day. The next day too. And the day after that.
For three days, Olivia had not been able to set foot on the grass of the Dumbleton Club.
'If there's no road, I'll have to make one.'
It was on the fourth day that a man's soft voice suddenly awakened her.
In front of a white window frame visible between the red bricks and the bright green vine leaves, two men were staring at something far away. The sky was clear without a single cloud, and the June sun was warm.
Despicable bastards.
Edgar clicked his tongue. All they were doing was killing time, occupying the court.
Olivia was standing there motionless with her maid, next to those energetic, pathetic guys who were doing that for three hours just for that childish purpose of preventing Olivia from using the court.
Today, too, she was all white like an anemone, except for her dark brown hair.
"Why don't you just give it up?"
Edgar said in a low voice. His gaze was still on Olivia.
"I said give it up."
Henry smiled as he turned away and walked to the sofa.
"Whether they give it up or not is up to them. It's beyond my control. They are clearly customers."
Henry McDowell said indifferently.
The members' backlash was greater than expected. Another name for the Dumbleton Cricket & Tennis Club was the Millionaires' Club.
Did the top 1% of tycoons who dominated the political and business world come here to hit a few balls?
The Dumbleton Club was a space where important national affairs were secretly discussed.
"It's up to her to persuade them."
Henry leaned back on the plush sofa and raised his teacup.
"Aren't you curious?"
Henry's wrinkled eyes narrowed mischievously as he savored the tea.
"I wonder if she can find her share in the midst of those high-nosed aristocratic men."
Undisguised anticipation filled the old man's eyes.
As expected, he had an unusually perverted tendency to be obsessed with winning.
It wasn't normal to watch a weak woman being bullied as if watching an entertaining play, but Edgar couldn't argue. He was the same kind of person.
Standing by the window with his arms crossed, Edgar looked at the woman standing like a still life in a neat posture in a corner of the vast lawn.
It was then that the woman, who had been attracting attention in many ways, suddenly began to move. A faint smile crossed Edgar's expressionless face at her confident steps, wondering where she was headed.
