The end of the Goddess's Bridge, bathed in the sunset, was drawing near.
The sight of a woman walking away with hurried steps caught Yohan's attention.
Following the woman's movements, her glossy chestnut hair, just long enough to slightly cover her nape, fluttered in the river breeze.
"Olivia."
The name, unconsciously uttered in a low voice, broke the silence.
A fleeting wrinkle crossed the Princess's brow, which had consistently maintained a blank expression, but Yohan didn't notice.
Yohan, who had been gazing out the window until the Carriage passed the woman, couldn't help but chuckle.
It was a woman who shouldn't be here. It seemed the woman's photo sent by the spy was deeply etched in his mind.
'Love me.'
The voice of his wife echoed in his ears like an auditory hallucination once again.
One day, before entering the dining room, Maurice had whispered that it was Madam's birthday tomorrow. Yohan, seated at the table, asked formally.
'A gift. Tell me if there's anything you want.'
With a smile that held a hint of sadness, his wife said.
'Love me.'
He couldn't understand.
What value could a temporary emotion that would disappear and eventually end possibly have?
Yohan averted his gaze from the woman walking busily. He met the Princess's eyes, who was sitting still like a cold porcelain doll, staring straight ahead.
The space, flooded with the sunset at its peak, was a suffocating blood-red.
"If I made you uncomfortable, I apologize."
Yohan apologized politely.
The Princess of Krantz said nothing.
Even in the blazing red light, the Princess's cold eyes held only a slight hint of displeasure.
Even that quickly faded, becoming indifferent, and she soon turned towards the opposite window.
Yohan also turned his head. He checked his wristwatch as a habit, and his meaningless gaze rested on the Rondos Palace in the distance.
A quiet woman wasn't bad.
At least this Princess wouldn't be singing about love.
That alone made it a good deal for Yohan.
It was time to focus on the new negotiations with the Crown Prince.
The things he would gain in exchange for becoming a pawn on the chessboard once again.
The right to issue currency and government bonds of the International Bank, which Leopold was entering a takeover battle for, and its elevation to a central bank.
That should be worth it. Considering he had become trash with an engagement forced less than three months after his divorce.
Of course, that was only on the condition that Leopold acquired it.
As always, it was destined to fall into Johann Leopold's grasp with one hundred percent certainty.
Yohan decided to only think about the financial empire he would build.
The Carriage glided through the golden gate of the palace. Soon, the Carriage arrived in front of the guest house.
"You dim-witted fool!"
Russell Dickson's roar, his face contorted fiercely, echoed loudly. Seeing this, the secretary shook his head as if expecting it.
"Tell him to come here immediately! Right now!!!"
Did I spend those dark nights burning the midnight oil to create something like that?
Russell's black mustache twitched.
At the ear-splitting shout, the secretary burst out of the icy cold chairman's office and began running towards where Russell Junior was.
Crash! The sound of something thrown violently hitting the wall and shattering was chilling.
The secretary fully understood Russell's feelings.
Bringing shame to the family had its limits. If it were his son, he would break his wrists so he could never hold a racket again.
Even as he gasped for breath, he clicked his tongue in dismay and rushed to court number 12, where the atmosphere was very friendly.
The pleasant, low-pitched laughter carried on the breeze.
"Ahahaha. Good. Very good, Miss Blanchett."
The man smiling foolishly, revealing his even teeth, was none other than Russell Junior.
"Now, let's put a little more depth into it this time. Focus on the backhand."
The way he put strength into his broad shoulders was like a rooster puffing up his chest and strutting in front of a hen.
"Yes, Coach."
The woman smiled brightly like the morning sun.
Who could resist such a smile? The secretary shook his head and approached Russell Junior from behind. Sensing his presence, he served with a bang! and said as if annoyed.
"Tell him I'm busy."
"I don't think that will work. He's very angry."
"Then I definitely shouldn't go."
"But-."
"Your swing is good right now. Keep your arm at the right angle."
Russell Junior diligently picked up Olivia's balls and spared no seemingly useless advice.
Who was teaching whom what?
Such a pathetic…….
He couldn't help but curse.
He should be begging for forgiveness, but instead. There was a limit to being stupid, and you should only show off in front of people you can actually impress.
The secretary, feeling that his concern for him, which had made him rush over fearing he might break something, was being ignored, turned away as if to say, 'Do what you want.'
The shadows were getting shorter. The grand fountain's water jets, signaling eleven o'clock, shot up coolly. The white foam, shattering like grains of sand, shone in rainbow colors in the sunlight.
"Let's call it a day."
Olivia, out of breath, stopped in the center of the court, took a moment to catch her breath, and then looked up.
"Thank you again today, Coach."
Olivia said with a smile to Russell Junior, who handed her a towel.
"I'll do some more personal practice."
"M-more?"
Russell Junior, surprised, opened his mouth wide and blinked his large eyes.
"I think I've gained some stamina thanks to you, Coach. There's still time left."
Olivia smiled as she wiped her cheeks with the towel. Russell Junior, feeling proud, swept back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.
He felt a sense of satisfaction even though he knew he was being used.
Thanks to Olivia's consideration, he had shed his bad reputation. Now, the ladies were busy praising Russell Junior's chivalry.
'Why did you go so far for such a woman? You're so kind.'
'How can you beat a lady with force? Ahahaha.'
It was a symbiotic relationship where he had nothing to lose.
"Anne."
At Olivia's call, the maid scurried to the opposite court. The maid began to line up the things she took out of the bag she was carrying on her shoulder on the grass.
Russell Junior, sitting under the parasol, tilted his head, about to drink the lemonade with ice.
No way.
The maid who set up the last wooden pillar returned to her place. Olivia tapped the tip of her toe on the racket head and took a stance.
Russell Junior, who had emptied the lemonade in one gulp, put a cigarette in his mouth. He was about to strike a match and light the end of the cigarette.
The woman's blue eyes, holding the green ball firmly with her fingertips, deepened rapidly.
The eyes, narrowing her long eyes and staring at her opponent, flashed fiercely like a bird of prey when it spotted its prey while soaring through the sky.
The ball went up into the sky. At the same time, Olivia's body arched like a bow and leaped up.
Bang! The center of the racket hit the falling ball accurately. The ball, flying at high speed, struck the first wooden pillar without a single error and rolled away.
Good heavens!
Russell Junior, who had been watching the scene blankly, suddenly jumped up and shouted.
Ah, hot! The loosely held cigarette fell onto his thigh, and his snow-white pants were scorched black.
Anne, who had been quietly watching Olivia, pinched her palm to hold back her laughter. He looked burly and rough on the outside, but he was a surprisingly cute young master.
That day's practice ended only after Olivia had knocked down all ten wooden pillars.
"Aren't you hungry? Let's go have lunch."
Russell Junior said in a deep voice.
After practice, he had lunch with Olivia. It was, after all, a favor that came from a pure heart.
An hour and thirty minutes from Riverside 3rd Street to here. Even if she had breakfast early, it was seven o'clock. It was time to get hungry just lazing around.
For her, who stubbornly refused, Russell Junior put forward the excuse of a player's physical fitness management. And that excuse worked.
When Russell Junior checked the availability of seats on the deck, the manager guided them outside. It was a place where the view was coolly open to the sea.
"Here. It's so wonderful."
Olivia exclaimed. Russell Junior became proud at the sight. He pulled her chair back like a gentleman, and when Olivia sat down, he went to the opposite side and sat down.
"The seafood here is as good as Grand Bleu. Tell me if you need a recommendation."
"Then please do."
"Sea bass fillet."
"Okay."
While Russell Junior was ordering, Olivia turned her head towards the sea. The white tablecloth fluttered in the sea breeze.
Sleek boats practicing rowing passed by, rowing in time with the commands. Time flowed calmly like the sea.
After the staff left and before the food came out, Russell Junior began to talk about the play of Princess Anne Boleyn, the player with the most wins of all time.
A moment later, an amber glass containing whiskey and a tall glass containing carbonated water were placed on the table.
"The Princess's coach is also a three-time consecutive winner. I once faced him, but I happened to injure my wrist the day before."
"Oh dear. That player was really lucky then."
"Well. That's right."
Russell Junior shrugged his shoulders. Russell Junior, excited, began to list the experiences he had had in the competitions he had participated in. Of course, exaggeratedly, dramatically.
"I once met Edgar in the semi-finals."
"Really?"
Olivia's upper body leaned forward slightly, her hands clasped together. Her eyes widened.
The surface of her blue eyes, seen up close, sparkled like the surface of the sea right in front of her. Russell Junior's shoulders became even more tense.
"It was the last set. And it was deuce."
"Oh! Goodness. It was neck and neck."
The woman's body came even closer. Holding her breath and listening as if she were listening to the legendary exploits of a hero, her heart beat strangely as she looked only at him.
"……."
"So. So, Coach?"
Olivia imagined Edgar on the green court. The man jumping high into the sky and launching a powerful serve.
