Yohan didn't particularly want a divorce.
Anyone would have been fine as a marriage partner. That was all he needed.
So, he didn't care even if she was an illegitimate child born from a scandalous affair.
She just needed to be a shield to avoid the nagging of the family elders and the matchmakers in the marriage market.
Moreover, his marriage to Olivia brought him many things.
The deal with the Crown Prince was absolutely profitable.
Of course, his wife's morbid obsession was unexpected, but he could simply ignore it, and Yohan had nothing to lose.
"Please, divorce me..."
Olivia was more radiant than the sunlight when she said those words. Unbelievably so.
What had he missed?
It was like a thorn stuck under his fingernail, irritating him, but he couldn't figure out the cause.
Yohan pulled on the reins of his horse. The racehorse, its glossy black mane flying, began to gallop.
He ran across the vast meadow, shaking off the lingering thoughts left by the sudden divorce.
After circling the riding grounds, Yohan and the Crown Prince dismounted and went to the Club Royal Room to rest.
"It's good to get out, isn't it?"
The Crown Prince, Christian, Yohan's cousin and peer, dismissed the servant and personally filled a glass with brandy, adding ice, and pushed it towards Yohan. He emptied the glass instead of answering.
"It seems the former Duchess has completely lost her heart. You should have treated her better, Yohan."
"Get to the point."
Yohan stared intently at the Crown Prince.
"It's about time you brought in a new Leopold Duchess, isn't it?"
"You crazy bastard."
The Crown Prince, Christian, chuckled as he tilted the bottle into the empty glass.
"The world has gotten so much better. Be grateful you were born into a good world."
Christian picked up his glass and swirled it around. The transparent ice sparkled in the sunlight, making a clear sound.
"The Grand Duchess of the Grand Duchy of Kranz. Marry her."
"Why don't you do it?"
Yohan narrowed his eyes and stared at the Crown Prince.
"Low Field. I'll give it to you as a wedding gift. Do it, get married."
Christian was engaged to a princess of Argent. At this point, movements for independence were detected in the Grand Duchy of Kranz, a Vassal Kingdom of Rondon.
From Rondon's perspective, they needed a hostage in the form of the Grand Duchess, and unfortunately, the only unmarried member of the royal family of marriageable age was Yohan, who had just been divorced for three weeks.
"We can't exactly attach Uncle Aiden to her, can we?"
There was a Duke who was fifty years old this year, but from the perspective of the Grand Duchess, who was now twenty-two, a twenty-eight-year-old divorcee would be better than a fifty-year-old bachelor. It was truly a selfish consideration.
"Why don't you just have the Queen remarry the Grand Duke?"
"You crazy bastard. How can you say that?"
Christian burst into laughter along with the curse. His eyes, devoid of laughter, turned to the Queen's portrait hanging on the front wall.
"If Father heard that, he would tear open his coffin and shove a revolver into the Grand Duke of Kranz's mouth."
Christian's sneering continued.
"It seems the former Duchess is also looking for a second husband. And it has to be Lancelot. Is she trying to screw you over on purpose?"
"Shut up."
An intense gaze, untamed and fierce, briefly pierced Christian and disappeared.
"Ah! I'm scared. So scared."
The glib words were half-hearted.
Yohan was one of the few people around Christian who didn't wear a mask.
He didn't know how to hide his emotions. Christian preferred Yohan, who transparently revealed his essence, to those who would stab you in the back with a smile.
"I invited you to Catherine's birthday party. You just keep your mouth shut and show your face. For the peace of Rondon!"
Christian raised his glass high with an exaggerated gesture like a stage actor. Then, he changed his expression and muttered lowly.
"It's an order."
Funnily enough, at that moment, his wife's voice echoed in Yohan's head.
'Please, divorce me.'
The memory of that day, dry to the very end, came to him for no reason.
It was something Olivia would never say, even if the world turned upside down.
The glass held in his veined hand was emptied in one gulp.
Wiping his lips slowly as if stealing them with his thumb, Yohan stared silently at the blue sash across the Queen's chest in the painting. The color that reminded him of the eyes of the woman who had been his wife.
A second husband... huh.
A photo he had been given before leaving his office.
His wife, walking along a tree-lined street full of flowers with a maid, was smiling.
Had she ever smiled like that?
Yohan had no memory of seeing his wife like that. Not even once.
Meeting Olivia Blanchett, he looked down at the woman in the photo for the first time and thought she was beautiful. At the same time, he wondered what made his wife smile so much.
Among those few possibilities, he cut out the worst one: Edgar Lancaster Lancelot. He didn't care who her second husband would be, as long as it wasn't Edgar.
"Miss Blanchett has sent a reply refusing the invitation."
"Is that so? That's a shame."
Edgar nodded with a slight smile, as if he had expected it. The suite's room manager silently placed the tray on the desk and stepped back.
A pale pink letter was neatly placed on the silver tray.
He knew the contents from the report, so he could have just thrown it in the trash without opening it.
Edgar loosely held a paper knife.
He had a strange expectation for her after seeing her on the tennis court yesterday. He vaguely thought that she might accept the invitation, with her straight gaze that seemed different from before, confidently meeting his.
Was he mistaken?
The sharp blade glided, catching the sunlight. Edgar opened the envelope and took out the contents. He lowered his gaze.
"Wishing the Lancelot Hotel endless prosperity."
The extremely dry sentence, starting with a stiff phrase, politely refused the invitation, but Edgar couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Goodness, such a kind bad handwriting.
Pure loveliness emanated from the letters, each one carefully pressed down with force.
"Good heavens! Miss. It's eleven o'clock."
Anne exclaimed in surprise.
According to the plan, they should have had an early breakfast and left the hotel, but Olivia and Anne had become habitual late sleepers. The two, who woke up close to noon, looked at each other in bed and chuckled.
The two hurriedly finished preparing to go out. Anne, who put a hat on Olivia last, took her parasol and opened the door.
Olivia, looking at the Litten city map, took a few steps down the hallway and bumped into someone.
"Oh! I'm sorry."
"It's alright."
The man, who slightly lifted and lowered his hat, knocked on the door of the room next to Olivia's, the man she often ran into here.
Olivia headed for the elevator, and the man entered the room as the door opened from the inside.
Coming out of the building, the ribbons of the bonnet, tied prettily under her chin, fluttered in the sweet spring breeze. Spring was fully revealing itself. Every roadside tree sprouted light green leaves and hung purple petals, even imbuing the wind with a fragrant color.
"I'm glad we came out, Anne."
"Yes. It's truly a waste of weather to ride in a carriage."
The two wanted to soak in the atmosphere of spring like that, but romance couldn't overcome hunger. Anne, who got into the carriage that the doorman had caught, told the coachman their destination.
"Please take us to Grand Bleu."
The carriage moved and soon picked up speed, quickly leaving Golden Avenue.
The carriage, running along the riverside road, eventually arrived at its destination.
The restaurant, famous for its Mediterranean seafood cuisine, had a white exterior and a bright blue entrance. Opening the door and stepping inside, a staff member in a tailcoat with a napkin on his arm greeted them warmly.
"You'll have to wait a moment, is that alright?"
"How long will we have to wait?"
"Ten minutes will be enough."
"The gods are looking out for me."
Olivia said with a smile. In fact, she was on the verge of fainting from hunger. As she sat in the seat the staff member guided her to, the bartender placed a thin, long glass in front of Olivia.
Sipping on the pre-dinner drink, Olivia turned her body. The hall, where all kinds of noises coexisted, was visible at a glance.
The front of the high-ceilinged space was wide open with glass facing the Vicen River, and the terrace with a good view overlooking the blue sea and river was already full.
The guests putting food in their mouths were all chatting with satisfied expressions.
The wait was not boring with anticipation. But the moment Olivia and Anne saw the group of noble ladies sitting in the left corner of the terrace, they frowned.
"Miss, shall we come another time? It seems that table is ours..."
Anne trailed off, looking embarrassed.
The table that two staff members were busily cleaning was in front of the glass wall dividing the terrace and the hall. It was a seat facing the noble ladies she had encountered in the hotel cafeteria yesterday through the transparent glass.
"Are you uncomfortable?"
"I'm alright..."
"Me too."
Olivia, turning her gaze and opening the menu, said playfully.
"If they try to act friendly again like yesterday, I should ask them to pay for our meal."
Anne smiled softly at her relaxed attitude. She wasn't the same Miss as before.
Had she crossed the threshold of death and had her soul switched with someone else? She had absurdly imagined while looking at Olivia asleep.
"Why?"
Olivia, sensing Anne's gaze, looked at her and asked.
"If we're going to charge them, let's eat something expensive, Miss."
Olivia burst into laughter at Anne's determined ambition.
Olivia and Anne clinked their transparent glasses as if making a toast. It was at that moment, with the sound of clinking, that the passage towards the entrance became noisy.
"The new employee at Anglia is amazing."
"You pathetic guy. Being horny from broad daylight."
The men's giggling sounds grew closer, and the guests revealed themselves. Olivia's eyes widened slightly as she took a sip of champagne. It was the group she had seen on the tennis court.
As the gentlemen, dressed smartly unlike yesterday, entered, the elderly manager was startled and ran to them.
"Welcome, Marquess."
"It's been a while."
The tall man in the center replied with a handsome smile. The man, whose hair color as black as the deep night was particularly impressive, was yesterday's winner.
