65.A Mistaken Wish
Today was Princess Anne Boleyn's second preliminary match. As if to show the Princess's popularity, the stands were already packed.
Olivia went to the stadium with Elaine.
As a spectator, not a player.
'Let's go together tomorrow.'
That night, as she walked hand-in-hand with Edgar along the starlit riverbank, his warm, large hand didn't let go even after they arrived in front of her house.
Not even when he took out the ticket from his chest.
'No. That's too unsportsmanlike.'
She didn't want to become a human being on the same level as the Princess.
Moreover, in order to grasp her true skills, it was better for her to concentrate on the game.
"Did something good happen yesterday?"
Elaine asked teasingly.
"Ah, nothing happened."
"Since when?"
"Really, nothing happened."
Edgar's breath brushed past her ear like the wind.
"Then why is your face red?"
"Elaine!"
Elaine chuckled. Embarrassed, Olivia buried her face in her hands and lowered her head.
It was then that Princess Anne Boleyn appeared on the court.
The Princess, walking calmly on the green grass, looked like a swan.
The commotion subsided all at once.
Olivia made eye contact with Anne Boleyn, who was wearing a pure white dress. She gave a relaxed smile.
"I came to see her last year, but she really plays well."
"Yes."
Olivia nodded, responding appropriately to Elaine's words.
Her gaze was fixed on the Princess's outfit.
Anne Boleyn briefly stared at Olivia.
She had no intention of giving her all in a match she was destined to win anyway. If only to make Olivia Blanchett lower her guard.
Anne Boleyn warmed up lightly.
The movements of her fingertips and toes were as graceful and beautiful as if she were doing ballet.
"Oh my, how enchanting. This is not something you can imitate."
The noble ladies around Olivia spoke loudly, as if for her to hear.
Each time Anne Boleyn moved her arm, the white organza frills that barely covered her shoulders fluttered like butterfly wings.
The flared skirt that came down to her shins was elegant like a ballerina's tutu, while not restricting her stride.
It was the same design that Madam Lauren had presented to Olivia the day she bowed her head.
If she had thoughtlessly worn the same outfit...
Olivia shook her head at the mere thought.
The referee announced the start of the match.
Anne Boleyn, who had the serve, held the ball and took a breath. It was just as she was about to throw the ball high into the air.
Ed?
She couldn't believe her eyes.
In accordance with the Dumblin game viewing rules, a man in a white suit was walking leisurely down the steps between the seats.
With both hands in his pockets.
It was no different from when he came to see her match last year.
Still arrogant, languid, and painfully beautiful. No, he was even more beautifully colored than that day.
So the crooked smile on his lips and the gaze directed at her were unbearably painful.
The hand gripping the racket trembled. An uncontrollable hatred washed over Anne Boleyn like a wave.
Her dark amber eyes trembled with anger.
The puzzled gazes of the audience naturally followed the Princess's gaze.
Elaine and Olivia also turned their heads belatedly.
He's gone crazy.
Olivia was appalled.
Edgar Lancaster Lancelot, the Princess's ex-lover, was approaching, drawing everyone's attention.
Towards Olivia Blanchett.
Did he have to be this cruel?
All she wanted was for their ending to be beautiful. Was that such a mistaken wish?
Anne Boleyn's eyes, staring at Edgar, became cold and still.
She had lived a life where everything was prepared at her feet since birth. So Anne Boleyn had never wanted anything.
Except for one man, Edgar.
Edgar sat down next to Olivia as if it were natural.
He crossed his long legs and smiled, tilting his head slightly towards the woman.
If it weren't for that woman, if that were the case, they wouldn't have been so ruined.
Even if they didn't share love like before, they wouldn't have hated and hurt each other.
Because of a woman like that.
You abandoned me.
The hand gripping the racket trembled.
Anne Boleyn, who had maintained elegance and composure in any situation, couldn't maintain her composure at this moment.
Her pure white face flushed red with anger.
The arena buzzed.
Good heavens!
The audience alternately stared at the Princess, who had become the heroine of a tragic love story, and the shameless couple with a mixture of shock and admiration.
This year's Dumblin Championship was truly the best. Frankly, the love affair was more interesting than the Princess winning every time.
"I've seen all sorts of things in my life."
"This is the first time I don't regret the admission fee."
People clicked their tongues and busily gossiped.
This was no different from a fight between the Princess, who brought her ex-husband's fiancée to Olivia Blanchett's game, and Marquis Lancelot, who brought his new lover to his ex-lover's game.
Could there be a more interesting spectacle?
People who were eager to run and spread the rumors were fidgeting in their seats.
"Why are you here?"
Olivia, embarrassed, quietly glared at him.
"I thought it would be nice for a first date. Do you dislike it?"
"Yes."
Edgar burst out laughing at the short and clear answer.
He barely suppressed the urge to kiss the pretty glare.
It didn't really matter if he did, but she would definitely hate it. He decided to endure it. Because he didn't want to be hated.
Edgar just smiled as he looked at his woman.
Was he a man who smiled like that?
The eyes of the man smiling brightly curved attractively.
Flames flared in Anne Boleyn's eyes.
At that moment, a loud bang! A powerful striking sound echoed through the court.
At the same time, the audience held their breath.
Edgar turned his head, which had been facing Olivia. His eyes collided with Anne Boleyn's.
As if aiming at Edgar, the ball that was flying towards him quickly fell behind the baseline.
But it was a clear warning.
Don't look at that woman with those eyes.
Edgar chuckled. His gaze returned to Olivia.
Anne Boleyn began to waver.
"Love, fifteen."
Anne Boleyn lost a point.
"Stop looking. Please."
Olivia whispered softly.
"Would you mind if I looked at another woman?"
"......"
Edgar crooked one corner of his mouth.
An eye for an eye.
A tooth for a tooth.
Edgar laughed silently.
That day, the Princess played the worst game since she started playing tennis, but there was still no upset.
After all, Anne Boleyn would win.
It was an immutable truth, like the sun rising in the east and setting in the west.
***
Evangeline Seymour looked at the transparent liquid in the finger-length bottle.
The bottle, illuminated by the gaslight, had a vermilion hue.
The end justifies the means.
This was the spirit of the Seymour family, which had grown from a mere merchant to a wealthy merchant.
Evangeline, who had repeatedly lost to Sara Pavlova, had to admit that she could never beat Olivia Blanchett with her skills.
Unfortunately.
"Is this it?"
"Yes, Miss."
The maid placed a canteen purchased from Halo Department Store on the table.
It was the same product that Olivia Blanchett used.
Evangeline got up from her seat and walked click-clack to the dressing table.
Evangeline opened the bottom drawer, took out a black velvet pouch, and returned to the maid, handing her the pouch containing a gold bar.
"If you succeed tomorrow, I'll give you this much more."
The maid accepted it with a greedy expression that she couldn't hide.
"Just trust me, Miss."
The maid's smile was sinister.
She planned to put medicine in the drinking water that Olivia would drink.
It was a rather dangerous drug, the most powerful of the tranquilizers, which was administered in large doses to subdue patients in mental hospitals.
It was accompanied by sudden drowsiness, irregular heartbeat, fluctuating blood pressure, and dizziness.
She wouldn't die, but it would be a terrible game that she would want to die from.
"You may go."
"Thank you, Miss."
As the maid bent over and left the bedroom, Evangeline chuckled as she buried herself in the cozy bed.
She was already starting to get excited.
It was an opportunity to overcome the insurmountable wall.
To become a member of the royals among the royals, along with the noblest princess in Britz.
Ah! How ecstatic!
Evangeline fell asleep that night, dreaming sweet dreams.
***
It was around dawn. Yohan got out of the Carriage and entered Rondos Palace.
His steps, taking long strides, were as upright and disciplined as if he hadn't just arrived on a train from Lemonde Station all night.
Yohan, who had impulsively decided to go to Litten but had been thwarted and dragged back, was in a very bad mood.
But the Queen's office was just as icy.
"I've been waiting."
The Queen said to Johann Leopold, who was closing the distance. Yohan, who politely paid his respects, sat down.
Queen Katrina was staring straight ahead with a silent gaze.
The neat ends of her eyebrows twitched slightly beneath her neatly swept-up blonde hair.
The sunken eyes that had appeared overnight were ominous.
"What's wrong, Your Majesty?"
Her red lips trembled. Katrina slowly closed and opened her eyes and said gravely.
"...Chris... had a riding accident."
The knuckles stood out on the back of her hands, which were clasped together naturally.
"...He's still unconscious."
Although the Crown Prince was a prodigal son, he was Katrina's most painful finger and beloved child.
Yohan silently swept his face with his hand, which covered his sharp eyes.
Extreme fatigue washed over him all at once.
"We'll have to call Mikhail back."
"He's probably been contacted."
Yohan nodded briefly.
"I need you to work hard from today."
"Your Majesty."
Yohan's voice, gazing at the Queen, who had suddenly become terribly emaciated, rang out heavily.
"I think I've done enough as a member of the royal family."
Katrina looked across at her nephew.
