Chapter 82
- Foul Play and Reversal
2023.12.21.
I ran without hesitation toward the ball flying across the grass.
Olivia Blanchett kicked the ball away with all her might. Every time I took a step with my left foot, sparks flashed before my eyes.
My instep was swelling more and more, and the pain was getting worse.
A painful rally ensued.
The ball hit by Anneblin flew in a long arc and fell near the baseline.
The ball that Olivia barely returned hit Anneblin's racket and this time fell short in front of the net.
The heads of the spectators moved mechanically, following the small ball.
Anneblin sent Olivia's volley shot back long again.
Olivia's speed in chasing the ball gradually slowed down.
Running toward the ball falling toward the baseline, Olivia barely returned it, enduring the pain.
And the next moment, Anneblin sent the ball close to the net.
"……."
Sent it long, sent it short, then long again.
It wasn't just a simple rally.
'I know…….'
I felt a chill as if I had been doused with cold ice water.
'She knows I'm hurt. How?'
I thought it was an accident that happened in the crowded space. In such a situation, anyone could step on someone's foot and be stepped on. I was angry, but I thought I was just unlucky.
But it wasn't.
My eyes met Anneblin, who was smiling peacefully in the clear sunlight.
The moment I stared at the princess's face, which was pulling up one corner of her mouth, reasonable suspicion soon became certainty.
'It was intentional.'
At the same time as realizing that truth, Olivia lost another point.
"The way she waddles around is like an ugly duckling."
"Marquis Lancelot should have seen this amusing sight. What a pity."
Henry, who had subtly sent a warning glare to the noble ladies who were mocking Olivia with giggles, straightened his head and stared straight ahead.
I understand that she lost her composure after meeting a left-handed player without preparation, but at this rate, the upset he wanted was unlikely to happen.
So, what are you going to do, Blanchett?
Game score 1 to 0.
"Haa, haa……."
Olivia, exhaling hot breath and checking the scoreboard, had a deep anger etched between her brows.
Olivia slowly straightened her head. It overlapped exactly with the amber eyes.
The bright blue eyes engraved Anneblin Grace Britt in them. Deeply enough that it would not be erased.
I won't lose.
Never.
The eyes filled with Anneblin burned deep and blue.
But the opportunity for a counterattack did not come easily.
"Haa, haa……."
Olivia gasped roughly.
Due to the unexpected injury, her movements were noticeably slower and more sluggish, even though it was still early in the game.
Game score 2 to 0.
Olivia, who had given up her serve game to the princess, bit her lip in frustration.
"How boring. It'll be over sooner than I thought."
"It's getting hotter, so that's good. By the way, what kind of dress is the princess going to wear at the closing party this time?"
The noble ladies, who had lost interest in the game that was flowing in one direction, chatted with the princess's maids.
Whether they were tired of the story of the brazen femme fatale they had been criticizing so much, the flow of the conversation soon focused on the outfits for the party to be held tomorrow evening.
How pathetic.
Henry frowned. He looked over at Edgar's empty seat and then turned his gaze to Olivia Blanchett.
Something's wrong.
To the sharp eyes of a former tennis player, Olivia's steps and strokes seemed to have a problem.
It was too far from the fast and accurate movements she had shown so far.
Is the game decided?
Henry stroked his beard bitterly, watching Olivia struggling.
Olivia regained her composure.
How.
Olivia wiped the sweat dripping from the tip of her chin with the back of her hand and glared at the opposite court. I was confused.
How on earth is she controlling the direction of the ball?
The ball, which had bounced while spinning as if it would fall to the left, suddenly veered to the right and bounced up.
Olivia was so flustered that she let the ball go. There was no time to prepare.
I faithfully followed the trajectory of the ball, but the judgment was always wrong at the end.
When Olivia turned her body to the left, it invariably fell to the right, and in the opposite case, it fell to the left.
Olivia's wavering appearance was even ridiculous.
I don't know…….
Anneblin's first serve. An unpredictable ball flew in again.
Ah!
Olivia, who lost another point, began to get nervous. My heart was pounding.
Concentrate, Han Ji-an.
Bright blue eyes glared sharply at the ball.
The second serve of the third game. The ball came flying.
'There are no meaningless movements to create the shot you want.'
My senior's voice rang in my ears. It was the first time I had teamed up with him in a mixed doubles match.
'Watch your opponent.'
A soft but powerful voice echoed in the sunlight pouring down from above.
Olivia's gaze moved away from the ball her opponent was holding and slowly moved to the princess.
'Read the movement. Han Ji-an.'
Olivia slowly lowered her stance.
Beneath her fair, round forehead, the sunken blue eyes suddenly became resolute and flashed sharply.
Anneblin tossed the ball up.
She served, raising the racket in her left hand so that it touched her back.
Olivia ran to the net, engraving in her mind every movement, including the tossing ball, the height of the jump, and the angle of the arm extension.
Pain flashed like lightning from the foot I stepped on. The ball, kicked away with all my might, went over to Anneblin's side.
There were several rallies intentionally designed to exhaust Olivia's feet.
Then, in an instant, Anneblin's expression changed.
“!”
At the same time, a flash of lightning struck Olivia's head. Each and every one of Enblin's movements was slowly etched into my eyes like a slow-motion screen.
Anneblin, who had delivered the final blow, leisurely watched Olivia running after the ball.
The ball, which had fallen close to the left line, bounced up.
She won't be able to handle it anyway. Not with that injured foot.
That was when Anneblin was about to give a satisfied smile, leisurely sweeping back the stray hairs flying in the breeze.
Bang! Olivia accurately kicked the ball away with a scream.
"……."
The ball, which she had no doubt was out, came back.
Anneblin, unable to hide her embarrassment, had her peaceful smile broken for the first time since the start of the match.
"Fifteen, all!"
It must be a coincidence…….
Anneblin's face, who had lost a point, froze coldly.
Yes. It must be a coincidence.
Anneblin, who was nervously biting her lip, was startled and straightened her expression.
The moment Olivia scored her first point and Anneblin lost her first point, the flashes of cameras toward the two people flashed simultaneously, and cheers and applause echoed from one place in the stadium.
Anneblin turned her head toward the audience.
Those who were talking without manners in a tennis match that values etiquette were, as expected, commoner women.
The venue soon became quiet at the referee's warning to be quiet.
Anneblin, who glared at Olivia briefly, straightened her posture and tossed the ball.
Bang! Bang!
The ball went back and forth across the net. People's heads moved quickly, following the ball.
Anneblin, who had intentionally sent the ball up, down, left, and right, once again delivered a finishing blow. But it didn't work.
"Fifteen, thirty!"
……No way.
Anneblin's pupils shook violently.
As if to prove that it wasn't a coincidence, Olivia cleanly hit the ball away.
The green ball, which had fallen close to the net without Anneblin, who was standing behind the baseline, having time to run and handle it, rolled away in vain.
Anneblin, who was looking down at the ball in dismay, raised her head.
On the opposite court, Olivia was looking at this side with a faint smile on her face.
She saw through my movements.
At that moment, the existence of the bastard became eerily clear. With a broken foot. It would have been difficult enough just to kick the ball away.
Barely suppressing the anger that made her want to smash her racket, Anneblin received a new ball. The hand holding the ball trembled.
Calm down.
Even if Olivia Blanchett reads her movements, the pain in her leg will not disappear.
If I drag the game into a long-term battle, she will definitely collapse.
Anneblin took a serving stance.
The eyes of the two people, flashing like beasts, collided in the air. She was about to serve, after glaring at Olivia for a moment.
The VIP seats, which had been watching the two people's confrontation with bated breath, began to stir.
Anneblin frowned for a moment.
The time when players are most sensitive and nervous in a tennis match is when they are serving.
How dare…….
Anneblin's gaze, her concentration broken, slowly turned toward the center of the commotion, following their agitation.
“!”
The amber eyes froze in an instant as if hit by frost.
Olivia, who was staring at such a princess, also turned her head toward where Anneblin's gaze had reached.
The carriage carrying Yohan departed from Litten Port. The black carriage, with no decorations, left the port at an unstoppable speed.
The festive atmosphere, more vibrant and bustling than when I visited before, flowed quickly outside the carriage window, but the inside of the carriage was desolate.
Yohan frowned, looking at his wrist as if it were a habit.
"It's 11:10."
I didn't know that the absence of a wristwatch would bother Maurice so much. He asked the time exactly every ten minutes.
Yohan's watch was being repaired at the Patek Lemonde branch.
Since he refused the watch brought from White Gable, it meant that Maurice would have to take on that role for at least a week.
Yohan turned his gaze and stared at the sky outside the window.
In the distance, the Ad Balloon, the symbolic model of the Dumblin Championship, came into view, floating in the air like a small cloud.
Yohan briefly made eye contact and then closed his eyes.
Clear sunlight slid down Yohan's gaunt face, who had been overworked since the opening of the Leopold Hotel.
The carriage, which had been running well for a while, suddenly stopped with a loud crash.
Yohan, who had not moved at all, slowly opened his eyes.
"I think there's been an accident."
It was the coachman's voice.
Yohan opened the curtains and looked outside. The road was completely blocked and showed no sign of clearing.
"Damn it."
Yohan muttered a curse.
Yohan's hand, which had been pulling down his tie out of frustration, stopped. Yohan's face, deeply stained with fatigue, was pressed close to the window.
His sharp gaze quickly chased someone beyond the window. A man was riding a horse.
The horse was as black as darkness, and the man with black hair riding on it was Edgar Lancaster Lancelot.
