Chapter 86
86. Arrogant Conceit
2023.12.25.
"Next time. Let's do it together."
Edgar whispered sweetly, kissed Olivia's hand once more, and turned away.
Olivia took a deep breath and stared blankly at the retreating man's back.
'Come to think of it, it's already been six years. The day I first participated in this competition and won.'
Princess Anne Boleyn's voice echoed in her heart.
'That's when Ed and I officially started dating.'
The fact that everyone in the world knew it pricked her heart anew.
What would it be like?
To watch the woman he once loved be so utterly defeated.
He was human, so wouldn't his heart ache a little?
He might be worried about the princess who collapsed unconscious.
It was possible enough. Inevitable. Even as she told herself that, she wanted only him. Not anyone else, only him, to look only at her.
"Shall we have a toast?"
At Elaine's voice, Olivia frowned at her tingling nose and smiled again.
"Everyone, raise your glasses. It's time for a toast."
Elaine struck a crystal glass with a spoon, trying to change the somber mood.
A clear sound rang out, and golden waves rippled in the long-stemmed Champagne glasses.
"To our Queen, our friend, Olivia!"
Clink, the transparent glasses collided. The hollow sound resonated in Olivia's heart.
\\
Edgar was about to leave the dressing room, having changed into attire suitable for Olivia's celebratory dinner, when his father's secretary came to find him.
"I'm a little busy."
Edgar sat on the edge of the desk, openly displaying his twisted mood.
It was a signal that he had no intention of receiving guests, so state your business and get out.
"The Duke would like you to join him for dinner tonight-"
"Tell him I have a prior engagement."
He cut her off mercilessly.
"Chief Justice Carlos is here."
"……."
Edgar straightened up and stopped pulling at his sleeves with an indifferent expression. He frowned.
"Chief Justice Carlos, you say."
The low, hushed tone was eerily quiet.
What business did Chief Justice Carlos have visiting the Lancelot family?
Edgar slowly turned his head to stare at Gerald. A terrified Gerald shook his head violently.
"It wasn't me. I swear to God."
This time, Duke Lancelot's secretary stared intently at Gerald.
It was an open secret that he was acting as a spy, but not reporting such a critical matter to the Duke was also grounds for disaster.
Gerald wished the sky would split in two and he could shoot up into it.
"I'll leave soon."
Edgar readily changed his attitude.
As the secretary bowed deeply and retreated, Gerald pleaded.
"I really didn't do it."
"Yes. You better not have."
Edgar's eyes narrowed sharply as he raised the corners of his lips.
An era of upheaval.
No matter how much the world had changed, bringing a princess of Britz to court was proving to be difficult, as expected.
But it wasn't entirely impossible, so he was moving as quietly as possible.
He didn't care if it meant antagonizing the royal family. The problem was his father, Duke Lancelot.
Just how many of the people around him were the Duke's people?
This matter was top secret.
How did his father find out about the secret deals between him, Gerald, Chief Justice Carlos, and the parties involved?
The shadows cast by the lights deepened the lines around his eyes.
Until now, Edgar had never disobeyed his father's orders.
He had wanted to be recognized as a son, and after that became trivial, the direction Duke Lancelot was pursuing was not much different from the interests he was pursuing.
'If you've played enough, clean it up.'
They weren't close, but they had never been at odds before.
And yet, the only reason for the conflict was some lowly bastard. Duke Lancelot must have been dumbfounded, but Edgar was also surprised at himself.
A pawn to be used and discarded.
What a ridiculous and arrogant conceit that was.
Edgar chuckled.
Before getting into the Carriage waiting at the front gate of the Lancelot Hotel, Edgar looked up at the suite where she would be.
Light poured out, turning the large lattice windows all yellow.
It was as if he could hear her laughter. He had just seen her, but he already missed her.
And so, Edgar often became afraid.
Afraid that she would abandon him when she knew all his schemes. That was unbearably frightening.
\\
As night fell and the heat of the day subsided, a cool breeze blew on the high-rise balcony, perfect for enjoying the night view.
Yohan stared at the Lancelot Hotel visible behind the Pale Hotel.
The staff were embarrassed as they cleared away the ashtray piled high with cigarette butts and ashes.
They also cleared away the empty bottles lying on the floor and placed a newly brought bottle of brandy on the table.
The hotel staff were perplexed, as they had not expected him to visit so suddenly without prior notice.
Moreover, in such a desolate state.
There was something unsettling about dismissing it as a sudden inspection stemming from a common whim.
"Leave."
The Duke's profile, buried in the deep darkness, was sharp. The summer breeze blew gently, scattering the cigarette smoke and the Duke's golden hair.
The staff bowed and retreated.
It was a night when the moon in the glass was particularly bright. Yohan tilted his glass.
The shimmering amber brandy sparkled like silver scales under the dim lighting.
Give what you have to give, take what you have to take. A simple and clear life.
Marriage to Olivia Blanchett was one of them, and there was nothing special about it. That was the case until she said she wanted a divorce.
Even when he suddenly left Greathill, the order of his life was peaceful.
When did the cracks begin to appear in his perfect world?
Yohan slowly went back in time.
Was it from that day he reunited with her in Litten, when he met his wife's clear and transparent blue eyes in his suite?
'You said you loved me, Olivia.'
'Not anymore……'
Recalling that day, her soft, low voice echoed in his ears.
'So, give me back that watch.'
Yohan looked down at his empty wrist. The watch, shattered like their broken relationship, was no longer where it should be.
Yohan leaned further back into the chair.
Suddenly, a deep sense of loss washed over him.
He remembered the woman wrapping her arms around Edgar's neck on the green lawn.
'I love you. I love you so much.'
His fist clenched tightly. Crack, the glass shattered, and brandy, turned red, flowed between his fingers.
He had forgotten that he was holding the glass.
At that moment, Maurice, who had been busy rushing around Litten on Yohan's behalf, came in.
"Director!!!"
Maurice was horrified.
Blood dripped from the end of his white shirt sleeve.
The moonlight shone sharply on the edge of the glass shards on the marble table. He hurriedly called for a staff member.
The staff member who rushed in at the urgent call looked helplessly at the Duke's hand.
"Get a first aid kit and clean this up!"
The person who had brought the alcohol at Yohan's order cleaned up the mess on the table, glancing at Maurice, who was very angry.
Maurice glared fiercely at the staff member.
"Leave it."
Yohan's heavy voice was cold and quiet. Maurice flinched a little, but decided to be faithful to his duty.
"I told you, no alcohol. You have to take your medicine. Why are you doing this?"
Maurice quickly wrapped Yohan's left hand with a clean towel he had brought from the bathroom.
Damn that Dr. Biden.
How much better would it have been if he hadn't been discharged in the first place?
Well, what can you do to stop the free will of a two-legged beast? Especially if that beast is Johann Leopold.
"Go get Dr. Jillian right now."
"Don't make a fuss."
Yohan said, tilting his head back. The moonlight made his flowing jawline stand out sharply.
He had lost a lot of weight in the past few weeks.
The staff member, who had been watching the two of them, checked the cleaned table again and retreated silently.
Maurice brought the first aid kit that the staff member had brought, disinfected the wound, and temporarily bandaged it.
It was hard to find an undamaged spot on Yohan's body.
Yohan entrusted his hand to Maurice and simply stared meaninglessly at the night streets of Golden Avenue.
More precisely, at the Lancelot Hotel where Olivia would be.
"Tell me if it hurts."
Maurice said as he carefully wrapped the bandage.
Whether it was because of the painkillers or the strong alcohol, he felt nothing.
It was quiet and muffled, as if sinking into deep water.
Why did she go to the lake in the first place?
Random thoughts popped up in his head.
Diane Brooke, that damn thing pushed her, but she herself had gone there.
'If anyone has to fall into hell for this, it's not me, it's you. Duke himself.'
Diane Brooke's curse echoed in his ears.
"……Was I that terrible?"
Yohan muttered in a low voice, as if to himself.
He reached out his bandaged hand.
'Today is my birthday. Can't you stay?'
If he had been with you then, when you gently grabbed my sleeve and begged me, you wouldn't have gone to the lake.
'I'm doing this to... make you love me.'
Or if I had loved you then.
If that had happened, what would have happened?
Love.
The staff member, who had been watching, picked up the brandy bottle that he couldn't bring himself to clear away. Maurice, unable to bear it any longer, snatched the bottle.
Brandy splashed in all directions from the brown bottle's mouth. It stained Yohan's shirt, which had its buttons undone, and his black pants.
"Stop drinking! You'll end up dying!"
Maurice shouted.
But he couldn't hear anything. He was sinking deeper and deeper into the deep sea.
He remembered Olivia running across the lawn in a pure white tennis outfit, exposing her smooth arms and legs, in the pouring midday sunlight.
Olivia.
The shock of that moment struck him once again.
