With a rough breath, the woman stretched her arm towards the sky. It was as if time had stopped, and only the woman, Olivia Blanchett, was moving.
The clear morning sunlight poured down as the woman leaped.
Edgar let out a small sigh.
Her blouse slipped up from her waist, revealing bare skin. At the same time, she fearlessly hit the ball with her racket.
The woman landed lightly and cheered.
Edgar, leaning against the window frame, gazed down at the woman.
Her fresh cheeks were flushed with the rose color of a spring day. He couldn't take his eyes off her.
The way she lightly swung the tennis racket looked quite familiar. Following her movements, her hair, tied up in a single bunch, rippled softly.
She had a habit of tapping the toe of her shoe with the racket before serving, and then bouncing the ball on the ground exactly three times.
Once again, the little beast growled.
Like a beast leaping towards its prey, the woman jumped towards the ball she had thrown up once more.
"Haha!"
The flushed face and panting breaths seemed to reach him.
The action of cleanly passing the opponent's ball over the net felt powerful and uncluttered. The woman was like a sleek, well-built black panther, moving flexibly and smoothly.
But when she was running out of strength, she used a two-handed backhand. It came with a scream that disturbed his nap.
Edgar burst into laughter.
In a tennis match, called the sport of gentlemen, it was considered mannerly for neither the audience nor the players to make noise. Moreover, ladies never lost their elegance even when returning a ball. They never threw themselves around like that.
She was a woman with a frightening obsession with winning.
Edgar's eyes deepened.
Did Yohan's wife have such talent?
Britt was a country obsessed with roses and tennis. The annual Litten Flower Festival and the Dumbledin Tennis Tournament were prime examples.
The newly completed Dumbledin Stadium was contracted and built by the Lancelot family.
The stadium, located next to the Dumbledin Club, had 19 tournament-grade grass courts, 22 practice grass courts, 8 clay courts, and 5 indoor courts. It was arguably the largest in the world.
In addition, there was a museum, restaurants, cafes, and a souvenir shop.
Edgar, mourning the tennis-crazed prince, planned to turn the prince's territory, Dumbledin, into a tennis mecca.
And the results of five years of effort would come in two months.
Olivia Blanchett.
Edgar's gaze deepened as he contemplated the woman running across the grass.
For that successful start, she would be an excellent means of promotion. Especially in the women's singles division, which had become a headache because of Anne Boleyn.
A bastard child abandoned by Johann Leopold, proof of infidelity, and a beautiful divorcee, the protagonist of the Dumbledin Trophy.
There could be no more dramatic story than this. Her unique playing style would also provide plenty to see.
The question was whether she was interested in the Dumbledin Championship.
Edgar's lips curved softly.
The friendly match between the two ladies ended quickly. The smile of joy on the victor's face sparkled as it touched the morning sunlight.
Edgar, feeling quite satisfied, turned away. He swept back his disheveled hair and walked to the side table, where he rang the bell. Gerald soon entered.
"I'll take a quick shower and head over there. I'll have a mushroom and cheese scramble with coffee."
"I'll prepare it."
Olivia smiled brightly at Elaine's order. The two had decided to have a late breakfast together in Olivia's room.
Olivia smiled as she got off the elevator and parted ways with Elaine. It felt refreshing to have moved her body enough to sweat after a long time.
"Weren't you bored?"
"No. It was fun."
Anne replied with a smile.
She had told Elaine that she sometimes played with Yohan, but Anne would know that wasn't true. But she didn't ask anything.
Anne had been watching Olivia since she was six years old. Perhaps she vaguely sensed it. The one who had taken over Olivia's shell.
"Do you, have something to say?"
"Huh? Oh, no."
Olivia, who had been walking while looking at Anne's profile, shook her head.
"Let's do it together next time. I'll teach you."
"No way. I'd be kicked out before I even got into the tennis court."
Anne, shaking her head, took out the key she had put in her handbag and inserted it into the keyhole as they arrived in front of the room.
"...Madam. Did I not lock the door?"
"What's wrong?"
"The door."
Anne's face hardened.
"...It's open."
Olivia and Anne's eyes widened as they looked at each other.
Anne swallowed and pressed her ear close to the room door.
Someone was inside.
'What should we do?'
Anne asked Olivia with a look.
"Let's go in."
"N, no. Madam. What if it's a thief? I'll go get someone."
Anne, with a clearly nervous expression, whispered in a voice barely audible to Olivia.
"If it's a clumsy thief who doesn't even lock the door properly, we can subdue them. Anne."
Moreover, it was too obvious to commit theft. Unless they were a fool, at this time.
"Still..."
Anne hesitated.
Olivia, or rather, Han Ji-an, was skilled in martial arts and shooting. However, she couldn't beat men with a large physique difference, but if she had a weapon, the story would be different.
Olivia grabbed the racket like a bamboo sword, and Anne raised her parasol like a long sword.
The two nervous people took a breath and exchanged glances.
One.
Two.
They shouted three and burst open the door.
"Are you just coming in now?"
"......"
A woman in a maid uniform stopped what she was doing and bowed her head. Olivia and Anne were the ones who were more embarrassed. Olivia, who came to her senses first, asked Anne.
"Did you put up the 'Request Cleaning' sign?"
"No, Madam."
Olivia and Anne slowly turned their heads towards the woman.
"Mr. Lancelot sent me. My name is Marie, and I will be in charge of serving you during your stay here. I look forward to working with you."
The woman bowed deeply once more.
Olivia slowly scanned the neatly arranged room. The clothes and slippers she had left in a mess in a hurry, the bedding, the dressing table. Everything had been cleaned up.
Rather than feeling grateful, she felt a sense of displeasure at having her very private space invaded.
Olivia placed the racket on the table and stood in front of the woman. This time, Olivia's meticulous gaze observed the woman.
"Is this service provided to all guests?"
"It is only provided to VIP guests."
The tall woman with dark brown hair and eyes, and a lean physique, replied in a polite but stiff tone.
Olivia widened her eyes slightly, as if surprised, and said.
"This is my first time here."
"Mr. Lancelot determines the criteria for VIPs."
"I see. Then I'm very grateful."
She couldn't feel any particular emotion from the woman. There was no discomfort to be found, such as being nervous about being caught doing something in this room, or hiding something.
Nevertheless, she didn't want strangers coming and going in this space.
"Could you tell him?"
"Please tell me."
"Thank you for your kind consideration, but I politely decline. Please tell him that."
The woman, who had been bowing, raised her head and met Olivia's eyes, and for the first time, a light of emotion flickered across her face.
"Did I make some kind of mistake? Or are you not satisfied with the room condition?"
"It's very perfect. To the point where there's nothing to complain about."
"Then why... May I ask why?"
"I just want to rest comfortably."
"......"
The woman hesitated for a short time and then bowed her head.
"I understand. Then, please rest comfortably."
The maid retreated carefully without showing her back.
Anne went to the dressing room first and checked that the international bank's certificate, checkbook, ID card, and passport, etc., which were placed in the double space at the bottom of the trunk, were in place. Olivia smiled at the sight.
"Anne. The hotel representative sent her himself. There's no way he would do something like that, right?"
"It's never a bad idea to check."
Anne's theory was that you should always test a stone bridge before crossing it. Even if the King of Britt himself had sent her, Anne would probably have done the same.
"Okay. I'm hungry, Anne. Order me the same thing as Elaine."
Olivia said with a smile.
"Yes, Madam."
Anne went down to the restaurant to order room service, and Olivia went into the bathroom.
After taking a light shower, Olivia came out to the bedroom wearing a flannel gown. She stood by the window, which had a great view of Litten city, and patted her wet hair with a towel to dry it, when there was a knock.
'She's early.'
Olivia, who was standing by the door across the room, opened the door with a bright smile.
"Welcome...?"
Olivia's eyes widened to the size of a full moon in a moment of embarrassment. It wasn't Elaine.
Why... here.
Edgar Lancaster Lancelot was looking down at Olivia with interesting eyes.
The woman was wearing a gown.
The thin flannel material revealed the woman's slender and voluptuous body line in a dizzying way.
Between the overlapping front flaps, the dark brown hair, wet and draped over her plump, white breasts, made his nerves sensitive.
To Edgar, a woman was nothing more or less than an object to satisfy his desires.
The reason why he didn't put in any special effort to warm his bed for one night was for that reason. There was no need.
With similar desires, or perhaps with slightly different desires, he couldn't take his eyes off Olivia Blanchett's body now.
Her cheeks flushed. And soon her forehead and neck turned red, and then bang! The door closed.
"W, wait a minute! Please wait a minute!"
The woman's voice, which had disappeared leaving only a subtle rose scent, was heard urgently from beyond the door.
The corners of Edgar's lips slowly rose.
