Olivia quietly replayed the situation in her mind.
“It all happened in an instant. I didn’t see it.”
Haah. Edgar took a deep, restrained breath.
“Are you… all right otherwise?”
His face, full of fatigue, looked sharp and severe. Olivia gave a small nod, then quickly changed the subject.
“Did you manage to take care of the urgent matter?”
At her question, Edgar’s expression darkened and the corner of his eye twitched. It was only for the briefest moment, but Olivia caught it clearly.
Was it something bad?
She wanted to ask more out of concern, but Edgar spoke first.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about. Just rest until we arrive.”
He turned the topic away first, yet still met her gaze kindly without avoiding it. The one who looked away was Olivia.
If he says it’s nothing, then it must be nothing.
Olivia brushed away her curiosity.
The carriage, having completely left the Dumbline Stadium behind, sped along the fields where the sun was beginning to set.
Olivia pulled back the curtains and opened the window. The scent of summer, now richer, flowed in with the golden sunlight.
The summer that had felt endless was now already past its peak. As they left the metasequoia-lined road, the cicada cries faded away like a distant memory.
At the same time, the days she had run across the grass under the scorching sun, swinging her racket, felt like a hazy dream.
The moment she struck the match point. The cheers that had called her name. The brilliant fireworks that exploded like bursts of light. She was afraid that by tomorrow, all of it would vanish without a trace.
“The Tragic Princess Who Kneels Before the Rise of a New Empress”
As if waiting for it, extra editions poured out into the streets of Litton.
Even though the men’s singles final was still scheduled for the next day, people everywhere popped champagne and raised their glasses as if the festival were already over.
When it became known that Olivia’s waddling, duck-like steps—which the high society ladies had mocked—were due to an injury, her victory became a brilliant and worthy result of fighting through pain.
“Find out.”
With just that one sentence from Edgar, Gerald was suddenly on fire.
He had to obtain every single photo taken from the moment Olivia Blanchet stepped down from the carriage that day.
Edgar’s gaze as he looked down at the photos spread out on the table was chilling.
They couldn’t pinpoint exactly who had stepped on her foot, but they could at least narrow it down to those who had gotten threateningly close to her. Among them—
After taking a drag from his cigarette, he exhaled slowly and pointed at someone.
As the pale blue smoke dispersed into the air, the target revealed by his long finger slowly came into view.
Michael Dosset. A supposedly loyal journalist from a royalist newspaper.
“He looks like the one to me.”
Gerald’s finger landed on a man who looked rather burly.
“I don’t care.”
“…Excuse me?”
In truth, whether they caught the real culprit wasn’t all that important. Whether stepping on her foot had been accidental or deliberate—neither mattered much.
“I just don’t like Michael Dosset, that’s all. We’ll deal with him later.”
Edgar smiled faintly. It was the perfect chance to get rid of the man who had written the most vicious articles about Olivia.
If it were a cheap tabloid, he could have simply shut it down. But the royal specialty paper The Sun was a different matter.
“Leak it to the press first.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the conversation ended, Edgar stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and turned around.
His indifferent gaze shifted to the mirror. Leisurely, he straightened a slightly crooked bow tie.
Anblin Grace Britt.
She had finally crossed the line.
He hadn’t expected a seasonal dalliance to twist into something that would cling to his ankles like this.
He had to end it clearly, so it would no longer be a bother.
His gaze slid sideways.
On the table sat a small bouquet of cornflowers, the same deep blue as Olivia’s eyes.
He pulled his hand from his pocket and picked up the bouquet.
The knock at the door came just as Edgar was about to leave the dressing room.
“You’re not overdoing it, are you?”
Elaine asked with a worried look. Even now, she couldn’t think about the way the reporters had surged forward like a mob without her eyes trembling.
“There’s a slight hairline crack, but they said there’s no problem with sitting quietly and having dinner.”
According to the doctor Edgar had sent, the bone on the top of her foot seemed to have a small fracture.
It wasn’t serious enough to need a cast, but she was advised to avoid any strenuous activity for the time being.
“We’re really lucky it’s nothing worse. I still get dizzy when I think about it.”
“Do you think the rumors are true? That it was the princess? If so, I’d be so disappointed…”
At Elaine’s words, Russell Jr. brought up the conspiracy theory circulating in town.
“I think we should get to the bottom of it. This isn’t something we can just let slide. They should be properly punished. I’ve never seen such uncivilized reporters in my life.”
All eyes turned to Madame Loren. She put out the cigarette she had been smoking near the balcony and walked toward them.
“Exactly. To go through something like that and still win? You’re incredible, Olivia. I think you’re amazing.”
Elaine pulled Olivia into a hug.
“How does it feel, Queen of the Court?”
“Don’t tease me.”
At Russell Jr.’s playful tone, Olivia gave a small smile but glanced toward the door. Edgar still hadn’t arrived.
Even while talking to the others, her eyes kept flicking toward the entrance without her realizing it.
“Don’t you feel a bit disappointed? You’re today’s star, after all.”
Because of the princess’s fainting spell, everyone’s attention had been focused on Anblin being carried out on a stretcher.
The award ceremony and press conference that had been scheduled naturally got canceled. It was a major inconvenience—almost as if the timing had been deliberately calculated.
“It would’ve been difficult in my condition anyway.”
“Still, it’s the most glorious moment for a player.”
Russell Jr. looked regretful. He was leaning casually against the windowsill, dressed up more than usual today.
Thanks to Olivia’s spotlight, his own value had skyrocketed recently, making for busy days.
And now, with her victory, he had cemented his status from a washed-up player to the best coach in Britt.
“A once-in-a-lifetime moment.”
“That’s for you, Coach. Olivia still has next year.”
Elaine concluded cheerfully. Olivia was already the top star in the Britt Kingdom.
From luxury boutiques and jewelers to perfume, lipstick, soap, watches, tennis gear companies, and bicycle makers—piles of letters on the table all said the same thing:
Please be the face of our product.
“Even Laurent Perfume… I’m jealous.”
Unable to stay calm in Olivia’s stead, Elaine was excited.
“You sure you don’t need a manager? I’d love to take that role.”
“I don’t plan to sign a contract, but thank you for the thought.”
“No, why pass up this chance? Fame is fleeting, youth is fleeting. You have to earn while you can.”
“Money is meant to be put to work, you know.”
“Exactly.”
The dining room grew lively. An impromptu investment fever seemed to take hold.
When the topic turned to money, the atmosphere quickly heated up.
Like the candles burning atop the candelabras on the table, everyone’s eyes burned brightly.
Only Olivia listened quietly, occasionally glancing at the clock on the wall and then at the door.
Edgar finally arrived just as Madame Loren was mentioning a new brand’s model offer.
“Ed.”
Those exchanging enticing investment tips all went silent and turned toward the open door.
Olivia instinctively tried to stand, but a twinge of pain made her furrow her brows.
Dressed in a white suit, Edgar strode toward her with long, confident steps.
Just his arrival seemed to brighten the room’s lights, making it feel suddenly warm.
Caught off guard by the sudden vision, Olivia couldn’t help but smile.
A romantic night of colorful fireworks filling the sky played before her eyes like a painting.
A night when the pale glow of streetlamps haloed them, and the scent of rich roses lingered in the air.
That night too, he had worn a crisp white tailcoat as he climbed the marble stairs toward her.
The fireworks had faded, leaving only a faint trace in the air, but the soft spring breeze and the romantic waltz of that night remained vivid in her memory.
Was it the same for you?
“You came?”
When Olivia greeted him, Edgar bowed and kissed the back of her hand.
He handed her a bouquet wrapped in white paper, tied with a lavender ribbon.
“Thank you.”
Blinking slowly at the flowers, Olivia lifted her gaze.
Her eyes met his gray-blue ones—the color of the sky just before dawn.
“Sit.”
Her cheeks faintly flushed, Olivia smiled brightly and gestured to the seat beside her.
But Edgar didn’t sit. Slightly puzzled, Olivia tilted her head.
“I’m sorry.”
“…?”
“Something’s come up.”
“…Ah.”
At a loss for words, Olivia dropped her gaze to her neatly folded hands, staring blankly at her fingertips.
“I’m sorry for breaking my promise.”
Is it important?
If he said so, then it must be important. But just once, she wanted to hold onto him.
How important is it?
Important enough to miss a day as special as this?
“Olivia.”
Hearing her name in that familiar tone, Olivia slowly lifted her eyes.
The look in his eyes asked her to let him go—calm, almost detached. And so, the answer was inevitable.
“…It’s fine.”
He must have his reasons.
She wanted to know them, but she decided to hold back for now. She didn’t want to spoil the mood in front of those gathered to celebrate her.
“Go ahead.”
Only then did he smile. Olivia forced herself to hide her disappointment and smiled back in return.
