EID Chapter 33

Chapter 33. Conqueror of the Sanctuary

Sunlight poured over the vivid blue grass court.

Olivia, her hair neatly tied back in a tight ponytail, took a deep breath. That was when Edgar placed a hand on her back. Surprised, Olivia flinched and looked up. Their eyes met.

“Just like we practiced.”

Edgar whispered softly in her ear, like they were sharing a secret mission.

“Just do exactly that.”

Just do it the way we practiced. That’s all, Jian.

It was the same thing her senior had told her back then, when she was nervous before a mixed doubles match against another club.

In truth, Jian hadn’t been nervous because of the match. Her heart had fluttered because it was her first time teaming up with her senior. Not that he’d ever know that.

And this man… kept reminding her of that senior.

“…Okay.”

As Olivia replied quietly, the man smiled and slowly walked away. The sea-scented summer breeze tickled her ears. Summer was coming.

Moments later—Whack!—the sharp crack of the racket echoed across the grass.

That damn bastard.

Russell could barely contain the curses he was muttering under his breath toward his own son, who was playing against Olivia.

At first, the boy had played with the utmost sportsmanship. But now, desperate to avoid the disgrace of losing to a woman, he was launching increasingly underhanded attacks.

The worst part? Even those weren’t working. And every time that happened, Russell Jr. lost his composure and made mistake after mistake. It was humiliating—Russell could hardly lift his head.

Struggling pathetically against just one woman.

So much for tennis being the gentleman’s sport that prized manners. This was neither graceful nor respectful. No matter how badly you wanted to win, aiming the ball at your opponent’s body was crossing a line.

That damn brat.

Around the court, all anyone could do was stifle their gasps. If it hadn’t been for the “no jeering” rule, the boos would’ve drowned the game out.

A fast serve zipped toward Olivia’s abdomen.

Twisting her body swiftly, Olivia returned the ball with ease, avoiding what could have been a hit to her thigh. Caught off guard, her opponent let the ball slip right past him.

Russell ran a hand down his face—he couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

All his son had done was make his opponent look even more impressive, while earning nothing but scorn in the process. If this were an official match, he’d have been penalized.

What a disgrace.

Olivia’s performance had far exceeded expectations.

Even though Russell Jr., Russell’s second son, was now retired, he had been a professional player. A man who’d swung a racket for over ten years. Yet Olivia was more than holding her own against him.

Yes. Yes. Beautiful!

Henry was practically giddy with excitement. He couldn’t take his eyes off Olivia as she moved across the court. Where had such talent been hiding all this time?

She was nothing like the graceful Anblin. Women’s matches were usually dainty, almost like dancing.

But Olivia Blanchett was different. Her serves were clean, and she dashed toward the net like a sleek black panther. Her eyes gleamed like a predator as she chased the ball, every movement bursting with energy.

Then came a long rally—ball flying back and forth across the net.

No way she gets that.

Russell Jr. sliced the ball toward the far left line, where Olivia had left a gap.

Got it.

For the first time since the game started, Russell and his son smiled with confidence.

But only for a moment.

From the far right edge of the court, Olivia lifted the hem of her skirt up to her knees with one hand and launched into a sprint.

The jaws of the uptight nobles dropped in unison.

Good heavens!

Her fair legs blazed across the sunlit grass—chasing nothing but the ball.

The arc of the ball began to descend from its highest point.

No way.
A lady would never dive to the ground over a mere ball… right?

But against all expectations, the men watching held their breath—just in time to see their mouths fall open again.

“Haaah!” Olivia let out a small roar as she dove onto the grass.

Whack! The ball flew with a crisp sound—just as her body hit the ground.

Her desperate save crossed the net and landed dead center on the court. The ball struck the court again right beside her dumbfounded opponent, then rolled gently out of bounds.

“Forty, fifteen!”

Olivia’s point was declared.

Edgar watched her lying on the blue grass, catching her breath, and smiled silently.

*

Anblin boarded the carriage, dressed in a black gown with golden chain straps—elegant and composed.

“You look lovely, Ann.”

Crown Prince Alex affectionately used his sister’s nickname.

“Thank you, Brother.”

Anblin smiled radiantly at him. The carriage passed through the palace’s golden gates, heading to the Royal Academy of Arts for an exhibition.

Crown Princess Louise watched the tender siblings silently. As always, Anblin completely ignored her. She had never once initiated a greeting—and today was no different.

“Good morning, Princess Anblin.”

Only then did Anblin glance slightly toward her.

“Oh, yes.”

Though her smile seemed pleasant, a closer look revealed her cold gaze—calculating, judging. Her eyes scanned Louise from head to toe, looking for any flaw.

Princess Anblin had opposed their relationship ever since Alex and Louise had been rumored to be dating during university.

It had been five years since Louise first visited the royal family. And from that day until now, Anblin’s unchanging gaze was filled with nothing but disdain—for the daughter of a humble country noble family.

“Don’t you think that hat’s a little small?”

Now it was the hat.

“The Crown Princess has a rather large face, so she must be extra careful choosing hats.”

No—she meant her face.

Louise simply smiled faintly, quietly enduring it.

“You understand what I’m saying, right?”

She always ended her comments like that—smiling sweetly, but making Louise seem like a dimwit who couldn’t take a hint.

Swish. Anblin opened her silk fan and fluttered it with elegance, turning her gaze out the window. Sitting upright in the sunlight, she sparkled like a haughty jewel.

“I always appreciate your guidance.”

Louise looked up at her husband, her smile unwavering.

She had cried a lot when she first married.

People mocked her accent as unrefined, making her afraid to speak in public. They said she waddled like a duck when she danced, so she practiced until her feet blistered.

Being excluded from tea parties was normal. Being misled with false information to humiliate her happened often.

She had worked hard to earn their approval, to connect with them. And after excruciating effort, when she finally became the perfect Crown Princess—she realized it had all been pointless.

The Princess had never liked her. Simply because she came from a low-born family.

“I picked that hat for her.”

Alex looked into his wife’s eyes as he spoke. Anblin turned to him with a frown.

“You actually thought that looked good?”

“The hat doesn’t matter, Ann. As long as Louise’s face is visible.”

Like a man still madly in love, his eyes sparkled. Louise blushed.

If Anblin weren’t there, they might have started kissing right there in the carriage. The sight irritated Anblin.

She had wanted her friend—Princess Catherine of Rondos—to become her sister-in-law. So she disliked Louise even more.

She didn’t think Louise deserved to be loved so much. It was infuriating to see her brother fall for a pathetic little woman.

In that moment, Olivia Blanchett’s face overlapped with Louise’s.

Did men all confuse pity for love? Was that why Edgar treated that woman the way he did?

Yes. Pity.

Labeling Edgar’s feelings as pity made the weight crushing her chest feel a little lighter.

“You’re tickling me, darling.”

Louise gently pushed away the prince, who had started kissing her wrist again.

Then, naturally, she picked up the newspaper lying on the seat beside her.

“Is there something important in the news?”

Alex asked.

“Yes. Something very interesting.”

Louise smiled like a cat and glanced at the princess. Anblin sat like a porcelain doll, staring out the window.

Clearly, she hadn’t seen the headlines yet—too busy dressing up this morning.

“Did you read the article about the Dumblin Club?”

Louise raised her voice slightly.

“Oh! The Conqueror of the Sanctuary?”

“That’s right. Olivia Blanchett.”

The moment she said the name, the fluttering of Anblin’s fan stopped. She turned to Louise.

“Conqueror of the sanctuary? What does that mean?”

Feigning composure, Anblin waited as Louise silently handed her the paper.

“…!”

Anblin’s eyes widened.

That morning’s newspaper opened with a stunning headline:

“Olivia Blanchett Breaks Through the Sacred Ground”

Anblin’s pupils visibly froze as she read the article.

Louise smiled quietly to herself.

She already hated the daughter of a humble family—how much more must she detest being compared to an illegitimate child born of an affair?

“She’s quite the woman, isn’t she, Princess?”

Just watching Anblin, always so aloof and arrogant, lose her cool was enough to melt all of Louise’s past bitterness.

Hiding her grin behind her fan, Louise savored the moment.

Anblin struggled to steady her breathing. Her hand trembled as she forced herself to read.

The first woman to break the sacred barrier of the Dumblin Cricket & Tennis Club…

Ridiculous.