EID Chapter 45

“It’s your first time wearing tennis clothes, isn’t it?”

Her tone was filled with annoyance.

“……Yes.”

Micheom lowered her gaze as she answered.

“Have you ever played a match?”

She disliked not only tennis but also horse riding and even boating.

Being active under the sun was the fastest way to ruin her skin.

“……No, Your Highness.”

Anblin frowned.

What more could she say to someone like this?

Anblin mercilessly ordered the woman to be sent away.

Micheom’s desperate cries for another chance vanished as the door closed, but Anblin’s head throbbed.

Was Brith truly lacking so much talent?

“Find someone else.”

Anblin walked behind the partition and instructed her secretary, Cecile, to look for a new designer.

This was the third attempt.

The veteran designer, known for tennis outfits, was too old-fashioned, while the inexperienced one focused only on flashy appearances.

At this point, she was starting to regret firing Madam Loren so hastily.

The clothing designs Loren had proposed were still vivid in her mind.

They were fresh, and she had thought to herself that it was very much like Madam Loren.

She had wanted to wear them for this tournament.

Her red lips, pressed firmly together, bore the mark of her teeth.

Thinking of the necklace incident still filled her with resentment. But as a result, Yves Loren Boutique had suffered a heavy blow.

All their stores had withdrawn from department stores in the city of Lytton, and even the grand flagship on Buchanan Street was said to be temporarily closed.

That was enough punishment, wasn’t it?

“I’ve changed my mind, Cecile.”

Anblin, now dressed in different clothes, spoke to her secretary.

“Call that woman back.”

“Do you mean Miss Micheom?”

Cecile, unsure of the princess’s intention, asked again.

“No. Madam Loren.”

“…….”

Her expression showed that she had made a firm decision after all her deliberation.

The afternoon sunlight streamed in, casting lace-patterned shadows across the table.

Anne quietly set down the teacup and withdrew, but the two women remained silent for a while.

Olivia hadn’t expected that the person Edgar would send was Madam Loren.

She didn’t know how to act in this situation.

She couldn’t trust Madam Loren, who had disregarded the wishes of her clients. Sending her away seemed like the right thing to do—if it weren’t for Edgar.

“I’m sorry, Miss Blanchet.”

Finally, Madam Loren spoke.

Olivia stared quietly at her.

“I truly am.”

Sunlight pooled in the teacup, which no longer emitted steam.

Loren’s gaze, fixed on Olivia, dropped to the teacup, then rose again, filled with a determined light.

“Please give me a chance to make up for my mistake, Miss Blanchet.”

‘I don’t know if she’ll accept me, but that’s the condition for taking over,’ Edgar had said when she came to him with a business plan.

So she had to make Olivia choose her.

If necessary, she would kneel.

She had never bowed her pride even before a haughty princess, but for this woman, she would. None of that mattered.

“Why should I do that?”

Olivia’s voice was cold, and Loren’s eyes trembled faintly. She felt deceived by Olivia’s fragile appearance.

What she had thought were clear, lake-like eyes now seemed like the depths of an unfathomable ocean.

“Please, just leave.”

Olivia’s tone was firm.

She had no interest in Loren’s personal troubles. Whether Lancelot bought out Loren or Loren bought Lancelot, it didn’t matter to her.

She still hadn’t forgiven Madam Loren for using her, and she simply didn’t want to work with such a person again.

She’s not going to be easy.

Sweat trickled down Loren’s back.

“I don’t need you to forgive me. I’m not begging for mercy. Even I wouldn’t forgive easily if I were you, Miss Blanchet.”

Straightening her back, Loren met Olivia’s gaze head-on.

“Still, shouldn’t you at least give me a chance?”

Olivia was at a loss for words. She had never heard such a brazen apology.

“I don’t want to work with someone I can’t trust.”

Olivia’s stance was unyielding. Loren couldn’t back down.

Behind her was a cliff. If she lost Lancelot, she’d have no place in Brith.

She was still young. To end up as the owner of some provincial dress shop?

“If it’s hard to trust me, then fine. Don’t trust me. Instead…”

Her eyes, lined with the fatigue of middle age, burned with resolve. Gripping her skirt tightly, she said:

“Use me.”

“…….”

“Use me, Miss Blanchet.”

The faint wrinkles at the corners of Loren’s eyes trembled.

“There is no designer in this country better than me.”

“And yet, with all that skill, you disappointed me.”

Loren was struck right where it hurt. Her red lips pressed into a thin line.

No matter how eloquent she was, there were no words to refute that.

But she had to survive. Her gaze, which had slipped down, slowly lifted.

“My life is in your hands. Use me if you want. I’ll do whatever you ask. So…”

Her voice cracked with desperation.

“Please, accept me, Miss Blanchet.”

Madam Loren sank to her knees.

The slanted sunlight turned the parlor into a golden haze. A quiet silence filled the room, and time passed slowly over it.

“Today…”

Olivia finally broke the silence.

“You owe me a great debt, Madam Loren.”

The emerald ring on Loren’s hand shimmered faintly.

“You’ll have to repay it. Without fail.”

Olivia sat straight, her blue eyes calm as she gazed at Loren’s face.

“……Thank you.”

Loren lifted her stiff neck.

The pride she had never bent even for a princess of the realm had snapped easily before Olivia Blanchet.

“I won’t disappoint you.”

At least as long as she was allied with Edgar, that much was true.

The sound of the great fountain’s spray and the lively laughter in the toilette room abruptly fell into silence.

Anblin raised her trembling hand. The maids who had been fixing her hair paused and stepped back.

Anblin, staring at her reflection in the mirror, slowly turned her head.

“…What did you just say?”

She had heard it clearly, but couldn’t believe it.

“Madam Loren refused.”

Cecile bowed her head apologetically.

“Refused?”

Anblin’s eyes quivered with anger at this unexpected response.

How dare a mere dressmaker.

It was as humiliating as being compared to an illegitimate child.

“What reason did she give?”

“……”

Cecile’s lips wouldn’t move.

She feared that the already irritable princess would be even more wounded.

When Cecile hesitated, Anblin’s cold voice lashed out.

“Cecile. Speak.”

“……Marquis Lancelot has acquired her services.”

At the sudden mention of that name, Anblin frowned.

“Edgar?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

The veins on her hand, clutching the armrest of her chair, stood out blue. She struggled to steady her increasingly heavy breathing.

‘You’re the one who said goodbye.’

Edgar’s cold, indifferent words stabbed into her heart like a blade.

‘We’re done.’

When she had returned after their divorce and sought him out, sobbing an apology, Edgar had said those words mercilessly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t come to me.”

Edgar wouldn’t have blocked her outright. He was cold but not a vile man.

At least, she hadn’t wronged him to the point of deserving this treatment.

If Madam Loren had refused out of wounded pride from their last encounter, she might have generously granted her mercy.

“Tell me, Cecile.”

After a pause, the secretary confessed.

“She’s decided to work with Olivia Blanchet.”

“……”

Anblin’s face turned pale as ice, and her jaw trembled violently.

“Don’t tell me… on Edgar’s orders?”

“That’s what Madam Loren said.”

Anblin’s eyes, now red, grew bloodshot. She trembled with rage and betrayal.

How could he… how could he do this to me?

A breeze blew in through the wide window.

Following the hot wind, Anblin stepped onto the terrace.

The garden, covered in flowers, looked today like a blood-red nightmare.

“Arrange a meeting with Ed. I need to see him.”

Anblin finally spoke, her lips trembling as she held back tears that were about to fall.

Edgar gazed lazily at the city of Lytton as the sunset painted it gold.

With the Lytton Championship approaching, he had more work than usual, so an uninvited visitor was hardly welcome.

Especially if that visitor was a princess.

“How could you… how could you do this to me?”

Anblin bit her lip, her voice trembling with tears.

His calm, indifferent gaze was unbearable.

He was her first love.

The memories of their passionate past were still carved painfully into her heart. They were so vivid, as if they had happened yesterday. It was maddening.

She resented the man who looked as though none of it had mattered.

“You’re cruel. Truly, you’re cruel, Edgar.”

Seeing the face of the man who once held her as she slept, her tears spilled helplessly.

Edgar looked at her with an expressionless face.

It was starting again.

He let out a weary sigh.

“How… how could you even take my designer?”

Her quiet tears soon turned into sobs. It didn’t look like they would stop anytime soon.

Edgar closed his eyes tightly. How was he supposed to make this woman understand? He was beginning to feel irritated.

“What are you trying so hard for? Is it true that a thief broke into your hotel? Is that woman blackmailing you?”

Edgar suddenly burst out laughing.

Anblin was so shocked she blinked, her long lashes wet with tears.

“Listen, Princess.”

His voice was so low that she stopped hiccuping in surprise.

His dark blue-gray eyes narrowed as though he were facing something dreadful.