“Evangeline Seymour Forfeits Amid Poor Performance – How Far Will Olivia Blanchet’s Unstoppable Victory March Go?”
Evangeline hurled the newspaper into her maid’s face.
“Are you sure you did it properly?”
Still unable to believe the reality of what had happened, Evangeline was tearing into her maid.
It was a small mercy that her strength hadn’t fully returned—if it had, she would’ve thrown a flower vase, not just some paper.
“I-I definitely switched the bottle! Really, miss—you saw it!”
“Do you think I was in any state to be watching that?!”
Still feeling the lingering effects of the drug, Evangeline pressed her throbbing, dizzy head, her hands trembling in rage.
Idiot.
She wanted to beat the maid and throw her out immediately, but held back out of fear she might talk about what happened. Instead, she merely took her gold as punishment.
“Please calm down, miss.”
“You think I can calm down right now?”
Evangeline screamed, making the startled maid recoil and hunch her shoulders.
Her rising fury made her breath ragged and her temperature spike again. With narrowed eyes, Evangeline glared at the maid.
That was when a knock sounded in the bleak hospital room.
“M-maybe it’s the lady of the house…”
The maid, anxiously watching Evangeline, hurried to the door.
At that moment, she thought anyone would be welcome—even Olivia Blanchet—if it meant saving her from this frozen tension.
“Who is—oh…”
“Hello.”
A calm, clear voice like flowing water.
The maid, seeing Olivia Blanchet, froze as if she had seen a ghost. After a long pause, her lips finally moved.
“…M-Miss, it’s Miss Blanchet.”
The afternoon sunlight streamed through the hospital window in long golden rays.
Olivia knew why Evangeline had collapsed.
It had not been heatstroke, as the newspaper claimed. She had come not just out of concern, but to confirm something.
“Miss Seymour.”
Olivia, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke.
Evangeline, propped up against the headboard, looked at her tensely.
Why had she come all the way here? Could someone really be so pure and harmless as to care about the health of a near-stranger after just one match?
Her golden eyes, catching the soft yellow sunlight, looked unfailingly kind.
“Aren’t you curious as to why you collapsed?”
“……”
“Ah! You already know, don’t you.”
In an instant, Olivia’s gaze flipped—piercing and sharp, as if it could slice through Evangeline.
A cold chill crept up Evangeline’s spine, like she’d been pushed off a cliff. Instinctively, she clutched the blanket.
She was suspicious, sure—but could this woman have done something?
How?
Evangeline held Olivia’s gaze with growing defiance.
“I don’t know what you’re implying, Miss Blanchet. I wasn’t feeling well even before the match. You know that.”
Not fully understanding the situation, Evangeline decided to deny it outright.
“I should’ve forfeited… but I pushed myself. As a fellow athlete, you understand, right? It’s not easy to give up.”
Crisis was opportunity.
Depending on what Olivia said next, she could try to pin the blame back on her.
People wouldn’t find it strange if a cold-blooded vixen like Olivia, obsessed with winning, drugged her opponent.
But then Olivia spoke again, and Evangeline’s face turned deathly pale.
“There was a witness. Someone saw your maid switching the water bottles.”
“!”
Her hand, gripping the edge of the white blanket, trembled violently with shock—but she didn’t even have time to process it.
“Did Princess Anneblin put you up to this?”
“!”
Evangeline couldn’t believe her ears.
Not only had she disappointed the princess, but now her noble name was being dragged through the mud.
A sudden terror gripped her—her golden staircase into high society might collapse into dust.
“That’s a ridiculous assumption. Her Highness has nothing to do with this. It was purely my own ambition.”
The confession slipped out before she could stop it. Olivia’s icy blue eyes met hers directly.
Even while telling the truth, a strange chill lingered near Evangeline’s heart.
“She’d never stoop to something like that. Especially not for someone like you.”
Trying not to lose ground, Evangeline forced a composed face and even added a practiced, elegant smile.
“Exactly.”
Olivia, who had listened silently, nodded easily.
Evangeline felt relieved. At least Olivia understood her place—and spoke reasonably. At least, until her next words.
“Because she wouldn’t want to lose to someone like me.”
Olivia’s round eyes slowly curved upward. Her rosy lips curled into a graceful smile.
“That’s how I see it. What about you, Miss Seymour?”
Her tone was calm, but the question struck like a blade.
Meeting those deceptively harmless blue eyes, Evangeline felt like she was sinking into a deep abyss.
“…The princess had nothing to do with it. I just… wanted to beat you to prove my ability.”
All Evangeline wanted now was to keep this fire from spreading to Princess Anneblin.
If she lost both the princess’s favor and her sympathy, her dream of joining high society would be over for good.
“What you did was unacceptable.”
“I think I’ve already paid enough for it.”
Honestly… Madame Lauren, Evangeline Seymour—was shamelessness some kind of Brittonian national trait?
Olivia let out a brief sigh and stood up.
“I hope I won’t see you on the tennis court again.”
“And why should I agree to that?”
“Because you don’t deserve to be there.”
“I could accuse you of orchestrating this. There are plenty of people who’d claim to be a witness if paid enough.”
Evangeline’s eyes were filled with venom, but it didn’t last long. She soon looked up at Olivia with a blank expression.
“Have you never considered that I could do to you what you’re thinking of doing to me?”
Olivia Blanchet smiled softly.
The sky beyond the window was tinged with pink. Her once gentle gaze darkened.
“I wonder what kind of testimony that witness will give.”
Her eyes, which had been looking down at her cold teacup, now turned to Evangeline.
“Where is your maid right now?”
“……”
Goosebumps spread all over Evangeline’s body. She suddenly remembered that she had sent the maid away to talk privately.
Could it be? Had Olivia gotten to her?
She breathed heavily in fury, the inside of her cheek raw from clenching her teeth.
“I was trying to show you mercy, Miss Seymour. I guess that was my mistake. I understand your intentions now. I’ll see you in court, then. Take care.”
Olivia turned away, her voice cold.
Panic flooded Evangeline. Her vision went dim.
There was no way high society would accept a merchant’s daughter caught in such a scandal.
If she couldn’t join their world anyway, letting Olivia walk away now would be foolish.
She would do whatever it took to achieve her goal.
“The princess.”
The sharp clack of Olivia’s heels stopped at Evangeline’s desperate cry.
“Princess Anneblin told me to do it… She said she’d let me into the royal tennis circle.”
Olivia slowly turned back.
“She told me to get rid of you…”
The shifting sunset light dyed Olivia’s white blouse a rosy hue.
Her eyes, glinting like silver-scaled fish in a lake, stared directly at Evangeline.
“Anything else you’d like to say?”
“…I’m sorry.”
Olivia’s smile softened. She gave a small nod.
“Can I count on you to testify to that in court?”
“Of course.”
“Good. Oh, and your maid won’t be coming back. You’ll need to hire a new one.”
With a faint smile, Olivia left the hospital room.
Angela Birkin, and now Evangeline Seymour.
Anneblin Grace Britte had one more noose tightening around her neck.
During yesterday’s chaos, Olivia had seen it. As Anne turned to call for medical staff, someone in the crowd had placed the bottle back onto the bench where Olivia had been sitting.
“It’s true I touched the bottle. But I only switched it back because the maid’s actions seemed suspicious. I didn’t mean any harm—I swear.”
The stadium staff member had denied it all.
Lies.
Olivia was certain.
Someone under Anneblin’s orders had been caught, and now they were trying to deflect the blame onto Evangeline just before the match.
Of course, Olivia had discarded the water and had the bottle thoroughly washed and refilled.
Still…
She hadn’t expected Evangeline Seymour to collapse.
The road to the finals now looked even more treacherous. But she wasn’t alone.
Stopping at the window in a corridor overlooking the hospital’s small garden, Olivia shyly waved her hand.
Down in the center of the garden, Edgar sat on the edge of a white fountain, smiling up at her.
Olivia gazed at him for a long moment before running down the hallway, painted with the colors of the setting sun—
Toward the man who was waiting for her.
Just before midnight at Greathill, Johan was greeted by a single telegram—the one he’d waited all day to receive.
His unfocused eyes immediately sharpened. Settling into a soft leather couch, he scanned the telegram carefully.
Morris, watching the difference in his gaze compared to when reading a letter from the Queen or the Crown Prince’s speech, could only click his tongue in awe.
The encrypted message read roughly as follows:
Surveillance Subject: Evangeline Seymour
Threat Neutralized.
VIP Security Ensured.
It was from one of the “sparrows” who had been stationed in Dumblein after the Anneblin kidnapping incident—not just for surveillance, but now for protection.
The code name confirmed it was one of the agents at the stadium.
“Morris.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Find out if Princess Anneblin was involved.”
The flickering gaslight cast sharp shadows along Johan’s angular features as he tilted his head back and covered his eyes.
“If not—make it so. Use whatever means necessary.”
Diane Brooke was enough.
There would be no forgiveness for those who ruined Olivia’s life and soul.
That was why Johan had no intention of showing mercy to Anneblin Grace Britte.
