Edgar wore a polite smile, though he was trying hard to hide his disgust.
“Perhaps you remember me? We met at the Rose Ball. I’m so happy to have the chance to get to know you.”
“I’ve been cheering for you since the first day of the tournament, Miss Blanchett. Your skill is so extraordinary, isn’t it?”
The noblewomen, who had never been so friendly before, flattered Olivia as if they would give up anything for her. Just as Edgar was about to laugh at their antics, the gentlemen pulled him away.
“There’s some fine cigars from Argent here. Join us.”
He wasn’t particularly keen on it, but taking a break seemed like a good idea. It wouldn’t be so bad for Olivia to enjoy the sight of the women who used to look down on her now crawling at her feet.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
Edgar leaned in and whispered in her ear, looking very affectionate. His low voice was so charming that the noblewomen trembled with envy.
“Okay.”
Olivia nodded slightly, hiding her regret, and let go of Edgar’s arm. He gave her a small smile and turned away.
Olivia watched the man’s back as he walked across the vast hall and disappeared from view, before finally turning her head.
While Olivia chatted with the noblewomen, the first dance music began. One by one, the women left their tables to waltz. Even though her foot was still bothering her and she couldn’t dance, Olivia’s eyes still searched the ballroom for Edgar.
“I’ll be back.” Elaine said, linking her arm with her husband’s.
Olivia smiled and nodded, and Elaine winked at her before heading to the dance floor with her husband. The couples took their places in the center of the hall. As the music began, the elegantly dressed men and women started to slowly twirl, giving themselves over to the flowing melody. The light from the huge chandelier above them cast a brilliant glow.
The waltz danced by the fledgling players who were just making a name for themselves and the women who were more captivated by their looks than their skills was especially cheerful. Olivia sipped her champagne, quietly watching the people swaying like flower petals.
It was then that whispers from behind a fan reached her, mixed in with the soft music.
“Do you think the Marquis of Lancelot will propose tonight?”
“…”
A proposal?
Olivia’s ears perked up. People all around were whispering and glancing at her.
“Maybe during the fireworks. At the climax of the party. Just the thought of it is so romantic.”
Perhaps it was the champagne, but Olivia’s face gradually grew hot. Rumors were supposed to spread discreetly without the subject knowing, but how was she completely oblivious to a story that everyone seemed to know? Olivia was confused.
“I can’t wait. I’ll finally get to see the blue diamond ring. He truly knows the essence of romance.”
“I’m so, so jealous.”
Despite the envious looks of the noblewomen, the waltz melody spreading through the summer night air was only sweet. Olivia gently clutched the hem of her dress, her eyes wandering blankly around the ballroom, searching for the subject of the rumors.
‘Do you think the Marquis of Lancelot will propose tonight?’
The whispers of the noblewomen echoed in Olivia’s ears. It couldn’t just be a baseless rumor.
It doesn’t make sense.
A proposal?
“Are you disappointed?”
“!”
Olivia, who had been lost in thought, was startled and instinctively turned her head. Edgar was standing behind her. Like the flowers in the vase on the table, Olivia’s cheeks blushed shyly.
“You… you scared me.”
“Why were you so startled?” Edgar smiled disarmingly and leaned his body towards her.
“Wh-what are you doing?” A flustered Olivia backed away. He was too close. She was conscious of people’s glances.
“What were you doing that made you so surprised?”
‘Maybe during the fireworks. At the climax of the party. Just the thought of it is so romantic.’
Her heart pounded.
“I was waiting for you.”
His bluish-gray eyes, now brighter with the light of the chandelier, curved into a gentle smile. It was the look Olivia loved.
“Let’s start with a toast.”
Edgar raised his hand slightly. A nearby staff member carefully placed champagne glasses on the table. The sparkling golden waves under the lights looked like a brilliant future for the two of them, and Olivia’s heart fluttered.
“To the new queen.”
His low voice was wonderful. But even in such a romantic moment, embarrassment was still embarrassment.
“Please, I beg you. I don’t want to hear that anymore.” Olivia, her neck flushed red, said in a small voice.
Following the slender line of her neck where a blue vein was faintly visible, the brilliant sheen of a magnificent tiara rested regally on her lovely hair.
The new queen.
Olivia was the woman who perfectly fit that title.
“When do the fireworks start?” Edgar’s gaze now fixed on her blue eyes, which held only him. The expectant look on Olivia’s face was adorable. Edgar, who understood the meaning of her question, met her eyes and answered.
“If you wish, even now.”
Considering the cost of silencing the customers and reporters outside the jeweler’s shop that day, it felt a little pointless, but watching her cheeks flush so deliciously wasn’t bad.
Just as the transparent champagne glasses were about to clink, Gerald rushed over.
“Your… Your Grace.”
Gerald, who respectfully bowed to Olivia, leaned in and whispered something into Edgar’s ear. The contents were lost in the music, which had changed to an upbeat rhythm, but Edgar’s expression darkened for a brief moment before returning to normal as if nothing had happened.
“I’m afraid I have to step away for a moment.”
“Is something wrong?” she asked with a worried tone.
“No. There’s just someone I need to greet. It’ll only be a minute. You can be by yourself, can’t you?” Edgar asked teasingly.
“Of course. Go ahead.” Olivia replied with a faint smile.
Edgar stood up, gave Olivia a light kiss on the forehead, and left the ballroom with Gerald. Olivia watched the man’s retreating back. Just like when she had walked up the red stairs under a shower of bright flashes, her heart pounded again. The peculiar combination of joy from his gentle kiss on her forehead, the excitement of waiting for a proposal, and the anxiety of his retreating back washed over Olivia.
Johann Leopold was in the process of spectacularly falling apart.
Maurice had felt a pulse throbbing at his temple for a while now. The past month had been a series of unprecedented and unpredictable actions by the duke since he began his work as his aide. The duke should have been in Leiden, of course. There was a mountain of urgent work waiting for him in the Leopold Corporation office. But now, that same man had gone and disappeared without a word, despite his poor health.
“Find him immediately!” Maurice was genuinely angry.
“Don’t let any rumors leak outside. Find him quietly. Now!”
In truth, he was the biggest victim of Johann’s impulsive actions. He had just started a chance at something resembling a romantic relationship at the age of thirty-two, only to have it snatched away when he was dragged here. Honestly. If only he didn’t owe him his life from that carriage accident… To make matters worse, Grand Duchess Margaret Wellington was on her way from Lemont across the sea. It was a disaster of his own making.
Oh, my God!
When he rushed into Johann’s bedroom after an urgent telegram reported that the enraged grand duchess was personally crossing the ocean on a ship, he found only an empty bed and liquor bottles scattered on the floor.
Damn it, where did he go?
Annoyed, he ran a hand through his hair and looked up. Through the window, the Lancelot Hotel, lit up like a giant Christmas tree, came into view.
“…”
A chill ran down his spine, but Maurice laughed nervously and shook his head.
No way.
Even if he had hit his head, was drunk, and hadn’t been in his right mind lately, surely he wouldn’t embarrass himself by going there.
A man addicted to gambling fears nothing. And if that gambler is a drunkard, even less so.
Gerald looked at the shameless and utterly conscienceless reporter and clicked his tongue inwardly. The reporter, who was waiting for them in a crooked posture in the office on the top floor of the Lancelot Hotel, was the same man Edgar had hired to fabricate the scandal on the night of the Rose Ball.
“You need money, huh…”
Edgar exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke, dismissing the reporter’s lengthy threat with a single sentence.
“Well, something like that.” The reporter grinned. A foul stench of alcohol wafted towards them. A scab of blood was crusted around his mouth, where he had been beaten. He continued to speak, even as his face twisted in pain.
“I regret to say that this will probably be the last time. Of course, since it’s the last time, the amount I need is quite substantial.”
He had been on a winning streak, accumulating his winnings. The last game was a clear win. He had bet his entire fortune and lost it all on the spot. Beaten and thrown out after causing a commotion and accusing them of cheating, there was only one place he could turn. He calmed his fury and looked at the marquis with a desperate gaze.
“The last time…”
Edgar’s eyes narrowed. His low voice echoed in the heavy air, and the cigar smoke slowly dispersed.
“Yes. I swear to God, this is the last time.”
Of course, it was a lie.
The man anxiously rolled his eyes. Edgar calmly watched the vicious extortionist, who used his reporter status to dig up dirt on socialites and take money in exchange for silence, as he flicked the long ash from his cigar.
Gerald, standing beside him, gritted his teeth.
He’s worse than a pirate.
They shouldn’t have given in from the beginning. A person’s greed knows no end. But the real mistake was manipulating a scandal by bribing a man like him in the first place.
