The rose garden, bathed in the light of the stained-glass lamps, was empty. Sarah Pavlova was nowhere to be seen, making Olivia wonder if she had been mistaken. She could have ventured deeper inside, but she decided it was not a good idea to overexert her still-healing foot. She was disappointed she couldn’t say hello, but she decided to give up for now.
Edgar might be back.
Olivia, now far from the festival of lights, turned around, following the wind that rustled the rose branches. She walked slowly through the enchanting night scenery of the rose garden, which was in full bloom. Like the night of the Rose Ball, a night filled with memories of Edgar, the roses bathed in moonlight shone lusciously.
‘Will the Marquis of Lancelot propose tonight?’
The voice ringing in her ears made her heart flutter again. Ignoring the pain in her foot, her steps began to quicken.
What kind of expression should I make? What if my heart stops from being so nervous?
The promenade, bathed in the light of the streetlamps, looked incredibly romantic. The scent of roses, carried by the wind that had crossed the Vichen River, was so sweet. It was then, when even the faint moonlight, veiled by a halo, seemed beautiful, that her peace was shattered by an unexpected voice. It was just as she was turning the corner of a hedge.
Startled, Olivia froze and hid behind the hedge. Small embers, like fireflies, moved in the black void and were coming toward her.
“This season was absolutely amazing.”
A group of young gentlemen, puffing on cigars, snickered and took a seat on a nearby bench. They were Edgar’s acquaintances whom she had seen on occasion.
“Recruiting Olivia Blanchet was a stroke of genius. For Edgar to have noticed such a dark horse… he’s a very lucky man.”
“The sales profit was five times that of last year. A clash between a noble princess and a lowly bastard! He’s a genius at business, I tell you.”
“On top of that, he’s got such a beauty on his arm.”
Their vulgar laughter and the acrid smoke from their cigars were carried by the wind. In an instant, the emotions that had been fluttering in Olivia’s chest dissipated into the air like a hazy smoke.
The words were not pleasant, but they were not a new truth. They were no different from the biting articles the newspapers had been spreading every other day. She had ignored them with indifference, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t bothered by them. Nevertheless, she had ignored them before, and she could do the same now.
Olivia quietly left the spot. As she circled around in the opposite direction to avoid them, she got lost in the labyrinth garden. When she came to her senses, she had wandered into a deep part of the garden where the light from the banquet hall couldn’t reach.
Olivia stood there blankly.
‘The sales profit was five times that of last year. A clash between a noble princess and a lowly bastard! He’s a genius at business, I tell you.’
The words the men had exchanged pierced her like daggers. The top of her foot hurt.
Olivia let out a long sigh. She tried to compose her expression and regulate her breathing. When had the world around her not been malicious? She shouldn’t be swayed by every little thing.
Edgar is waiting.
Olivia decided in the darkness of the labyrinth garden where she stood alone.
Just think of that man, Edgar. Just think of the future we will have together, a future that will shine as brilliantly as golden champagne…
It was then that a single ray of moonlight shone through. As Olivia was about to take a step toward the light, a long silhouette was climbing the pergola stairs at the other end of the hedge path.
Edgar’s narrowed eyes glared fiercely at the woman as he slowly exhaled the smoke he had deeply inhaled. Sarah Pavlova smiled sweetly.
“When you think about it, losing in the finals and losing in the first round of the preliminaries are clearly different.”
“And you’re just realizing that now?”
Edgar snapped coldly.
“Why do you think I’m just getting it now? Losing to Olivia Blanchet was worth three times the prize money, but it felt like a loss. I lost my honor.”
“The one who was dragged around like a dog seemed to be you, though. Don’t you think?”
“My acting has gotten quite good. I’m a top-ranked player; I can’t just lose so easily.”
A white, hazy smoke rose between them like a mist.
Pfft, the smoke scattered with Edgar’s laugh, revealing the woman’s face. Her glistening, jet-black eyes were like a snake’s.
Where was the end of a foolish person’s greed?
“So, I need to get something in return now.”
Sarah Pavlova, who had a solid build like an athlete, looked straight at Edgar and continued,
“Since Olivia Blanchet broke the wall of Princess Annabelle. I plan to take that spot next year. With the full support of Lancelot.”
Sarah Pavlova smiled, showing her white teeth.
“After all, that spot was always mine.”
Her silver hair gleamed chillingly in the moonlight that filtered into the ivory marble pergola. Edgar frowned, tapped the end of his cigarette, and put it back in his mouth. The moment his cheeks hollowed out, their eyes met.
“If you haven’t forgotten my contribution to Olivia Blanchet’s victory, I’m sure you’ll grant my request. And you know this isn’t a negotiation, right?”
As she said, it wasn’t a negotiation but a threat. Edgar had no other alternative. Damn it.
His gray-blue eyes narrowed through the hazy cigarette smoke. The moon, swallowed by the clouds, disappeared, and the surroundings instantly became dark.
Olivia, who had collapsed behind a rose bush, covered her mouth. Her trembling hands were pale in the dim moonlight that had emerged from behind the flowing clouds.
Edgar’s brisk steps, which had been striding across the banquet hall, slowed down and then stopped. His neat forehead slowly creased.
Edgar looked at the faces of the women who were looking up at him, one by one. In the place where Olivia should have been, there were noblewomen with heavy makeup and strong perfume, chattering away. They seemed quite flustered when they saw Edgar.
“Oh my! Marquis, you’ve arrived?”
The noblewoman who had given Olivia perfume greeted him with a bright smile.
“Olivia.”
His low, husky voice was somehow eerie. The women were flustered. They were taken aback, having lost track of time while chattering. They had only just realized that Olivia, who had left her seat as if she would be back soon, had not yet returned.
“Where did she go?”
Edgar slowly raised one eyebrow.
“Ah! Miss Blanchet said she was going to say hello to someone and left for a moment. Perhaps their conversation is taking a long time.”
The woman looked around the hall and, with no luck, looked up at Edgar. His gaze was so fierce that it was clear he thought they had made Olivia uncomfortable and chased her away.
“It seemed like it was someone she was happy to see. Seeing how she got up so quickly…”
The noblewoman who was telling him of Olivia’s whereabouts trailed off, her neck prickling with a sudden chill.
“Is that so.”
Edgar slowly turned his head. His gaze, which meticulously swept over the hall under the magnificent light of the giant chandelier, was dark and heavy. He did not look like the Marquis who always wore a charming smile; he seemed particularly somber today.
“Who was it?”
The Marquis’s voice, which didn’t even try to hide his blatant expression, was sharp.
“We don’t know that much.”
Edgar frowned. At the same time, the noblewomen’s hearts shrank. The women exchanged glances. An unspoken agreement was made to avoid the inevitable backlash.
“She said she would be right back, so she must be coming soon. We’ll be going now.”
The noblewomen, glancing nervously at Edgar, gathered their things and moved away.
Edgar once again meticulously scanned the hot, crowded hall. Olivia was nowhere to be seen.
Maybe in the lounge? Or the powder room?
He sent Gerard to check. It was not a situation he couldn’t understand, thinking she was having a quiet chat with an acquaintance she hadn’t seen in a long time.
Edgar finally sat down and brought his hand to his chest. He felt a small box bulge. It was the box containing the blue diamond ring.
Lancelot or the girl.
His choice, without a moment’s hesitation, was Olivia. He had planned to propose at the moment of victory, with everyone watching. It would have been the perfect timing, at least until Annabelle ruined the mood like that. It was a little later than planned, but it wasn’t a bad night to propose. It might even be romantic enough on the balcony, where the fireworks decorating the night sky looked the most beautiful.
Edgar waited for Olivia, sipping from a champagne glass. When the round glass was half-empty, Gerard returned.
“She is not in the lounge.”
Edgar’s dark eyebrows twitched.
“In the suite.”
“I haven’t checked there yet.”
“Go check.”
“Yes.”
How much time had passed? Edgar lowered his wandering gaze to check his wristwatch and frowned. It was well past eleven o’clock. The party was already nearing its end.
“I don’t think she’s in the hotel.”
“…”
At Gerard’s report, Edgar pulled down his black bow tie and undid the button on his collar. The languid series of movements seemed tedious, but Gerard, who had served him for a long time, knew. His reason was slowly evaporating.
“Find her. Again.”
His voice, a heavy sound that was punctuated one syllable at a time, was heavy.
“Understood.”
At the repeated command, Gerard quickly disappeared from the banquet hall. Edgar’s gaze, fixed on Gerard’s back, flickered ominously. The melody of the beautiful waltz, the last dance tune, was strangely distorted, beating against his heart with an unsettling rhythm. The feeling of déjà vu that had been bothering him for a while was slowly beginning to take shape.
Olivia was gone.
