Olivia paused for a moment, staring at the man amidst the excited onlookers.
The man’s forearm was firm as he walked, gripping his racket. It was hard not to notice.
A servant took the racket from the man as he approached the bench and handed him a towel. The man wiped the sweat from his forehead with the towel.
When the man sat on the bench, a gentleman who seemed to be his friend handed him a glass. The glass, with a lemon slice and clear ice, had droplets of water trickling down. At that moment, a man from the opposite court sauntered over and grumbled.
“The ball’s not hitting well today.”
“Just today?”
The other gentlemen on the bench sneered and mocked him.
The men began lighting cigars and chatting idly, while the ladies, casting expectant glances, strolled around with graceful steps, pretending to take a casual walk nearby.
Olivia turned her steps toward the main building.
“Johann’s ex-wife. They say she’s in Litton, right?”
“That woman?”
Suddenly, a voice stopped Olivia in her tracks.
“They say my mother saw her from the ship. At first, she didn’t recognize her because she looked so plain, but when she got closer, she realized it was the Duchess. She was with a maid, it seems.”
“Johann’s wife was incredibly beautiful. Should I meet her?”
“Crazy fool.” The sound of chuckling spread, mingling with the cigar smoke, reaching Olivia’s spot. The unfamiliar scent mixed with the burnt wood and sweet chocolate in the air.
“You have to admit, for a woman with brown hair, she’s rare. Really beautiful.”
“She’s not overtly sensual, more like a delicate doe-eyed style.”
The conversation stretched on needlessly. Edgar took a slow sip of whiskey soda, his eyes lazily scanning the surroundings.
Passing over the green grass court, through the group of ladies dressed in a variety of spring dresses, they reached the entrance to the green wall by the riverside. At that moment, Edgar’s gaze suddenly stopped.
“Her eyes are pretty. Her skin is so pale that it makes her blue eyes stand out, just like that woman. Wait… is that her…?”
“Who?”
The eyes of the previously noisy group all turned to the woman, as if they had noticed her. Someone whistled loudly.
“Bingo!”
Incredibly, the woman was Olivia Blanchet.
Edgar Langoster Lancelot narrowed his eyes.
Under the shade of a large tree, where light and shadows seemed to unrealistically cross paths, there she stood, neatly dressed. The woman who had been the talk of the town. The wife of Johann.
The idle men began to chatter once again.
“Isn’t she just someone who looks like her?”
“Yeah, she probably is. If she knew about Johann and Edgar, she wouldn’t be here. She has honor, after all.”
“Why worry about honor after a divorce? Maybe she’s trying to get back at Johann.”
The noblemen chuckled again.
As they raised their glasses in a mock toast towards her, Olivia, startled, turned with her maid and hurried away. Her flared skirt billowed as she rushed.
“Confirmed on the guest list. It is indeed Lady Olivia Blanchet.”
“Right.”
Without taking his eyes off the paperwork, Edgar softly murmured.
Olivia.
Edgar rolled the name around in his mind as he signed the document with a pen.
Was Johann’s wife like that?
She was still beautiful. But the image of her as a forsaken figure of the Rondos Kingdom was nowhere to be found.
Above all, the woman he had met before had never had eyes like that.
She had a face that was so beautiful it would stay in one’s memory after a first meeting. Out of all the qualities required for marriage, the only thing that matched Johann’s status was her face, that pretty face.
Had he seen her two or three times?
Even in brief encounters that hardly counted as meetings, what left a strong impression was not the drunken behavior, but the woman’s face peeking through her loose, deep brown hair. Among them, her grayish blue eyes, as if covered by a cloud.
“What do you think her intentions are?”
Edgar asked his assistant Gerald.
For someone who had just played tennis and drank alcohol, his smile was refreshingly pleasant. The cool scent of his skin, fresh from a shower, added to the feeling of lightness.
“Maybe it’s revenge against her ex-husband.”
“Revenge, you say…”
“Maybe she came here to make a deal with you through confidential documents. Backstabbing her ex-husband and making some money.”
“Do you think so?”
Edgar signed the report in a flowing handwriting, placed his fountain pen back in the holder, and raised his gaze.
“Then why would she come here?”
Edgar silently raised the corner of his mouth.
Such sly tactics didn’t seem to suit the woman. Her eyes, full of story, didn’t appear to have a place for greed.
Whatever the reason, the woman who brought a thrill to his dull life wasn’t bad.
“We’ll send her an invitation. To Lady Blanchet.”
Whether she held confidential documents from Leopold’s company or not, it didn’t really matter. A night of pleasure wouldn’t be bad. She was beautiful, after all.
And if it could disrupt Johann’s composure, all the better.
“Do you think they knew about the Duke?”
“The maids at Great Hill say the Duke studied abroad in Brit. There must have been some connection.”
Anne replied, tying the ribbon at the front of Olivia’s nightgown.
“Is that so?”
Olivia responded calmly, though her voice trembled slightly.
The narrator of the story was the heroine, Clara. Therefore, she didn’t know anything that wasn’t her concern. Clara’s only interest was Crown Prince Christian. Of course, in the end, it was Johann Leopold who won her love.
“They seemed quite popular with the ladies. Do you recognize any of them, Anne?”
“I don’t really know about that…”
There was nothing that could spread faster among the gossip of the servants than the upper-class rumors, but it was a subject far from Anne’s world. For her, reading the newspapers or gossip magazines was a luxury.
Always following her lady like a shadow, Anne could not take her eyes off Olivia.
She was always a fragile lady. The moments when Olivia would have a fit and take sedatives before falling asleep were the only times Anne could feel free. During those moments, Anne was left alone to clean up the mess Olivia had made. The servants of the Duke’s mansion were always like a harsh winter when it came to Olivia.
Anne was now brushing Olivia’s luscious hair. The brush slid smoothly down the glossy strands.
Olivia sat quietly, entrusting her hair to Anne as she drifted into her thoughts.
When she woke up in the moment of death, she found herself in the world of the novel. But that no longer mattered. What mattered was how to live.
Even though she wore Olivia’s skin, she didn’t want to live her whole life as Olivia Blanchet. Especially not the life of a woman who was falsely accused of murder because of jealousy over her husband’s mistress and was sentenced to death.
Thus, she hastily divorced Johann. She didn’t want to be involved with anything related to him.
To a place where Johann Leopold’s hands could not reach, to a place where no one knew Olivia Blanchet.
She had crossed the ocean, leaving behind many countries on the continent, for that very reason. And now, one of those reasons had already fallen apart.
What should she do?
Should she confront it, run away, or pretend not to notice?
Her fingertips trembled slightly. No clear answer came.
She only wanted to live quietly, peacefully.
“Well, it’s done, miss.”
Anne’s voice snapped Olivia out of her thoughts, and she smiled brightly as she stood up.
“Thank you, Anne.”
Olivia started toward the bed when there was a knock at the door. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, it was nine in the evening—the time when the hotel’s evening tea was served.
Anne opened the door and took the tray from the room attendant. On the silver tray, along with the tea set, was a luxurious envelope tied with a gold ribbon.
“Shall we open it?”
Anne asked, and Olivia nodded without speaking.
She untied the gold ribbon, tore off the red sealing wax, and inside was an invitation card with a gold-foil border.
The Rose Ball. The traditional event of the Lancelot Hotel, held every May in the rose garden, was an honor to invite you.
“This Saturday,” Olivia read the invitation silently, glancing at the time and location.
“Are you going to attend?”
Anne asked carefully, remembering what had happened in the cafeteria.
“No.”
Olivia’s answer was short and cheerful. With a smile that lifted the spirits of anyone who saw it, she lifted her teacup.
She knew the invitation was a petty prank.
It was meant to remind a woman who once held an ill-fitting noble position of her current status. Additionally, they probably needed some entertainment to keep the ball from getting boring.
Olivia didn’t want to walk into that trap and become the scapegoat.
The women who were eager to embarrass her, the men making crude jokes about her—it was best to avoid the breeding ground of ugly rumors.
Johann Leopold had finally gone to the equestrian club after a long time. He had avoided going out until the fallout from the divorce calmed down, but, as always, life didn’t go according to plan.
Had it ever gone according to his will?
Their divorce had been as much of a hot topic as their marriage. Three weeks had passed, yet the newspapers were still full of sensational, unconfirmed articles. In particular, stories about Olivia Blanchet’s lovers had resurfaced.
“Olivia Blanchet spotted with her second lover in the Agent Kingdom.”
“Duchess Leopold elopes with her painter lover.”
When Johann appeared, the idle noble youths who had been gossiping raised their glasses in greeting and carefully studied his expression.
Pathetic fools.
Johann crossed the lounge and stepped outside, easily jumping onto his saddle. Unlike Johann, the horse, having not run for a long time, snorted and began to gallop energetically. Sitting on the running horse, Johann squinted against the sunlight glinting off the distant treetops.
‘Please divorce me.’
His wife’s soft voice echoed in his head.
