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Chapter 23
Wish
The storm that had raged the night before had finally quieted down.
Olivia steadied her ragged breathing.
‘If only you hadn’t been in my womb… Elena, my daughter, could’ve started over. So make yourself useful—enough to make up for your mother.’
The Count, clutching the bank guarantee, ID, and passport, looked down at Olivia sprawled on the wrecked floor of the guest room with contempt, then turned and walked out.
It had been a night stained with merciless violence. Anne wept softly, but for some reason, Olivia couldn’t cry.
At six years old—when the business failed, her father died, and her mother left her behind—Han Ji-an had survived.
Everything had been a mess, and it felt like things couldn’t possibly get any worse, yet she hadn’t cried. Crying never solved anything.
This world was full of unfixable, uncontrollable problems.
Even so, she had never given up on life.
“Don’t cry, Anne.”
This was her second life, a gift like no other.
She couldn’t afford to lose it all.
Even if suffocated by the crushing weight of despair, as long as she was still breathing, she had to fight.
That was how Han Ji-an had lived. She faced a harsh world with nothing but her bare strength.
“Everything will be okay.”
Olivia whispered as she hugged Anne’s small, trembling back.
“Did you open the account here?”
Startled by the bank employee’s voice, Olivia shook herself from her thoughts.
“No. It was in Lemont. The Rondos-Lemont branch.”
“Are you from Rondos?”
“Yes.”
The bank employee remained strictly professional.
“It may take some time to verify. Your name?”
“…”
“Your name, please.”
“…O-Olivia Blanchet.”
Even the stiff, numbers-only banker wasn’t immune to the scandal of the Rose Ball.
That Olivia?
Wide awake now, the employee jerked his head up and stared at the woman through the iron bars. He pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes widening.
The same woman who’d snatched Princess Anneblin’s necklace—and allegedly her former lover too. The shameless woman who likely even followed the princess into divorce. And now she stood before him?
The dramatic makeup suddenly made sense. With that face, he’d probably fall for her a hundred times over.
“ID, please.”
“I… I don’t have it.”
“Passport?”
“No.”
The employee stared at her.
“You don’t?”
“No.”
Only then did she lift her head slightly, revealing her face under the wide-brimmed hat. It was a beautiful face—but badly battered. Had the princess done something to her?
No way, he shook his head. That noble, gentle, virtuous woman?
“It was all stolen along with the guarantee. Isn’t there another way? I have to stop it.”
Despite her vulgar makeup—unlike a typical lady from Litton—she looked desperate. That desperation was oddly alluring, and it softened the banker’s rigid, cost-benefit mind.
She was vouched for by major newspapers.
Then again, her face never appeared in those photos.
If it weren’t for his stickler of a bank manager, he might have solved it on the spot and even asked her to dinner afterward.
“You’ll need to file a report at the police station first. Then go to the consulate to reissue your ID and passport. That’s the proper order, Miss Blanchet.”
Her disappointed expression stung a bit, but it was the best a mere employee could do under his manager’s hawk-like gaze.
“What do we do now?”
“Let’s go to the consulate first.”
Olivia and Anne quickly got into a carriage and headed for the Rondos consulate.
But Olivia didn’t get the answer she wanted there either. The consular officer was even more rigid than the banker.
“Reissuing your ID will take about ten days.”
“Ten days?”
The Count Blanchet must have already arrived in Rondos.
It would take him only two days to forge a power of attorney using her ID, take the train to the capital city of Leiden, and handle matters at the International Bank headquarters.
She had to stop the account before that. Ten days was too long.
“Can’t it be done faster? Please.”
“Unless you fly to the Leiden Ministry of Foreign Affairs—which even then, no one can guarantee how diligent those officials will be.”
Olivia steadied herself and calmly re-explained the situation in detail.
“I understand completely. But there’s nothing I can do. Would you like to proceed with the form?”
The officer remained utterly indifferent.
“There’s really no other way?”
Olivia couldn’t back down.
The consular officer, a proud native of Leiden, was a patriot.
He loved Rondos, revered Duke of Edinburgh—his country’s hero—and especially admired his son, Johan.
A woman who had shamed such an honorable family? No way she deserved sympathy.
Even if there were a way, he wouldn’t help her. If only her face weren’t covered in bruises…
Who the hell had beaten her like this?
The rigid man felt a flicker of compassion. Maybe it was national kinship—she was alone in a foreign country, after all.
“If you have a guarantor who can vouch for your identity—then it’s possible immediately.”
“A guarantor?”
For the first time, a spark lit in her bruised eyes. Despite the bloodshot whites and dark bruises, her blue pupils remained pure. Caught in that clarity, the officer’s mind narrowed.
“It must be someone credible. Someone willing to take full responsibility if anything goes wrong. Like… the Marquess of Lancelot, for example.”
Of course, that powerful, arrogant man wouldn’t lift a finger for a divorced woman caught in scandal after a one-night stand. He’d bet his entire fortune on it.
The woman would come to her senses after his cold refusal.
The officer thought as he watched Olivia leave the office in a hurry.
The woman who stepped out of the black carriage ran toward the hotel entrance. Though her face was hidden beneath her wide, cumbersome hat, it was unmistakably Olivia Blanchet.
“Miss Blanchet.”
Edgar, just about to board his carriage for a lunch appointment, called out to her. She stopped on the stairs and turned around. Her skirt hem swirled like a wave.
“Ah! Mr. Lancelot.”
Her delighted voice wasn’t unpleasant.
In fact—it was quite lovely.
Noon sun had banished all shadows, and the wide brim of her hat fluttered in the wind as she ran toward him.
Her skin seemed especially pale today, and the tacky eye makeup and lip color made him scoff slightly.
But then he saw her battered face—results of the previous night’s silent complicity.
He had heard from the hotel manager about the state of the Count Blanchet’s room, but Edgar had ordered no action.
The Count was barbaric in how he treated his own granddaughter.
“Your face. What happened?”
“Oh… this… it just happened. I tripped.”
“Just happened?”
“Yes. Just… somehow. Anyway, I need to talk to you. Are you busy?”
Avoiding his gaze, she lowered her head, then lifted it again, her eyes now resolute.
“Is it urgent?”
“Yes. Very.”
Her blue eyes trembled with anxiety.
“If you don’t mind talking on the way, I can listen. Will you join me?”
Edgar politely extended his hand. This time, she took it without hesitation.
He smiled like a gentleman and helped her into the carriage. Capturing this cornered prey made even his absent conscience twitch slightly.
Flashbulbs were probably going off somewhere even now.
Hidden by the midday sun and city noise, the front of the hotel was the perfect hunting ground for high society gossip.
As the carriage moved, the golden hotel slowly faded from view. Peaceful scenery passed outside the window, and silence filled the space between them.
Edgar leaned back, enjoying the sweet quiet. He had no reason to rush.
Olivia fidgeted with her hands. Her face was hidden, only the oversized pink-ribboned hat in view.
The ribbon bobbed with the carriage’s motion. Beneath its shadow, he suddenly wondered what expression she wore.
“So. What’s the urgent matter?”
Only then did Olivia slowly raise her head.
She didn’t want to be involved with this man again. But the world didn’t care about Olivia’s resolve.
Please, just let me live quietly. Peacefully.
Maybe there were too many people praying to God. It seemed her wish had been overlooked. Otherwise, how could she be sitting face-to-face with Edgar Lancaster Lancelot?
She lowered her head again and tightly shut her eyes.
“Speak.”
His voice was soft.
When she left the consulate, she thought she could ask boldly. But now, the words wouldn’t come.
It was all because of that ridiculous scandal. Surely this man bore a bit of responsibility too.
That confidence vanished the moment she faced him, replaced by shame. He, too, was an undeserving victim of those rumors. That thought choked her words.
But if she stayed silent…
Olivia gathered her breath, organized her thoughts, and cautiously began.
“We made a bet, remember? A wish.”
“Ah! The bet.”
Edgar smiled faintly.
“I remember.”
So he did remember.
Olivia finally felt a sense of relief. Now it was a somewhat justified request.
“That wish. I want to make it now.”
Her desperate plea rang out clear and pure.
