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Chapter 48
“I would’ve appreciated it if you offered to escort me home,”
—that’s the reply Russell Junior had secretly hoped for.
If she wanted, he was more than willing to ride with her in the carriage all the way home.
“Of course.”
Olivia smiled brightly, effortlessly slicing through his expectations with a single word.
Russell Junior scratched his head awkwardly.
“I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“Not at all. I’m just glad you’re better. If anything ever troubles you, or if you find yourself in a difficult situation, don’t hesitate to reach out to me. If Miss Blanchett can lean on me comfortably…”
Just as Russell Junior, eager to win her favor, was about to put into practice something he’d read in an editorial titled What Is Chivalry?, a sleek black carriage slipped through the bushes behind her.
Russell Junior’s face immediately twisted in displeasure.
Confused, Olivia slowly turned her head.
Between the rustling leaves, the golden light caught on the double-R emblem of the Lancelot family crest.
“Edgar?”
His name slipped reflexively from Olivia’s lips.
And indeed, it was Edgar who stepped down from the carriage.
His unexpected appearance calmed Olivia’s heart. Lately, it always did.
She felt relieved, at peace. And when he appeared so suddenly like this… she felt happy.
“How was practice?”
The man who stopped in front of her asked with a charming smile.
Wearing a boater hat, white trousers, and a light blue-toned shirt with sleeves neatly rolled up, he reminded her of a breezy early summer day by the sea.
“Great. But what brings you here?”
She asked, watching the silvery-blue of his eyes crinkle beneath his dark, well-defined brows.
“There’s somewhere I want to take you.”
“Pardon?”
Olivia tilted her head slightly.
“Just get in. Let’s go in my carriage.”
With a soft smile, Edgar extended his arm.
“And where exactly are you kidnapping me to, may I ask?”
She teased.
“Let’s just say… somewhere you become an angel.”
An angel, the femme fatale turning into an angel?
“Does such a place even exist in this world?”
Olivia widened her eyes dramatically, making Edgar burst into laughter.
His attractive laugh sparkled under the clear sunlight, like the sound of waves crashing gently on a shore.
“If you’re curious, get in.”
Olivia gladly placed her hand on his arm. Then, she turned to Russell Junior.
“Thank you again for today, Coach. See you tomorrow.”
“Not at all. Looks like you have something urgent—go on, Miss Blanchett.”
The fox who played king in the tiger’s absence had to retreat now.
Standing between two people who treated him like he was invisible was embarrassing and humiliating.
As soon as they exchanged farewells, Russell Junior began backing away.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Just then, Edgar’s lazy voice caught Russell Junior like a hawk’s claw snatching prey.
“M-my father is looking for me. Nice seeing you. Then…”
Recalling the humiliation he’d suffered last time, Russell Junior fumbled nervously and quickly turned to leave.
“You too. Get in.”
Startled, Russell Junior gasped and turned back.
“Why?”
“Does it make you feel better, knowing why?”
Edgar’s voice dropped, staring him down.
His eyes, which smiled so warmly at Olivia, now darkened like the depths of a cave.
Their eyes met by accident—Olivia’s gaze held what felt like pity.
“If you really want me that badly… I suppose I’ll come along.”
Russell Junior stepped onto the carriage footboard, trying to preserve the last of his pride—only for Edgar to cut him off.
“You want to ride in here?”
“….”
Edgar’s voice remained kind, but his gaze brimmed with cold malice, pressing down on Russell Junior.
“Surely… you’re just going to shut the door for us, right?”
Russell Junior stepped back faster than the speed of light. Edgar leisurely boarded the carriage.
After Russell Junior politely closed the door, the carriage rolled away. The Dixon family carriage followed behind. For a while, a muttered “Damn it” echoed outside the window.
The Queen Theresia dropped anchor.
The wind was strong on the deck.
Johan narrowed his eyes as he gazed over the skyline of Litton, where tall buildings soared like competitors.
The upper floors of the Leopold Hotel stood out first, surpassing even the city’s famous clock tower. The sight was oddly satisfying.
“There you are.”
Catherine approached, holding down her hat brim with both hands as it flapped in the sea breeze. Princess Kranz walked with her. The princess’s rosy dress billowed and settled like a sail in the wind.
“We were about to come get you.”
Johan replied without turning his gaze from the gleaming golden building.
“I just felt cooped up.”
Catherine smiled brightly and looked toward the dock.
“Anne said she’d come greet us—ah! There she is. Anne!”
Leaning on the railing and peering below, Catherine waved enthusiastically.
Johan’s eyes followed her hand to the shore.
Princess Anne of Britt had seen her, too, and was waving in return.
“Olivia Blanchett, the shameless woman who dared covet the princess’s necklace and even the Marquis of Lancelot—her former lover. We question whether she only started playing tennis to imitate the princess.”
That newspaper article suddenly came to mind.
Johan stared down silently at the princess.
Could it be that the woman who had once been his wife had envied such noble blood?
If so, he could understand—except for Edgar Langster Lancelot.
At that moment, the lower ramp of the ship touched the ground with a mechanical sound. A few moments later, the captain approached Johan.
“Preparations are complete, sir.”
Johan gave a slight nod and raised the hand loosely resting in his trouser pocket to check the time.
Beside him, Irene’s eyes followed the movement to his wrist. He turned slightly.
“Let’s go.”
His voice held no particular emotion, carried off by the wind. Without a word, Irene placed her hand on Johan’s extended arm.
“Welcome, Catherine!”
Anne and Catherine, princesses of two nations, embraced with joy. Camera flashes erupted all around them.
As they walked along the cleared path through the crowd, Johan’s gaze wandered slowly.
As if searching for someone.
Catherine boarded Anne’s carriage. Behind them, the carriage carrying Johan and Irene sped toward the Britt royal palace.
Under the full bloom of summer, a new breeze blew over the roofs of the carriages speeding down their respective roads.
The vast prairie stretched endlessly.
They had left the city long ago, and Olivia still didn’t know their destination.
“Where exactly are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there.”
That infuriatingly relaxed smile, leaving people curious on purpose, was annoying—but Olivia turned back to the window.
Just as the endless fields seemed about to stop, the carriage entered a quiet forest path.
The scent of fir trees was refreshing.
The carriage began to slow as they neared the end of the unpaved, bumpy road.
When it came to a full stop, they were in front of a modest building with a white cross on its bell tower.
“This is…”
Olivia cautiously looked out the window.
“This is the orphanage sponsored by House Lancelot.”
Then why are we here?—that was Olivia’s unspoken question.
She turned to look at Edgar.
“I’m not the type to just take a beating.”
He said coolly.
The faint smile had disappeared, and in its place was Edgar’s characteristic composure.
“If they use the media to drag you down, then I’ll use it to rebuild your image.”
Edgar was usually generous toward exes. But if they dared to provoke him like this, it was another story.
Dragging Olivia Blanchett’s image through the mud—that was Anneblin’s declaration of war, her warning to Edgar.
There were many ways he could respond.
He could expose Anneblin’s private life, question the fairness of her championship wins, or even reveal the true story of her divorce—if he wanted to.
But he chose none of those easy routes.
He chose this quiet path for one reason only—Olivia.
Because she wouldn’t want him to go that far.
At some point, Edgar’s thoughts had started revolving entirely around her, as if she were placed at the highest point.
Of course, it was all out of consideration for Lancelot’s sponsored player for the Dumbleen Championship—nothing more. No romantic feelings involved.
“Let’s get out.”
Edgar stepped down first and offered his hand politely, a gentle smile returning to his face.
“So… we’re here to volunteer. At the House of Angels. To look good?”
“Is that so bad?”
Olivia had planned not to respond at all. But if she had to choose—fighting in the mud by slinging insults or doing something like this…
“This is fine.”
After a short pause, Olivia took Edgar’s hand and stepped out.
“Waaah!” A burst of bright laughter greeted her as a group of small children rushed over and surrounded her.
Their innocent, twinkling eyes stared up at her. As fitting as the name House of Angels, every child’s face glowed with goodness.
Olivia gently patted a girl’s soft hair. She, too, had lost her parents around this age. She wondered what her own eyes had looked like back then.
“Hi. I’m Olivia.”
“Hello. I’m Rosetta.”
The little girl’s voice, with wind whistling softly through her missing front teeth, was so adorable that Olivia couldn’t help but hug her tightly and laugh.
Was it the sunlight pouring over her, or her own smile that was blinding?
Edgar simply watched her in silence, like she was the summer sun itself.
He hoped this loveliness, this peace, would be captured well in photos.
And so, the summer afternoon faded gently with Edgar’s quiet wish.
