Chapter 33

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 33

Chapter Title: Conqueror of the Sanctuary

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Sunlight poured down onto the bright blue grass court.

Olivia, who had gathered her hair into a single tight ponytail, caught her breath. It was then that Edgar placed his hand on her back. Startled, Olivia flinched her shoulders and lifted her head. Their eyes met.

"Do just as you were doing with me."

Edgar whispered softly into her ear, as if they were holding a secret strategy meeting.

"Just keep doing that."

'Just do as you were doing with me. That's all you need to do, Jian.'

Those were the words her senior had spoken to her when she was tense before a mixed doubles match against another club.

In truth, Jian hadn't been trembling because of the match. Her heart had been fluttering from teaming up with her senior for the first time. He probably never knew that in his lifetime.

This man kept reminding her of that senior.

"......Yes."

A smile played on the man's lips at Olivia's docile reply as his face drew away. The breeze, carrying the warmth of the vast blue sea, tickled her earlobe. Summer was approaching.

A moment later, pang! The crisp sound of the racket striking the ball rang out across the grass.

That goddamn bastard.

Russell was inwardly cursing his own son, who was up against Olivia.

At first, the boy had played with impeccable gentlemanly conduct, but desperate to avoid the humiliation of losing to a woman, he had begun unleashing increasingly卑劣 attacks.

The problem was that they weren't working, and each time, his rattled son committed error after error. It was embarrassing; he could barely show his face.

Struggling against just one woman, of all things.

It made a mockery of the sport's reputation as a gentleman's game that prized manners. There was no dignity, no etiquette—it was a match where all decorum had been tossed aside. No matter how badly one needed to win, aiming the ball at the opponent's body was just too much.

That rotten bastard.

Gasp, gasp—breaths were being swallowed all around. If not for the no-jeering rule during matches, the boos would have been deafening.

A fast straight shot flew straight at Olivia's abdomen.

Olivia deftly twisted her body, nearly letting it graze her thigh before lofting it back with ease. Her opponent, caught off guard and not expecting the return, let the ball slip past.

Russell could watch no more and dragged a hand down his face.

He was cursing up a storm while only highlighting the opposing player's skill. In an official match, it would have been called a foul.

What a pathetic fool.

Olivia's play had surpassed all expectations.

Russell's second son, Russell Junior, had been a pro player before retiring. Yet here Olivia was, holding her own against a man with over a decade of racket experience, displaying astonishing prowess.

Good. Great. Perfect!

Henry was thrilled like he hadn't been in ages. His eyes never left Olivia as she dominated the court. Where had a talent like this been hiding all this time?

She was worlds apart from Annblin, who played with such elegant grace. Women's matches were typically like that—light and dance-like.

Olivia Blanchett was different. Her clean serves and sprinting dashes to the net evoked a sleek, perfectly honed black panther. She pursued the ball with the fierce glint of a predator, every movement brimming with dynamic power.

As the ball sailed back and forth over the net in a prolonged rally—

This one's out of reach.

Russell's son lobbed the ball toward the empty left sideline.

Won it.

For the first time since the match began, father and son allowed themselves a relaxed smile.

But only for a moment. From the far right corner, Olivia hiked up her skirt hem to her knees with one hand and kicked off the ground, charging forward.

The stuffy nobles' jaws dropped in unison.

My God!

Her pale white legs flashed across the sun-drenched blue grass, all for the sake of one ball.

The arcing ball passed its peak and began to descend.

No way.

Surely a lady wouldn't throw herself flat on the ground for a mere ball...

Contrary to those expectations, the men holding their breaths watched as their mouths gaped open once more.

Hah! Olivia let out a short roar as she launched her body through the air over the grass.

Pang! The ball flew off with a sharp crack, just as Olivia's body hit the turf.

The precariously returned ball crossed the net and dropped in the center of the court, clipping the stunned man once more before rolling out of bounds.

"Forty, fifteen!"

Olivia's victory on the point was declared.

Edgar watched the woman catching her breath on the bright blue grass, chuckling soundlessly.

Annblin, dressed simply in a black gown with gold chain straps over the shoulders, boarded the carriage.

"You look beautiful, Ann."

Crown Prince Alex called his only sister by her nickname with affection.

"Thank you, brother."

Annblin flashed a brilliant smile at Alex. The carriage headed toward the Royal Art Academy for the art exhibition, passing through the palace's golden gates.

Crown Princess Louise quietly observed the loving siblings. As always, Annblin ignored her. She had never greeted her first, and she wasn't doing so now.

"Good morning, Princess Annblin."

Only then did Annblin slightly turn her head to glance at Louise.

"Ah, yes."

It seemed like a gentle smile at first glance, but a closer look revealed the same cold gaze. Her eyes scanned Louise from head to toe, searching for any flaw.

Princess Annblin had opposed the relationship between Crown Prince Alex—who had attended the same university as Louise—and Louise ever since their dating scandal broke.

Even now, five years after Louise's first formal visit to the royal family, that unchanging gaze was pure contempt for a humble family from some rural backwater.

"Doesn't that hat feel a bit small?"

This time, it was the hat.

"Crown Princesses with larger faces always need to be careful when choosing hats."

No, it was her face. Louise offered a faint smile and listened quietly.

"You understand what I mean, right?"

With a bright smile, she capped it off in a way that made Louise seem slow-witted.

Swish. Annblin unfurled her silk fan and elegantly fluttered it, turning her gaze out the window. Sitting primly by the sunlit glass, the princess shone like a haughty jewel.

"I always appreciate your guidance."

Louise, smiling broadly, looked up at her husband.

When she had first married in, she had cried endlessly.

Accusations of her accent lacking refinement filled her with terror every time she faced people, and taunts about her waddling like a duck while dancing had her practicing until her feet blistered.

Being ostracized at tea parties was routine, and deliberately feeding her false information to embarrass her was commonplace.

Louise had strived for approval, opened her heart to make friends. Only when she had finally perfected the image of an ideal crown princess did she realize it—all her efforts had been futile.

The princess simply disliked her. For no other reason than her lowly origins.

"I picked out that hat for her."

Alex said, locking eyes with his wife. Annblin scowled and turned to glare at her brother.

"You thought that looked good, brother?"

"The hat doesn't matter, Ann. As long as Louise's face looks good."

His eyes sparkled like a man still passionately in love. Louise blushed.

If Annblin weren't there, he looked ready to make love right in the carriage. The sight irritated Annblin.

Annblin had wanted her friend, Princess Catherine of Rondos, to become her sister-in-law. That made her despise Louise even more.

She couldn't stand how her brother had fallen for such an insignificant fool, despite having no reason to love her so deeply.

Seeing Louise shyly blush at her husband's wrist kiss, Annblin thought of Olivia Blanchett.

Were all men mistaking pity for love when it came to women in pitiful circumstances?

Otherwise, there was no explaining Edgar's attitude toward that woman.

Yes, pity.

Dismissing Edgar's feelings as mere pity lightened the heavy weight pressing on her heart.

"That tickles, dear."

Louise giggled shyly, gently pushing away the crown prince as he nuzzled and kissed her wrist.

She naturally picked up the newspaper she had set on the seat.

"Any important articles?"

Alex asked.

"Yes. A very interesting one."

Louise smiled like a cat, glancing at the princess. Annblin sat rigidly like a doll, staring out the window.

She must not have heard the news yet, busy with her morning primping.

"Have you read the article about the Dumblin Club?"

Louise raised her voice slightly.

"Ah! The Conqueror of the Sanctuary?"

"Exactly. Olivia Blanchett."

At that moment, the fan fluttering like a spring breeze stopped dead. Annblin turned to Louise.

"Conqueror of the Sanctuary? What does that mean?"

To the princess feigning composure, Louise handed over the newspaper instead of answering.

"......!"

Annblin's eyes widened.

The morning paper started with a bombshell.

"What is this......"

Her scarlet lips trembled, unable to continue.

She could feel her eyes freezing over as she read down the article.

Louise burst into inward laughter at the sight.

She hadn't liked daughters of humble houses to begin with. How much more intolerable would it be to be compared to an illegitimate child born of adultery?

"She really seems like an amazing woman. Don't you think, Princess?"

Just watching the haughty, arrogant princess lose her composure before Louise made all her past grievances melt away.

Louise quietly covered her mouth with her fan, savoring the moment.

Annblin steadied her faltering breath with effort, gripping her trembling hands and focusing on the article.

With this, she became the first woman to break the taboo of the Dumblin Cricket & Tennis Club...

Impossible.