Chapter 45

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 45

Chapter Title: A Chance to Make Up for the Mistake

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“Tennis wear is a first for you, isn't it.”

It was a tone thick with irritation.

“……Yes.”

Miss Mitchum lowered her gaze as she answered.

“Have you ever played a match?”

She disliked not just tennis, but horseback riding and even boating.

Any activity under the sun was a surefire way to ruin one's skin.

“……No, Your Highness.”

Annblin furrowed her brow.

What more was there to discuss with someone like this?

Annblin ruthlessly ordered the woman to be sent away.

Miss Mitchum's pleas for another chance faded as the door closed, but Annblin's head throbbed.

Were there truly no talented people left in Britt?

“Look again.”

As she walked behind the partition, Annblin instructed her secretary Cecil to scout a new designer.

This was the third time.

The veteran designer famed for tennis wear had been too outdated, while the inexperienced one had focused only on superficial flair.

At this point, regret over hastily dismissing Madam Lauren was starting to creep in.

The design sketches Madam Lauren had proposed lingered vividly in her mind.

They had felt so fresh—she had thought they were just like Madam Lauren.

She had wanted to wear them at this tournament.

Bite marks stood out sharply on her red lips, which she had pressed hard.

The necklace incident made her utterly infuriating. But in return, Eve Lauren's boutique had taken a massive hit.

All its stores in Litton's department stores had been forced to close, and even the glamorous Buchanan flagship was temporarily shuttered.

That should be enough.

“I've changed my mind, Cecil.”

Annblin said to her secretary after changing clothes.

“Call that woman back.”

“You mean Miss Mitchum?”

Cecil asked again, unable to grasp the princess's intentions.

“No. Madam Lauren.”

“…….”

Her expression showed a firm decision after all the previous deliberation.

The long afternoon sunlight of summer cast shadows across the table, tracing the patterns of the lace curtains.

Even after Anne quietly set down the teacup and withdrew, the two women remained silent for a while.

Olivia hadn't expected the person Edgar said he would send to be Madam Lauren.

She hadn't yet decided how to handle this situation.

She couldn't trust a Madam Lauren who had ignored her client's wishes, so sending her away would have been right. If not for Edgar.

“I'm sorry, Miss Blanchett.”

Madam Lauren finally spoke, offering an apology.

Olivia gazed silently at Madam Lauren.

“I mean it sincerely.”

The sunlight pooled in the teacup, from which no more steam rose.

Her gaze, which had been fixed on Olivia, dropped there, then lifted again, filled with defiance.

“Give me a chance to make up for my mistake, Miss Blanchett.”

'She might not accept me. But that's my condition for the acquisition.'

Those were Edgar's words when she had gone to him with her business plan.

So she had to make Olivia choose her no matter what.

If that's what Olivia wanted, she could even kneel.

She never imagined bending the pride that hadn't yielded even before a haughty princess, but it didn't matter now.

“Why should I?”

Madam Lauren's eyes twitched faintly at the cynical voice. She felt deceived by that seemingly fragile appearance.

Eyes she had thought like a clear lake now seemed like the depths of an abyssal sea.

“Please leave.”

Olivia said firmly.

This was none of her concern. Whether Lancelot acquired Lauren or vice versa.

She still couldn't forgive Madam Lauren for using her, and she had no desire to work with someone like that again.

This won't be easy.

Sweat beaded down Madam Lauren's back.

“You don't have to accept my apology. I won't beg for mercy. I wouldn't forgive easily either, Miss Blanchett.”

Madam Lauren straightened her back and met Olivia's gaze.

“But shouldn't you give me at least the bare minimum chance?”

Olivia was so taken aback that words failed her. This was the most brazen apology she'd ever heard.

“I don't want to work with someone I can't trust.”

Olivia's stance was unyielding. Madam Lauren couldn't back down.

There was a cliff behind her, and losing Lancelot meant no place for her in Britt.

At her still prime age, to end up owning some rural tailor's shop?

“If you can't trust me, then don't. Instead...”

Her eyes, weary from middle age, burned with resolve. Clutching her skirt, Madam Lauren said,

“Use me.”

“…….”

“Use me, Miss Blanchett.”

The faint wrinkles at the corners of Madam Lauren's eyes trembled faintly.

“There's no designer in this country who surpasses me.”

“And yet you disappointed me with that exceptional talent of yours.”

It struck Madam Lauren right in the core. Her red-painted lips pressed into a tight line.

No matter how eloquent, she couldn't respond in this situation.

But she had to survive. She slowly lifted her head, which she had averted.

“My life is in your hands. Use me however you want. I'll do anything you ask. So...”

Her hoarse voice was desperate.

“Please, take me on, Miss Blanchett.”

Madam Lauren knelt.

The slanting sunlight bathed the drawing room in golden hues. A heavy silence fell, and time flowed slowly over it.

“Today...”

Olivia finally broke the silence.

“You've incurred a great debt to me, Madam Lauren.”

The emerald ring on Madam Lauren's hand scattered faint glints that shook slightly.

“You will repay that debt. Without fail.”

Olivia sat upright, her blue eyes calm. Her refined features stared straight at Madam Lauren.

“……Thank you.”

Madam Lauren lifted her stiff neck.

The pride that had never bent even before a princess of the realm had snapped easily before Olivia Blanchett.

“I won't disappoint you.”

At least as long as she was partnering with Edgar, it was sincere.

A sudden silence descended upon the powder room, filled with the refreshing spray of the grand fountain and bright laughter.

Annblin raised her trembling hand. The maids who had been tending her hair paused and stepped back.

Annblin, staring into the mirror, slowly turned her head.

“……What did you just say?”

She had heard clearly, but couldn't believe it.

“Madam Lauren refused.”

Cecil bowed her head apologetically.

“Refused?”

In this utterly unexpected situation, fury flickered in Annblin's eyes.

A mere seamstress daring to...

It was as humiliating as being compared to a bastard child.

“What was the reason?”

“…….”

Cecil hesitated to speak. She worried the already volatile princess would be deeply hurt.

As she only moved her lips, Annblin snapped coldly.

“Cecil. Tell me.”

“……M-Marquis Lancelot has acquired her.”

Annblin frowned at the sudden name.

“Edgar?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Blue veins bulged on the back of her hand gripping the armrest. She struggled to calm her quickening breath.

'You're the one who said we were over.'

Edgar's cold, indifferent words stabbed her heart like a dagger.

'We're done.'

When she had gone to him first after the divorce, sobbing apologies, he had been merciless.

“That's no reason she can't come to me.”

Edgar wouldn't have blocked it. He was heartless but not petty.

She hadn't done anything wrong enough to deserve such treatment from him.

If Madam Lauren had refused out of personal grudge from the previous incident, she might have magnanimously shown mercy.

“Tell me, Cecil.”

The hesitating secretary reported.

“Well... she said she's been assigned to Olivia Blanchett.”

“…….”

Annblin's face paled as if doused in ice water, her jaw trembling.

“No way... on Edgar's orders?”

“According to Madam Lauren.”

Annblin's reddening eyes brimmed crimson. Betrayal sent shivers through her body.

How could he... how could he do this to me...

A breeze blew through the wide-open window.

Carrying hot air, it drew Annblin toward the terrace.

The flower-covered garden looked grotesquely blood-red today.

“I need to see Edgar. Prepare for it.”

After a long moment, Annblin forced the words out.

She held back tears that seemed about to fall.

Edgar gazed languidly at the sunset over Litton's streets.

With the Dumblin Championship's opening day approaching, he had more work than usual, so an unannounced visitor was unwelcome.

Especially if that visitor was the princess.

“How... how could you do this to me...”

Annblin bit her lip, voice breaking into sobs.

His gaze was so detached it bordered on cold. It was unbearable.

He had been her first love.

The passionate memories with him still ached in her chest, vivid as if from yesterday, driving her mad.

She resented this man who seemed utterly unmoved.

“You're too much. Really, too much. You.”

Seeing the face of the beautiful man in whose arms she had once fallen asleep, her pent-up tears fell helplessly.

Edgar looked at the woman with emotionless eyes.

Here we go again.

A weary sigh escaped him.

“How... could you even steal my designer from me?”

The quiet tears soon turned to sobs. They showed no sign of stopping.

Edgar closed his eyes tightly. How was he supposed to make her understand? Irritation was building.

“What's the reason for going this far? Is the rumor about thieves at your hotel true? Are you being blackmailed by that woman?”

Edgar burst out laughing.

Annblin blinked her long lashes, wet with tears, in shock.

“Listen, Princess.”

His low voice made her stop her hiccuping sobs.

His deep gray-blue eyes narrowed as if facing something horrific.