Chapter 47

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 47

Chapter Title: Shameless Seductress

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since the Rose Ball, Olivia Blanchett had been at the center of all the gossip.

Of course, the early reports had mostly been negative.

But after the Dumblin Club incident, opinions about Olivia shifted in her favor.

Lately, though, the rumors that had quieted down were starting to churn up mud again.

"......Really. They're going too far."

Articles slandering Olivia Blanchett were pouring out day after day. And these deliberately sensational pieces were particularly provocative.

A shameless seductress cozying up to Marquis Lancelot, her ex-husband's business rival.

The illegitimate daughter who stole the princess's necklace and lover, and now even the designer. Next up, the queen of tennis's throne?

By this point, even people who had no interest in tennis were developing an unnatural fervor for the tournament.

Our princess, hailed as the queen of tennis, absolutely cannot lose to that disgraceful illegitimate spawn.

Everyone was united on the princess's side.

"Don't let it get to you, Miss."

Olivia narrowed her eyes in front of the mirror. The sunlight streaming in from the window reflected back, dazzling her.

Anne's heart ached. Seeing her lady try so hard not to show it only hurt more.

As Anne fastened the buttons on Olivia's new tennis outfit, she asked cautiously.

"Couldn't we just put out a rebuttal article?"

Marquis Lancelot could make that happen. Anne couldn't understand why they weren't using his influence.

He seemed like a man who existed solely to save her lady. Every time crisis struck, it became clearer.

Whether vouching for her identity as if she were a stranger, readily giving Anne a ride, or storming into Great Hill himself—every action pointed to one thing.

The marquis likes her lady.

That was Anne's conclusion.

She'd resented him at first when the scandal broke. But that was entirely the fault of those unscrupulous reporters, not the marquis.

"I'll just prove it with my skills."

Olivia brushed it off with a light laugh.

'She earned her entry with her body.'

She knew unspeakable rumors were circulating about her.

Reacting to every one would drive her insane.

The world sees what it wants to see anyway. She just had to show them.

Give it her all.

That was enough.

Once changed, Olivia stepped out of the changing room and walked down the corridor.

Passing the gracefully curving staircase and crossing the Hall of Fame, the stares from passersby felt endless.

Whether due to the vulgar articles or her outfit.

Anne thought it was the latter. And if she had to add another reason, it was because her lady was perfectly beautiful.

They passed through the colonnade and descended the wide stairs leading to the tennis courts.

The sounds of balls being hit here and there faded, replaced by sudden silence.

Olivia walked toward Court 12 without a care.

"......"

Russell Junior, already there warming up, went wide-eyed. Then he blinked rapidly.

"Ahem."

He didn't know where to look, but his eyes kept drifting. Russell felt utterly embarrassed.

"So...... this outfit......"

Russell Junior stared out at the vast sea, trying to speak, but trailed off. Olivia's pale limbs shimmered above the water's surface.

"Yes. I tried it on to check the fit. What do you think?"

Her usual gentle smile left Russell Junior speechless.

What did he think?

"Well......"

His mind went blank from the shock.

"......Ah, beautiful. No, it looks refreshingly cool."

Her brown hair was tied back with a white headband, revealing her dainty ears.

The dress was all white to match tournament rules, with lace-wrapped cover buttons running in a line up the bodice to her waist.

The problem was how short it was.

Sleeveless, with a hem that bared her knees, it accentuated Olivia's slender limbs. It was the kind of outfit that would leave men dazed and stuffy noblewomen faint.

"Shall we start? Coach?"

Russell snapped out of his daze and took his position. Olivia was already on the court, swinging her racket to warm up.

With her movements, the hem swirled above her knees.

Russell Junior sighed and served. He wondered if he'd even be able to move properly, distracted as he was.

But that was his misjudgment. He was the only one distracted.

Huff, huff. Moments later, Russell Junior's ragged breathing echoed across the club grounds.

To chase the balls returning faster than before, he had to sprint without a moment's rest, his soles burning.

Lighter clothing made Olivia's movements quicker and more agile.

Onlookers who had gathered before they knew it clicked their tongues in amazement.

As always, bets began.

Would the princess face Olivia? And if so, who would claim the trophy?

The women's singles, once an unpopular event, had become Litton's hottest topic.

"My vote goes to Olivia Blanchett."

"Mine too. Obviously."

Dumblin Club members, ignoring the newspapers' ravings, would bet on Olivia.

They were the only ones who knew her true skill.

The thought of raking in huge pots for accepting her brought satisfied smiles to their lips.

Olivia drained a glass of water cleanly.

Her ordered food soon arrived on the table, and she focused on her meal. Until someone sat at the empty table.

"I hear the Duke of Leopold is coming."

Her hand, busy with cutlery, froze.

"Yeah. With his fiancée, apparently......"

The man, who had glanced her way as if aware of her, trailed off and called the waiter to order.

Olivia's lips, puffed like a chipmunk as she chewed, stopped moving.

Her face, lit by slanting sunlight, was pale. Not just from fish caught in her throat.

"Didn't you know?"

Russell Junior slid her water glass over as she fumbled for it and asked.

After swallowing, Olivia gave a small nod.

She poured her heart into it—blisters forming on her racket-grip palms and court-pounding toes.

Her shoulders and wrists, abused for hours, throbbed in every joint, leaving her exhausted by the time she got home.

In that state, she didn't want malicious articles wounding her further, so she'd avoided the news on purpose.

Her appetite vanished.

"......I should head out first. ......Sorry, Coach."

Olivia dabbed her lips with a napkin and politely excused herself. She couldn't continue eating like this.

Good heavens!

Her ex-husband was crossing the ocean from afar.

Johann Edinburgh Leopold.

Olivia, who had fled Rondos certain she'd never see him again, found the situation utterly bewildering.

"Time to prepare for disembarkation, Your Grace."

Johann nodded curtly instead of replying and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

A long sigh mingled with pale smoke dissipating into the air.

As he dressed, the sunlight ripened to yellow.

Now in a pitch-black suit, his gaze drifted past his valet adjusting a blue tie.

Beyond the round porthole, land loomed distantly.

Britt, the kingdom Olivia had chosen, came into faint view.

'If anyone deserves hell for this, it's not me—it's you, Duke. Yourself.'

Diane Brooke's nonsense surfaced, and his hand unconsciously went to his tie knot.

"Is something uncomfortable, sir?"

Johann paused, then shook his head.

"No."

His sharp face spat the word briefly.

Hell, indeed.

As he donned the gloves offered by his valet and slowly buttoned them, his eyes lingered on his wrist.

'Do you know that, Johann?'

His wife's voice echoed. He couldn't recall exactly when. It was just everyday life, after all.

'While I was watching only you, you checked your watch nine times. ......Do you know?'

Olivia.

Johann's expressionless eyes caught the glinting golden second hand.

"All set, Your Grace."

Pulling from his reverie, Johann checked the time with narrowed eyes and nodded deliberately.

The valet bowed politely and withdrew.

Litton Harbor drew nearer.

Johann lit another cigarette.

Inhaling deeply and exhaling, the smoke spread thickly, like mist over Great Hill's lake.

Olivia's heart pounded ominously.

A woman slowly withering from love for her husband, ultimately consumed by madness and meeting a wretched end, stood vivid before her eyes.

A noose of thick rope around her neck, yellow bile staining her lips.

A snap, the trapdoor opened, and Olivia Blanchett's body danced in the air.

No!

Olivia shook her head fiercely. She desperately erased the sentences floating in her mind.

That won't happen.

"You okay?"

Russell Junior, escorting her to the carriage stand, checked her complexion.

A divorced couple wouldn't be on good terms, but how bad must it be? Since hearing of the duke's visit, she seemed gripped by fear. It tugged at his heart.

Then again, Johann Leopold—with his freezing aura and aloof demeanor—was tough even for another man to withstand. For a delicate woman, it must be unbearable.

"I'm fine, Coach."

Olivia offered a faint smile.

She'd be okay.

Nothing would happen.

Olivia calmed her troubled mind and composed her expression.

It's for the hotel opening—he'll leave right after.

Their paths wouldn't cross anyway.

Sticking only to home and Dumblin Club lately, she had no reason or desire to go near Golden Avenue.

Olivia decided to stop her negative thoughts there.

"Can you make it back alone?"