Chapter 51

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 51

Chapter Title: Leopold Hotel Opening Party

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“Wherever you go, whoever you meet. I don’t care.”

The woman’s face was hidden behind her parasol. Her voice carried no emotion at all.

“But I can’t tolerate becoming a pitiful wife.”

The woman turned away.

The outline of the bones on the back of her hand stood out sharply over the lace gloves gripping the parasol handle.

“Just promise me that one thing.”

She meant whatever he did, keep it out of the public eye.

Her lips pressed tight, her face resolute, her deep brown eyes stared straight ahead without flinching—cold and unyielding.

“Me.”

Johann’s voice sank low.

“What have I done?”

Her eyes wavered in surprise at the unexpected reply, gazing up at him intently.

It was laughable, absurd. And this from a woman who had harbored feelings for another man right in front of her fiancé.

He hadn’t done a thing yet. Not a single thing.

The sun beat down mercilessly. Irritation welled up.

“...I meant be careful from now on.”

Irene spoke without averting her gaze. Sunlight shattered over her golden blonde hair, so much like Christian’s.

Her long, thick eyelashes, the gray eyes nestled within them—it was impossible not to think of Christian.

“If it displeased you, I’m sorry.”

From his reaction, it didn’t seem he’d gone to see that woman yesterday. Irene slowly pulled her eyes away and turned her body.

She had accepted the marriage thinking that if she couldn’t have Christian, this man who resembled him wouldn’t be so bad.

But this man was far too different from him.

“Is that all you have to say?”

The man asked indifferently, glancing at his watch.

“Yes.”

“From now on.”

Irene paused just as she was about to step away.

“Don’t give me reason to apologize.”

His utterly aloof gaze felt oppressively high-handed.

Even to a princess of a modest kingdom, he spoke this way—what must it have been like for a lowly illegitimate daughter?

Irene felt a twinge of pity for the woman.

Olivia sat lost in a daze, deep in thought. Then she suddenly shook her head. Her neatly trimmed hair swayed against her nape.

“Miss?”

Anne called out worriedly. The young lady had been acting strange since yesterday.

She couldn’t put her finger on it exactly, but something was off. Her flushed cheeks suggested she might even have a slight fever.

It must be because the duke had arrived. And with his fiancée, the princess, no less—small wonder she felt this way.

Could a love that had burned so fiercely, like a candle consuming itself without reserve, simply flicker out in an instant?

Anne’s heart ached for her. Still, this was something she had to tell her.

“Miss?”

As Anne leaned in closer and raised her voice, Olivia startled, whipping around with her rose-tinted face.

“...Ah! Anne. Were you calling me?”

Olivia’s heart pounded like a child caught red-handed.

It was all that man’s fault.

Ever since yesterday, his face kept shimmering before her eyes. It was bizarre.

Even when she’d opened her eyes that morning, those eyes like a sky scattered with sleet had lingered hazily in the air.

Startled, she’d squeezed them shut, only for the image to sharpen in embarrassing clarity. When she opened them again...

I must be losing my mind.

The thought made her face burn anew. Afraid Anne might notice, she couldn’t meet her gaze, fidgeting with her innocent fingers instead.

“What is it? Something wrong?”

“The carriage seems to be taking a strange route.”

“What?”

Olivia yanked back the curtain she’d drawn against the reporters and peered outside.

Anne was right. The carriage had entered the city but veered right onto the boulevard instead of left toward Riverside.

Olivia opened the side window toward the driver’s seat.

“Where are we headed right now?”

“Pardon?”

The McDowell family coachman sounded flustered by her question.

“The marquis ordered me to fetch you. I thought you knew—didn’t you?”

“...”

It was news to her. Puzzled, Olivia asked again.

“Did Gerald stop by?”

“He said he was from Lancelot Company, didn’t give a name, but he said it was the marquis’s orders and gave me this.”

The coachman shifted the reins to one hand and thrust something inside from his inner pocket.

It was a letter. Olivia took the plain white envelope, devoid of any seal, and stared at it for a moment.

Yesterday’s awkward incident stirred her heart again.

Was he avoiding her because of it?

No way.

Olivia shook her head at once.

He’s just busy. Busy people are like that.

She might be obtuse about such things, but that gaze of his—she could never mistake it. His desire had been so blatantly clear.

How could she not see it when he wore his feelings so openly?

Her earlobes flushed crimson.

She rubbed her face with her palm and lifted the postcard-sized letter. She opened the envelope and pulled out the contents.

At the top of the stationery, the Lancelot Company’s gold logo gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight filtering through the curtains.

「Escort her politely」

A sense of aristocratic elegance emanated from the slanted cursive script.

She didn’t know Edgar’s handwriting, but the signature below was familiar.

She remembered his flamboyant script from signing her identity verification at the Rondos consulate—it had left an impression.

Undoubtedly his signature.

“So where are we going, then?”

The man’s sweet voice, promising dinner at Grand Blue, echoed in her ears.

“To Lancelot Hotel, miss. Politely.”

“!”

Olivia’s sky-blue eyes widened in an instant.

Today was the day of the Leopold Hotel’s grand opening party—the event splashed across the morning papers and buzzing among Dumblin Club members.

And on this day of all days, the carriage was heading down Golden Avenue.

Oh God!

It felt like a bad omen.

Golden Avenue at dusk sparkled as always, with red sunset hues mingling with lavish illuminations.

Among them, the impeccably prepared Leopold Hotel drew every eye, its classical elegance elevated to majestic heights.

The entrance swarmed with reporters, the feverish coverage palpable. Silver flashes popped relentlessly toward arriving VIPs, embroidering the crimson sky.

Johann, who had spent the night in the hotel’s topmost suite, checked the preparations before heading downstairs.

As he dressed in his usual black suit, Morris recited the schedule once more.

“Smile after the ribbon-cutting for the commemorative photos—got it? Don’t forget to smile. Your speech is right after Crown Prince, and please, smile on the podium too—”

“Enough.”

Johann fastened his watch strap and gave his wrist a light shake, cutting him off.

The gold buttons on his black jacket gleamed under the yellow light, matching his neatly combed blond hair.

It was the Leopold Hotel’s signature color. Naturally, the opening party’s dress code was gold.

Johann turned from the mirror. An icy elegance born of noble blood flowed from him. Morris found himself admiring him anew.

“The princess.”

“Contact says she’s departed.”

Johann gave a curt nod and habitually checked the time.

His cool gray eyes fixed on the watch. That was all it took.

Yet an indecipherable gaze lingered there for a while.

If Edgar comes...

Will Olivia too?

Gazing down at his wife’s birthday gift, Johann’s eyes narrowed.

For a split second, his heart throbbed sharply. He averted his gaze.

Though the sensation was brief yet intensely vivid, some danger warned him not to delve deeper.

What was the point now?

His eyes turned cold and rational again as he straightened his jacket lapels.

The opening party for the Leopold Hotel—five years in the making—was about to begin.

The dress Catherine had picked on sight was a champagne gold evening gown with elegant draping details.

It perfectly accentuated Annblin’s toned figure, honed by tennis.

“Gorgeous, Ann. You look stunning.”

Catherine wanted to praise her own instincts.

“You too.”

Annblin slowly tore her gaze from the mirror, flashing Catherine a seductive smile. Her red-painted lips looked luscious.

Edgar will come too, surely.

Annblin thought of the man who had once been her lover. As the head of Britt’s premier corporation, he had to attend. Which meant that woman...

She desperately hoped the lowly illegitimate daughter would grace the event with her presence. Annblin turned with eager anticipation.

“Let’s head out.”

Annblin hooked her arm through Catherine’s.

As she stepped forward, the golden fringe cascading from knee to ankle parted dazzlingly, revealing her white leg.

Her heels clicked cheerfully against the peach-toned marble.

“Irene.”

Catherine, in her silk gown accented with gold lace, smiled brightly and extended a hand to Irene.

Irene clasped Catherine’s fingertips.

A gold diamond necklace sparkled brilliantly at the neckline of Irene’s elegant black dress.

Moments later, a lavish carriage bearing the princesses rolled out of the Britt palace, bound for the Leopold Hotel.

“You’re really not going?”

“No.”

Edgar’s answer was firm as he leaned against the window frame, arms crossed, contemplating the Leopold Hotel towering behind the Palais Hotel.

It looked like Litton’s social elite had turned out in force. Gorgeous carriages streamed in like an army of ants.

“Come on, sir—”

“I have a prior engagement.”

Gerald jumped at Edgar’s words as he uncrossed his arms, shoved his hands in his pockets, and turned away.

“Prior engagement? I’m your aide—what schedule don’t I know about?”

“It’s personal.”

The flat reply ended on a slightly lifted note.

What’s gotten into him? Gerald shot him a suspicious glance.

Edgar grinned and casually picked up the jacket draped over his chair’s back.

“You go in my place, Gerald. Give Johann my regards.”

As he slipped his arm into the jacket sleeve and flashed a bright smile, adjusting his collar and about to step off—a knock sounded. It was the secretary.

“You have a visitor.”

The secretary politely announced the sudden guest’s arrival.