Chapter 57

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 57

Chapter Title: Johann's Suspicion

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A large plate covered by a silver dome sat on the round table. Johann lifted the dome.

Whether by coincidence or not, it was sea bass fillet, Olivia's favorite.

The aroma of basil pesto mingled with the nutty scent of butter made his stomach growl.

Come to think of it, he realized he hadn't eaten anything since dinner the previous night.

"Come sit down."

"......I'd rather just go."

His stomach was empty, but thoughts of the Krantz princess killed his appetite. He didn't think he could swallow a bite.

He couldn't imagine calmly slicing into sea bass in his ex-husband's room. He'd surely choke on it.

"You can't leave. I told you."

"If I dress as a man and slip out the back door, it'll be fine. If you just get me some clothes."

Olivia's eyes were quite resolute.

"Eat first."

"This isn't proper."

Was she always this stubborn? Johann quietly watched Olivia standing her ground so steadfastly.

Summer sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows, painting her face a soft, clear white.

He wanted to grab her shoulders and make her sit.

"If you want to know who's behind it."

Olivia's eyes finally widened in reaction.

"Sit."

Johann sat first, but Olivia still hesitated.

"If you're worried about my fiancée, don't be. She went back to the Britt Palace yesterday. Now sit, please."

Olivia, who had been wavering, gathered the hem of the oversized Mackintosh coat and sat across from him.

"Did you find out who's behind it?"

Johann picked up the cutlery and began slicing the sea bass into small pieces, speaking in place of Olivia, who hadn't touched her utensils.

"Annblin Grace Brita."

"......"

A gentle breeze billowed the pale lavender silk curtains. Hearing that name carried on the wind left Olivia stunned.

A princess of a nation committing such an outrageous act?

"No way."

Why?

Why would she go that far?

Olivia furrowed her brow and let out a hollow laugh.

Edgar. Because of that man?

Her fist clenched on the table. Johann watched her silently.

The McDowell coachman had been bribed by the princess.

He denied it vehemently, but extracting a confession was only a matter of time.

Angela Verkin had already spilled everything.

The coachman had knocked Olivia out with anesthetic and handed her over to a grocer clerk. That shop had a supply contract with the Leopold Hotel.

The clerk, claiming he'd forgotten, belatedly delivered a sack of potatoes, which he passed to a hotel staff member.

The staffer, bribed by the princess, took a pre-stolen room key and headed to 3016.

With the sack loaded onto a trolley and covered by a white cloth.

And the princess's bribed reporters and stooges herded people toward room 3016.

It had been a near-perfect kidnapping plot.

"......That's too much."

Just hearing the details from Johann made her mind reel.

If she had woken up in that room with him and been discovered...

A chill ran down her spine.

"We'll handle it by the book, so don't worry."

Johann placed the plate of neatly portioned sea bass fillet in front of her as he spoke.

"No."

Johann's gaze, fixed on the plate, lifted to her face and paused.

"Don't do that."

Her voice was firm.

A full day had passed since Olivia vanished.

She hadn't shown up at Riverside or the Dumblin Club. She must be at the Leopold Hotel.

Edgar stared at Johann's hotel visible beyond the window, arms crossed.

His eyes were red from a sleepless night.

"Olivia is..."

Edgar asked Gerald.

"The upper floors are restricted access, so we haven't confirmed yet."

She's probably there.

With Johann.

Golden sunlight shattered brilliantly over the top floor of the Leopold Hotel where she likely was.

What must it feel like to reunite with an ex-husband after divorce?

It was a realm Edgar couldn't fathom.

He pressed a hand to his gritty eyes and murmured.

"Leave."

Gerald, who had been gazing worriedly at Edgar's back, suddenly remembered his errand.

"Marquis McDowell is here."

Edgar turned slowly.

"Bring him in."

Moments later, Henry McDowell appeared.

His expression wasn't great, caught in an awkward spot by what he meant as goodwill. He sighed upon seeing Edgar, unaware his loaned coachman would pull such a stunt for Olivia's convenience.

"You've come."

Edgar bowed politely.

"Sit. No need for tea."

Gerald withdrew, leaving an uncomfortable silence between them. After a moment, Henry spoke heavily.

"I'm coming from seeing Crown Prince Christian."

"Yes."

It was as expected. And the topic Henry would bring up next.

"He wants this incident covered up."

Henry's face was stern.

As anticipated. Edgar swallowed a bitter laugh.

What else would the crown prince, who spared no effort for his sister, do? But what could be done?

"I can't do that."

Edgar stated firmly, laced with scorn.

He wasn't in the mood to compromise with anyone right now. Not even with Britt's crown prince.

He would repay what was done to him in kind. That was all.

"Do you even understand what that woman did to you?"

Johann eyed Olivia with clear displeasure.

"I know. That's why I'm saying to hold off for now."

She sat ramrod straight, her gaze lowered calmly.

There was no trace of the old excitability or hysterics.

Now that he knew those maddening, infuriating behaviors had been caused by the drugs Diane Brooke fed her, he had to exert extreme patience to stay composed.

"Why."

Johann's voice was heavy, his anger subdued.

"I want to compete with her."

At the calm declaration, a crack formed between Johann's brows.

The unfamiliar expression on her face, the clear gaze—ones he'd never seen before—grated on him.

Olivia opened her lips again.

"The princess."

In a place where social hierarchy was ironclad, the only place she could face a princess of a nation as an equal was the tennis court.

Olivia decided to confront the princess on her own terms.

"I want to beat her on the court."

Entering the Dumblin Championship was merely a condition for providing her endorsement.

Though Edgar wanted her to claim the winner's cup, she no longer craved the spotlight.

At least, not until moments ago.

"The law comes after."

Her ice-blue eyes blazed with heat. Olivia finally yearned for victory.

Johann stared at the woman silently, probing slowly.

"Tennis."

His quiet voice was chilling.

"Have you ever played?"

"......"

In that instant, Olivia's body stiffened. Her heartbeat raced abnormally.

"Since when?"

His sharp gaze squeezed her heart.

"I'm asking."

Each word struck like an arrow. Her lips wouldn't part.

Frozen, Olivia's eyes darted away from his gaze.

Has he figured it out?

He had been Olivia Blanchett's husband. For a mere three years, but he knew her as much as he needed to.

"Olivia."

Anxiety made her chest pound. She had to say something. Before his suspicions deepened.

"......A long time ago. Sometimes."

"A long time ago. When."

Silence fell again. His insistent eyes urged an answer.

"......Before I married you."

The words spilling from her mouth sounded pathetically feeble even to her.

A quick check with the Blanchett Earldom would expose the lie.

But once he returned to Londos, they'd never cross paths again, and this would fade into oblivion.

Olivia, who had been anxious, forced a calm facade and slowly raised her head. Their eyes met.

His suspicious gaze seemed to dissect her, suffocating her.

The relentless stare pinned her inescapably.

She wanted to flee.

"I should go now."

"In that outfit."

Olivia, rising hesitantly, bit her chapped lips.

"Eat first."

Johann said as he filled a clear glass with water.

"I'll get clothes after you finish eating."

She felt like she'd choke.

Johann looked up. Olivia, resigned, began moving her utensils.

Her pink lips worked mechanically. Each time the thin strands of hair fluttering in the breeze brushed and fell from her white cheek, a rose scent wafted.

Her indifferent eating was no different from before or now.

Before marriage.

No one like Earl Blanchett would teach tennis to his granddaughter, whom he'd kept locked away until sixteen.

Perhaps etiquette for a faux lady or techniques to seduce men, but tennis? Olivia's claim was nonsense.

Why? Why lie?

Olivia Blanchett playing tennis? It made no sense, no matter how he thought about it.

Johann stared fixedly at the woman who had once been his wife. People change after dying and coming back to life, but Olivia's transformation was extreme.

What happened that day? Why have you become a different person?

What did that damned Diane Brooke do to you?

Even Diane Brooke's death hadn't quelled his seething rage.

Curiosity about that day's truth piled on, loosening his taciturn lips.

"About that day."

Johann's eyes flickered faintly.

Olivia, pushing her fork into a piece of fish, looked up.

"By the lakeside—"

'If anyone deserves to go to hell for this, it's not me—it's you, Your Grace, yourself.'

Diane Brooke's voice clung to his mind like an unpleasant hangover.

In that moment, Johann was swept by a strange sensation.

Her innocent blue eyes blinked slowly, as if awaiting his words.

'The young lady took more medicine than usual that day. After arguing with that woman... she drank alcohol on top of it, saying the medicine wasn't working. Perhaps in her frustration, she went to the lakeside and slipped...'

The maid's confession resurfaced.