----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 6 Chapter Title: Grand Blue ----------------------------------------------------------------- The man was dressed in a neat ash-gray suit, darker than the color of his eyes. As he started to take a step forward with his...
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Grand Blue
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The man was dressed in a neat ash-gray suit, darker than the color of his eyes. As he started to take a step forward with his hand loosely tucked into his pants pocket, the manager hurriedly bowed his head.
“Marquis Lancelot is already in the private room with a lady. I apologize.”
Upon hearing that his father had already claimed the exclusive private room, he slightly furrowed his brow.
The manager fidgeted anxiously, stealing glances at the man.
The man remained silent, showing no outward reaction.
“I'm heading to Anglia.”
One of his companions called out boisterously.
“Let's go. A beauty is calling.”
“No need.”
As the man replied indifferently, the manager swiftly seized the opportunity.
“We'll seat you by the window.”
The manager gestured politely toward the spot. Only when the man nodded did the manager finally move.
This can't be happening.
Olivia couldn't just stand by and watch such an unfair situation unfold.
“Excuse me.”
The group heading to an empty table halted in unison and turned toward the source of the voice.
“Oh? ...Johann's ex-wife?”
Whether it was his naturally loud voice or if he just wanted to draw attention, the man who had shouted about Anglia greeted her unnecessarily loudly.
They weren't close enough for pleasantries, so Olivia fixed her gaze on the manager and cut straight to the point.
“I arrived first.”
Edgar turned around belatedly.
Her expression was gravely serious, as if she were making some grand declaration.
Even under the dazzling chandelier lights, she had been a woman who seemed to shrink into the shadows. It wasn't because she was Johann's woman, but her appearance had oddly piqued his interest.
That woman had changed.
Aware of the surrounding gazes, she now stood elegantly from head to toe, protesting in a quiet voice.
“I mentioned it because it seemed you'd forgotten.”
She even exuded a gracious magnanimity.
Edgar's head tilted slightly as he looked down at her. A strange heat flickered in his previously bored eyes. He found himself curiously wondering what difference it made that she'd arrived first.
Her meaningless claim felt utterly foreign, as if she came from another world.
The times had changed, but this was still a world where class distinctions were firmly entrenched. Priorities followed rank in a simple, straightforward logic. Yet the woman seemed oblivious to it.
Her absurd statement left even the seasoned manager flustered.
“Our establishment prioritizes VIP guests above all.”
“I see.”
The woman set down the glass she held on the bar table. Lowering her eyelids slightly in disappointment, she said,
“I wanted to start my special day in Litton at Grand Blue. But it seems today will be special in a different way.”
“My apologies. We'll seat you as soon as a table opens.”
The manager bowed politely.
“No need. I've lost interest.”
The woman turned away without hesitation, accompanied by her maid. Edgar and his group were inadvertently blocking her path. Edgar took a step toward her.
“We meet again.”
He greeted her with his characteristic smile. The woman, her eyes full of him, looked taken aback.
“Did you see that too?”
Her voice was calm, but it carried a cat-like wariness. Even if a cat bristled its fur, it was only endearing, but the woman hardened her gaze.
“I saw what I saw.”
Meeting her eyes softly, Edgar curved his own. The restaurant patrons glanced furtively at the pair.
From the moment he entered, conversations had ceased, and even the clink of cutlery had long faded. His presence always commanded such silence, so it was nothing new.
“If you'd like, shall I introduce myself properly? Edgar Langcaster Lancelot.”
Edgar was the de facto head of the global Lancelot Corporation. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say he wielded immense wealth and influence over most people gathered here.
But the woman seemed unaware, and Johann apparently hadn't mentioned him to his wife.
Her blue eyes, flickering as if piecing together a puzzle, suddenly widened.
Their eyes met as she lifted her head sharply. Grand Blue. It was his impression of seeing her eyes—filled with him—up close.
“...That's the same name as the hotel where I'm staying.”
“Coincidence.”
“...”
Seeing her bewildered expression, Edgar couldn't help but chuckle softly.
'She must have come to do business with the young master using classified documents. Hit her ex-husband in the back and make a profit.'
Gerald's speculation was completely off the mark.
This proved the woman knew nothing. Or she was an exceptional actress.
Her strikingly blue eyes gleamed transparently beneath long, dense lashes. They were far too clear to hide any ulterior motives. That transparency oddly stimulated his nerves.
Dinner with Johann's ex-wife...
“If it's alright with you, would you care to join me?”
It was an uncharacteristically impulsive invitation.
At any rate, he looked forward to lunch at Grand Blue after so long.
As if she'd overheard something she shouldn't, her neatly arched brows twitched. Then her gaze shifted uncomfortably to the lounging idlers lined up.
“Ah. These fellows were just leaving, so don't mind them.”
“What are you talking about? Where would we go?”
“Anglia.”
Even to another man, that dizzyingly bewitching smile clearly meant scram.
You bastard!
Ryan mouthed curses at Edgar.
Playing dirty like this?
Ryan shot him an incredulous look.
Whatever.
Edgar signaled the manager.
“Right this way.”
Ryan glared daggers at Edgar, who was now treating them as nonexistent, and signaled his friends to leave.
“I hope to make up for today's disappointment at the ball. My lady.”
The man tipped his hat with a grin, his blatant gaze brimming with curiosity about the divorcée.
“No. I couldn't impose. Please enjoy your meal with your group as planned. I should be going.”
Olivia looked at Edgar as she spoke. She had no desire to end up plated and served before them instead of the seafood.
She was tired of the contemptuous stares from the noblewomen at the distant terrace seats.
That vixen again!
Their eyes were filled with such disdain.
“Let's go, Anne.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Don't worry about us—”
“No. I am worried.”
Olivia gave a curt nod to the men trying to detain her—stealing glances at Edgar—and left the restaurant.
“Miss, what about that one?”
Anne pointed to a row of street stalls in one corner of Bisén Park. They sold sandwiches, hot dogs, sodas, coffee, and various snacks.
Olivia and Anne's first meal after leaving the restaurant ended up being sandwiches and coffee.
The meal on a park bench by the river exceeded expectations—far more than Mediterranean seafood would have crossed their minds.
Munching on her sandwich, Olivia recalled the ball invitation.
So it was from that man.
She hadn't imagined someone so young running the hotel. Nor that he'd enjoy such mean-spirited pranks.
She'd already decided not to attend the ball. If he kept pestering her, she could simply change accommodations. She couldn't stay at the hotel forever anyway.
Recalling that terrifying moment of death still made her heart race. She had lived so diligently, unaware it would end that way.
For now, she wanted to do nothing. Now that she was free from Johann, nothing at all. Like compensation for her previous life's efforts. Couldn't she savor this leisure for a while?
Quietly, peacefully.
Retreating to a quiet countryside far from high society would be perfect.
Olivia decided to relax. There was no rush.
A breeze rustled the lush leaves, creating waves of light green.
Gazing at the beautiful scenery, the coffee and bread she swallowed revived not just her hunger but her vitality. She now brimmed with enthusiasm to start sightseeing properly.
“Alright, shall we go?”
“Yes, miss.”
Rising from the bench, the two headed toward the distant clock tower.
The clock tower, not far away, was Litton's symbol, famous for the legend that wishes made when its hands overlapped would come true.
Olivia and Anne decided to cut through the park. As they walked along the path, birds chirped clearly overhead.
“Do you have a wish you want to make?”
Her eyes widened innocently with pure curiosity. Olivia couldn't help but smile. She knew it was all superstition and salesmanship.
“Hmm. Does Anne?”
“Yes.”
Anne nodded shyly. Her god existed separately, and perhaps had already granted it. Peace for all those she loved.
Walking the cozy path, Anne glanced at the cross of the grand cathedral facing the clock tower and prayed silently.
Olivia quietly watched Anne's profile, then looked up at the sky. The spring sky was a clear azure.
A wish...
God had been harsh to her. Never once granting a single wish.
Not when her father's business went bankrupt. Not when her arguing mother left home daily. Not when her father one day chose to end it all. God was absent.
Her life had been filled with results from her relentless efforts. That was fortunate, at least.
Quietly, peacefully.
That was now the life Olivia needed to strive for.
As the path ended and they ventured deeper into the park shaded by dense unknown broadleaf trees, lovers whispered affections here and there under the languid spring afternoon sun.
“M-my goodness!”
Anne sighed.
“Let's go that way, miss.”
“Then we'll be late.”
“It grants wishes at six-twenty too.”
Olivia burst into laughter at Anne's flushed cheeks. Kissing sounds and birdsong competed.
For Anne's sake, who didn't know where to look, Olivia veered onto a side path. Away from the Sodom and Gomorrah, the park quickly grew peaceful.
Walking the flower path lined with bluebells, Olivia suddenly stopped.
Under a large oak tree's shade, on a bench, sat the woman wearing the pink diamond necklace.
-e363581e9ef382d2.webp)

Discussion
0