Chapter 64

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 64

Chapter Title: I Must Be Crazy

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Of course, the excuse that he'd just happened to stop by on his way was a complete lie.

But Edgar pretended not to know as he held out the bouquet.

"I figured the second one should be me too."

This, at least, was true.

A midsummer night breeze carried the scent of flowers toward her.

Why are you doing this to me?

Olivia suppressed the urge to ask and spoke instead.

"......Unfortunately, you're the coach."

Right on cue, Russell Junior's distinctive laugh grated on her ears. Edgar's brow furrowed.

The sounds of people laughing and chatting filled the silence between them. It seemed the uninvited guest was enjoying the feast just fine.

"Then for the third one."

"Miss Elaine."

Edgar let out a short chuckle. Olivia couldn't help but laugh too at the sight of his straight eyebrows drooping like a disappointed puppy's.

"And the fourth will be Madam Lauren, I suppose."

Olivia gave a small nod.

Silence fell between them once more. From the dining room, hearty laughter and Russell Junior's voice leaked out intermittently.

For some reason, she didn't want to go back in. She'd grown tired from dealing with people at the party.

"Well, I guess I'll have to settle for first place. Here, take it."

Olivia reached out her arm. Edgar grabbed her wrist and pulled her close.

"Ah!"

The startled Olivia let out a short cry.

"What are you doing?"

"I want to be alone with you."

"......"

A fierce desire to possess her surged within him.

Edgar kept hold of her hand and started running, straight toward the Bichen Riverbank.

Impulsively, like a teenage boy burning with the fever of first love.

Somehow, this foolish act he'd never done even back then felt especially romantic tonight, surely because of the brilliant starlight in the night sky.

Her wrist gripped by a man in a black suit clutching a bouquet of blood-red roses in one hand, she crossed the main street.

Their footsteps echoed on the serene night streets bathed in crimson lamplight.

Red petals scattered by the motion fluttered away on the river breeze, leaving a dizzying afterscent.

As she ran, pulled along by him, Olivia blankly stared at the man's broad back.

Because you keep doing this......

You're confusing me.

Her heart pounded.

Golden starlight shattered down onto his jet-black hair, his straight shoulders.

Perhaps from the very beginning.

Maybe from the moment she first met him on the tennis court at Lancelot Hotel.

From the instant she saw him swinging the racket, with hair as black as her own love.

She might have been falling for him even then.

Are you doing well?

Olivia tilted her head up. Toward his world, somewhere at the edge of the starry night sky, perhaps connected to it.

Toward the world she had once lived in.

Her grandmother had passed away. On that night after the funeral, curled up alone in an empty room, he had come to her.

It was a chilly, overcast day threatening heavy rain.

"Have you...... eaten?"

How could she not love the man who appeared the moment she felt utterly alone in the world?

So she wept freely. The sorrow that had risen to her throat burst forth in his arms.

From that day, that man became a star in the darkness of her heart.

......I'll

do well too.

At last, she bid farewell to her long unrequited love. At the same moment, Olivia gripped Edgar's wrist and pulled hard.

He stopped abruptly and turned. On tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Their lips met.

She slowly took his lips between hers, exhaling a trembling breath.

Countless rosebuds dropped to the ground with soft thuds. Edgar pulled her waist close.

Amid the fragrance of full-bloom roses, Olivia closed her eyes.

His lips were tender as a summer night, sweet-scented, and hot.

Just a little.

He knew exactly how to torment her.

Just a little more.

Heat tangled together between their lips.

From the riverbank came the distant cries of cicadas, the horn of a cruise ship gliding over the Bichen, and the rush of flowing water.

Edgar's lips slowly parted from hers.

Olivia opened her eyes without realizing. Her legs wobbled.

Clutching his arm, she caught her breath. Her face grew hotter by the second.

Seeing his lips glistening under the white moonlight snapped her back to reason.

I must be crazy.

I drank too much wine. And I was still buzzing from winning the match.

Still, this was too much.

I'm crazy.

Captured by the poetic mood and the wine's haze, Olivia plunged into utter confusion.

Blinking in panic, she covered her face with both hands.

"......P-please let me go."

Her thinly trembling voice was pathetic.

"Now?"

Edgar looked down at the woman trapped in his arms and smiled.

"I'm not done yet."

Flustered and at a loss, Olivia lifted her flushed face.

Seeing her squirm in his embrace ignited an unbearable thirst.

The woman, flushed even to her earlobes, hurriedly licked her moist lips.

"......It was a mistake. My mistake. ......Yeah, a mistake."

"A mistake?"

Was it the unusually clear moonlight? The smile on his face looked excessively wicked.

This was dangerous. Why had she done that? Olivia grew suddenly afraid.

She nodded vigorously, avoiding his gaze as she hurriedly added excuses.

Her neatly swept-back hair swayed against her nape with the motion.

"......Y-yeah. A mistake. I must've had too much to drink. I don't usually, but today was special, you know."

Edgar grinned and tightened his arm around her slender waist.

Olivia startled violently and pushed against his chest with her hands. The reaction was utterly adorable.

No—irresistibly lovable.

Edgar quietly gazed down at the woman who held only him in her eyes.

A pawn to use and discard. No deeper emotions needed.

But today was meaningful—she'd perfectly proven her usefulness.

So just for today.

Enjoying this moment wouldn't be so bad.

"It is special. Today."

With a soft chuckle, Edgar leaned down and claimed her lips again, cupping her small face in his large hands.

Startled by the deeper kiss, Olivia squeezed her eyes shut. Her thin eyelids fluttered.

Edgar. His name slipped out amid her irregular breaths, scattering against his lips. Ecstasy.

"Olivia is off-limits."

Johann's voice shattered over it. Pleasure intensified.

Edgar swallowed a stifled sigh as he devoured her lips—Olivia. He murmured her name again and again, like a languid breath.

Olivia.

Under the moonlight of the quiet riverbank, the night he didn't want to end deepened.

Johann's express train arrived at Le Mont Station.

It was evening, but as Rondos' premier resort city, the downtown streets around the station glittered with lights.

The carriage waiting upon receipt of his telegram carried Johann toward Le Mont Harbor.

Setting aside his urgent schedule for this—what madness was this?

Morris, sitting opposite, clicked his tongue as he side-eyed Johann with his eyes closed. It was utterly unlike him.

Sudden trip to Britt.

Surely not because of the Krantz princess.

Morris would bet his entire fortune it wasn't.

Obsessed. Utterly obsessed.

Morris was certain.

The human heart is made that way—repellent by nature.

You get sick of them when they cling, but once they leave, you desperately want to hold on.

So why didn't you cherish her while she was there?

"Stop staring."

"Ah, yes."

Startled, Morris shut his mouth and quickly turned his head to the opposite window.

Even so, he sneaked a glance at Johann's reflection in the dark glass. Arms crossed, eyes still closed.

What could he be thinking?

Through the silent carriage, brilliant lights flowed by, gradually giving way to the dark night sea.

As Morris dozed off, the carriage arrived and stopped at Le Mont Harbor.

"Welcome, Director."

Johann lightly nodded to the employee's greeting and headed toward Pier 2, where the Leopold was docked.

"An urgent wire from the palace has arrived."

Johann halted at the swift report from the employee following behind.

"From the palace?"

"Yes, Director."

He irritably swept back his hair. The sea breeze clung humidly.

An ominous premonition that the day would feel endlessly long washed over him.

And sure enough.

His brow furrowed as he read the wire handed over in the VIP lounge.

Silver-gray eyes held a chill. Even as he read His Majesty the King of Rondos' letter.

"Damn it."

The low mutter was chilling.

He must be crazy.

Morris paled as if caught plotting treason.

Curious, Morris craned his neck to peek.

"Urgent. Requested to enter palace."

It was the queen's desperate wire.

What insane timing.

Morris shook his head.

Johann slipped a cigar between his oil-slicked fingers.

A click, and flame bloomed. His cool, elegant features sharpened instantly.

As he slowly exhaled smoke, his gaze turned to the window where night sky and sea blurred into darkness.

Pier lights, lighthouse, passing ships twinkled faintly.

Johann twisted his wrist to check the time.

His wife's face invaded his vision before the clock hands.

"Think of me."

Ha. Grayish-blue smoke rose lazily with a long sigh, scattering in the air.

He missed her.

Her across that sea, playing tennis of all things—absurd.

He couldn't believe it until he saw it with his own eyes.

That was all.