When the dot-like thing grew in size, forming the shape of a sphere, and finally became a perfect tennis ball, she slowly opened her eyes.

Now I only think about this.

Her intensified pupils shone quietly under the midsummer sun.

Olivia walked towards the net.

Sara Pavlova, wearing a white blouse and a flare skirt that reached her ankles, also approached from the other side.

This player is ranked 1st in the world.

Yesterday, she had stared at Olivia with a gaze even more intense than at the press conference.

The woman seen up close had an overall impression that seemed cold, fitting her nickname, Ice Flame.
‘Kang Seob specializes. The fact that there is nothing to call a weakness is both the player’s strength and our weakness.’

Olivia fully understood those words. She felt no gap in Sara Pavlova.

A cool breeze flowed through the sunlight-drenched silver hair.

As the two stared at each other as if exploring, they simultaneously reached out their hands over the net.

“Nice to meet you.”

“It’s me who should say that.”

It was the moment when the two were about to shake hands. The game announcer shouted.

“Please show proper etiquette, everyone.”

People in the stands surrounded by blue fences stood up at once.

Sara was the first to lower her hand and turned to the side. Olivia also slowly turned and faced forward.

“!”

The unexpected protagonist of the entrance was Anblin Grace Britt.

She was entering as a guest. Following behind her were Princess Catherine and the woman gracefully descending the stairs next.

Why…

Olivia’s expression became tense.

It was none other than Princess Krantz, the fiancée of Johann Leopold.

With the entrance of the princesses, camera flashes erupted, dazzlingly illuminating the clear sky.

As a royalty watching tennis in a country that loved tennis, it was a familiar scene.

However, it was rare for them to visit the stadium without prior notice.

Could it be that it was Olivia Blancchat’s game, who was rumored to have had a secret affair with the former lover of Princess Anblin?

Moreover, with the Duke Leopold and his former wife’s match, along with the engagement of Princess Krantz…

In order not to miss the incessant gossip in the lively Litten social circles these days, photojournalists pressed the shutter buttons until their fingers were on fire.

The spectator seats also began to stir. It was more exciting than the result of the game.

The smell of gunpowder was pungent. The composure Olivia was trying to maintain was shattered.

She thought he had returned to Rondos with that man.

She never imagined he would appear here.

‘… Do you know him?’
‘What.’
‘I’m here at your hotel.’

Johann answered briefly.

Why did he come?

It must be unpleasant.

She probably doesn’t want to see him.

Olivia bit her lip. The wind on this spotless summer day felt unbearably hot.

“Miss Blancchat.”

The absent-minded Olivia returned to her senses when the field agent called.

“Ah… yes.”

“Show respect to Her Highness.”

According to the rules of the game, players had to show respect to the royalty.

Olivia, who hesitated, finally lifted her foot.

With Sara Pavlova, she approached the guest seat.

As Olivia got closer to Princess Krantz, her heart pounded rapidly, like a person who had committed a sin.

She didn’t have the courage to face Johann’s fiancée.

Olivia walked silently, only staring at the blue grass being stepped on by white sneakers.

Anblin looked down at Olivia Blancchat, who bowed her head in front of her.
Anblin leisurely enjoyed the moment when her own position and the position of the lowly mistress were once again sharply confirmed.

How skillful she must have been to entangle Edgar.

She gracefully nodded her head.

She didn’t forget to give both players a fair smile.

Of course, even this moment was quite thrilling, but the reason Anblin brought Catherine and Irene, who came to watch her first match, here was separate.

Forcibly bringing Irene, who politely declined due to poor health.

Breaking the calm.

When Irene and Olivia met eyes, Olivia froze like ice.

Anblin suppressed her laughter. She stared at Edgar sitting in the opposite guest seat.

Eyes like a winter sky full of clouds became dim.

Look closely, Edgar.

See how your checkmate crumbles.

Olivia Blancchat began to waver.

It was becoming as hot as the midsummer sun.

As much as the match between the mistress, the divorced daughter, and the world-ranking 1st player.

The sight of spectators collectively following the ball was a familiar scene at the Dublin tournament.

However, Edgar’s gaze was entirely fixed on Olivia Blancchat.

“Fifteen, love!”

Olivia made a mistake as her drop shot got caught in the net.

Well, it wasn’t a big deal.

Anblin in the guest seat and Sara Pavlova, who had just served, as well as the spectators who came to the stadium to watch the skill of the iron-willed nobleman, all came to the same conclusion.

In the end, it was about physical ability.