Edgar, who had been staring at the entrance where Olivia would soon appear, responded belatedly.
“I appreciate the meal.”

On the left, Russell Junior; on the right, Henry Maxwell.

Edgar, who wanted to quietly watch Olivia’s match, already felt tired.

“By the way, it’s hot since this morning. Olivia might have a hard time.”

Under the cloudless sky, noblewomen in the spectator seats fanned themselves tirelessly.

However, Edgar’s eyes, stealing glances at him, were busy.

Yesterday, watching Princess Annblin’s match together was as good as officially announcing their relationship.

Upon this, numerous ladies of Ritten sighed, and the gentlemen, who had lost their composure, cheered.

The glances of the ladies winking at Edgar were hotter than the midsummer morning sun, which was only natural.

Under the dazzling sunlight, Olivia and Evangeline walked side by side on a well-groomed green grass court.

The flashes of cameras from the press area flickered, and gunpowder smoke wafted in the wind.

“Good luck.”

“Seymour, too. Best of luck.”

Evangeline turned around with a lively smile. The strands of pearls embedded in her neatly rolled-up hair faintly shimmered.

Olivia watched her retreating back.

‘Not as strong as Ms. Pavlova, but she has incredible endurance. If it becomes a deuce situation like today, it might be quite challenging.’

Olivia, pondering Russell Junior’s advice, entered the court.

Edgar was visible in the spectator seats. Today, he smiled charmingly, the protagonist who heated up the newspapers.

Olivia smiled back.

The spectator seats buzzed, but she decided not to care.

Swiftly.

She decided to focus only on that fact.

The two appointed by the referee headed to their respective benches.

Olivia put her racket bag on the bench and placed the water jug on the table.

“……. ”

It would be nice to take a sip before the game.

Evangeline, who was watching Olivia’s actions, silently wished for luck, but luck did not come early.

Bang! With a cheerful sound cutting through the blue sky, Olivia Blanshet’s qualifying second-round match began.

“Fifteen, thirty.”

Evangeline, with the serve, made a mistake and wrinkled her nose.

Evangeline was overwhelmed by the opponent’s momentum.

Olivia Blanshet was more agile than expected, and her movements were clean without any excess.

She repeatedly blocked Evangeline’s shots. The fast and powerful shots were reminiscent of Sarah Pavlova.

Evangeline, who had been catching her breath with both hands on her knees, assumed the serve position again. She tightened her grip on the racket that she had been holding loosely.

The ball, which had gone up briefly, hit the racket and flew towards Olivia.

Evangeline effortlessly countered the ball. A long rally ensued.

Under the shadeless scorching sun, only the rhythmic sound of the racket continued for a while.
In the spectator seats, the fans’ waving hands hastened, and Henry wiped his forehead with a handkerchief.

Edgar, expressionless, continued to gaze at Olivia with a tranquil look.

On the deep green grass, she burned passionately like a candle illuminating the peak of life.

Watching such a woman, just like that night they exchanged lips, made his heart flutter.

‘Edgar…’

Unconsciously, his fist loosened, and the long fingertips lightly brushed against his lips.

She rose again. Hitting the opponent’s strong racket, the ball struck the service box on the other side.

Cheers erupted in the spectator seats for the fantastic drop shot, but as they realized it was Olivia Blanshet’s creation, they closed their lips as if keeping a promise.

“Fifteen, forty!”

Losing the service game. Evangeline chewed her lips.

Acknowledging the difference in skill didn’t make the defeat enjoyable. Especially when facing the scorn of the nobles.

Princess Annblin didn’t attend, but members of the Royal Tennis Club sitting in the front row of the VIP section were observing her.

Thinking about what words might circulate after a pitiful mistake, her mood spiraled even further. Impatience set in.

I must win.

The court changed, and Olivia Blanshet gained the serve.

Evangeline, fully alert, glared at Olivia.

Olivia, who had been lightly bouncing the ball, hit it as it rose from the ground.

The azure eyes staring directly at her flashed like a momentary beast. At that instant, the ball went up.

“Hot!”

With a short and intense vocalization, the ball flew unfettered. The sound of a well-forged blade cutting through the air echoed.

“!”

Evangeline’s wrist, hitting the ball, bent. The ball, poorly struck with the racket, hung on the net and fell to the ground.

…No, this can’t be.

“Fifteen, love!”

It was truly a monstrous speed. A power shot surpassing Sarah Pavlova.

Evangeline’s wrist tingled.

Now she understood Sarah Pavlova’s defeat.

Perhaps Lancelot Corporation had intervened. She had subtly suspected it, but it wasn’t true.

It was skill.

Evangeline chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. However, she soon regained a relaxed smile.

In this world, tricks often worked better than skill.