“The tea has a nice aroma.”

The owner of the largest club in the British Kingdom and a British royal, Duke Ransloth, who seemed friendly, recommended the tea with a pleasant face. Edgar lifted the cup and took a sip of the tea. The assertiveness exuded from the rich and robust flavor.

“It’s a precious tea. I specifically brought it out for you. So, quietly enjoy it and go back.”

Henry, as if he had nothing more to say, brought his nose to the teacup and looked away. Beyond the full-length window, green grass courts were visible. People dressed in dazzling white were playing a match.

“Judge for yourself after seeing it.”

Putting down the cup, Edgar said.

“My stance remains unchanged.”

A few days ago, Edgar had requested approval for Olivia Blanchett’s club usage.

Because he needed a place to practice away from the eyes of journalists for about a month until the competition. The owner of this place, Viscount Henry MacDowell, had refused.

“Even if the world has changed, I don’t want to see women swinging rackets at my club.”

The reason was that this club, boasting a long tradition and history, was a men-only club that accepted only a small number of elite members. It was an excessively exclusive and disgustingly outdated prejudice.

“You might change your mind if you see it.”

“Anyway, the princess is likely to win. Why bother with such a troublesome thing?”

Every year, the fixed winner diminished the interest in watching the competition, and as a result, women’s tennis matches were unpopular compared to men’s matches, which led to illegal gambling. Only nobles and those who wanted to uphold the princess’s honor were barely filling the seats. In short, it was a deficit.

“Has everyone finished their tea?”

“If the princess doesn’t win.”

Edgar’s low voice carried a sense of strength. Henry withdrew his gaze, which had been staring out the window.

“Then, will you allow it?”

“There were players more skilled than Anne. Everyone lost to her status.”

“She is not a Briton.”

“……”

“She has no reason to care about the princess’s feelings.”

Edgar didn’t miss the faint oscillation in Henry’s aging eyes.

“In this tournament, she will bring about a change.”

The boredom of old age was gradually swirling in the dull gold.

“That’s the charm of sports.”

Edgar tugged at the corner of his mouth. Henry’s gaze changed into that of a gambler’s.

If a big match unfolded even in the moment of his death, he would confirm whether his player won with wide-open eyes and then close them. That was the way he longed for.

The gaze, like probing each other, ended with Henry’s sly smile.

If Duke Ransloth was like a fox, then his son, this guy, was something else…
The sunlight streaming into the office beautifully illuminated the shoulders of the confident young man. His dazzling youth, akin to the peak of midday, made him contrast with his own aging reflection.

Having been targeted at a vulnerability, surrendering seemed inevitable. He was curious about the new adversary who dared to challenge the Princess of Britain.

Of course, Edgar was not oblivious to what was brewing in his mind. It seemed he had some hidden motives.

Regardless of whatever hidden thoughts he had, watching Anne Blanche Princess win for seven consecutive years felt monotonous. It might be better to watch a skirt-clad player at the club instead.

“A fox-like guy.”

Henry laughed, stretching the wrinkles around his eyes.

“I knew you’d do this when I called you here.”

Edgar also responded with a smile.

“Oh, my!”

Olivia, who was peering out of the carriage window as if her forehead would touch the glass, exclaimed in admiration.

As the carriage crossed an immaculate grassy field without a single weed, a majestic building came into view. It was entirely green due to the ivy covering the red walls.

Suppressing the urge to jump out immediately, Olivia, who had been glancing beyond the window, saw Edgar walking in the distance.

Anne straightened Olivia’s appearance, neatly folding the flare skirt, while a servant opened the carriage door.

“Have you been waiting long?”

Edgar asked, holding Olivia’s hand.

“I just arrived.”

Olivia was dressed in a light white blouse and a white flared skirt. Similarly, she wore white lace socks and cream-colored satin shoes.

“Don’t be nervous, just be casual. Do it as usual.”

Smiling down at Olivia, Edgar seemed reassuring. Olivia nodded slightly, following Edgar into the club.

Curious and unpleasant glances flew towards them. Edgar had told Olivia not to be nervous, but it was inevitable to feel uncomfortable in such an environment of hostility.

However, that discomfort lasted only a moment. Olivia’s blue eyes were busy moving around the splendid interior decorations.

“Save the admiration for later. Come this way.”

With a smirk, Edgar led Olivia outside. At the end of the long corridor, beyond the grass court, the sea came into view.

“Wow! It’s really beautiful.”