Anneblin turned around with the escort of attendants. The sound of people eagerly shouting “Princess! Princess!” here and there was exhilarating.

“Olivia Blanchett challenges Princess Anneblin.”

“It’s ridiculous. Miss, a challenge?”

An was angry at the absurdly provocative article. Olivia, on the other hand, just silently looked down, observing the shadows cast by the swaying muslin curtain.

The carriage carrying Olivia and Anne passed through the main gate of the Dublin Club. The journalists waiting, having given up on the news of Olivia, paid no attention to the carriage engraved with the Maxwell family’s emblem.

It was a good idea to ride the carriage Henry had sent. How did the plan to secretly use the facilities for a month leak?

For the club, allowing women to enter was undermining their long-standing tradition and honor. They probably didn’t intentionally spread rumors.

Moreover, a wedding photo with Johann.

No matter how you think about it, it was quite malicious.
Olivia and Anne, having descended from the carriage, followed the guidance of a staff member and entered the building. A staff member pointed to the detailed layout of the club displayed in the lobby and explained.

“You can use Court 12. The hours are from 9 AM to noon. Also, please refrain from entering or exiting other areas to avoid disturbing the members.”

“Alright.”

Olivia replied with a smile.

After the business-like staff left, Olivia, after reviewing the layout once again, left the building with Anne. The scent of grass mixed with the sea breeze was refreshing.

The court assigned to Olivia was at the far end, offering a better view of the sea. As they walked, the distinct smell of the salty sea intensified.

Arriving at the court, calming her lightly beating heart, Olivia found an ongoing match.

Concerned that she might have come to the wrong court, Olivia checked the number on the fence. It was precisely marked as 12. Thinking it might be too early, she took out her pocket watch, which indicated nine minutes past nine.

Nine minutes.

Olivia patiently waited. However, even when the appointed time arrived, their match did not conclude. Olivia, now perplexed, approached a scorer and inquired.

“I am scheduled to use this court from 9 AM. Is that correct?”

The scorer furrowed his brows, looking down at her.

“The match of the member currently using it must finish first.”

“Do I have to wait until the match ends?”

“Yes.”

Olivia shifted her gaze to the scoreboard. It was only the second set. Turning back, she observed the men on the court playing rallies without scoring for over ten minutes. It seemed they had no intention of finishing the game—at least not until twelve o’clock.

Olivia let out a small sigh.

Under the increasingly warm sun, Olivia and Anne spent the day idly. The next day as well. And the day after that.

On the third day, Olivia hadn’t set foot on the Dublin Club’s grass.

“If there’s no path, we have to make one.”

The soft voice of a man startled her on the fourth day.

On the red brick wall, between the fresh blue vine leaves, two men were gazing into the distance. The sky was cloudless, and the June sun was scorching.

Lazy kids.

Edgar clicked his tongue. Occupying the court was merely a way to kill time.

For Olivia not to use it. To stand there, motionless and dignified, with a maid beside her, while those energetic and pathetic guys spent three hours for the sole childish purpose.

She, with her vibrant brown hair, looked like a windflower surrounded by white.

“Stop fooling around and give it to us.”
Edgar spoke in a low voice. His gaze remained fixed on Olivia.

“I told you to give it to us.”

Turning away, Henry walked towards the sofa, flashing a sly smile.

“To give or not is up to them. It’s beyond my jurisdiction. After all, they are our customers.”

Henry MacDowell said with a deep tone.

The resistance from the members was more significant than expected. Another name for the Dublin Cricket & Tennis Club was the Millionaires’ Club.

Why would the giants of the top 1% of the upper class bother to come here just to hit a ball?

The Dublin Club was the space where important national affairs were discreetly discussed.

“Convincing them is something she has to do.”

Resting his back on the soft sofa, Henry lifted a teacup.

“Aren’t you curious?”

The wrinkled skin around Henry’s eyes twisted mischievously as he savored the scent of the tea.

“I wonder if she can find my pie in the cracks between those high-nosed noble gentlemen.”

Expectation, undisguised in the old man’s eyes, surfaced.

Indeed, the peculiar temperament of enjoying the fight was different. Although the act of observing a vulnerable woman being tormented like an entertaining play was not normal, Edgar could not refute it. After all, he belonged to the same category.

With his fists clenched, Edgar, standing by the window, looked at the woman standing in a corner of the vast lawn with a poised posture like a still life.

The woman who attracted attention in various ways suddenly began to move. As she walked confidently, Edgar’s face, which had been expressionless in the face of her determined strides, showed a faint smile.