Olivia briefly watched the man among the excited onlookers.

The man’s forearms were firm as he walked, gripping the racket. It was impossible not to notice.

As the man walked to the bench and exhaled a hot breath, a servant who took the racket from him handed him a towel. The man wiped the sweat from his forehead with the towel he received.

When the man sat on the bench, a gentleman who seemed to be his friend offered him a glass.

A drop of water fell from the glass with lemon slices and clear ice floating in it. At that moment, a man who approached lazily from the opposite court grumbled.

“I can’t hit the ball for shit today.”

“Just today?”

The other gentlemen sitting on the bench snickered and teased.

The men now started insignificant conversations while smoking cigars, and the ladies strolled around the area with elegant steps, pretending to take a walk while casting expectant glances.

Olivia turned her steps towards the main building.

“Johan’s ex-wife. I heard she’s in Litton?”

“That woman?”

The sudden sound held Olivia’s feet in place.

“My mother saw her on the ship. Mother said she didn’t recognize her at first because she looked so plain, but when she got closer, she realized it was the Duchess. Seems she came with just a maid.”

“Johan’s wife, she was a stunner. Should I try to meet her?”

“You crazy bastard.”

The giggling sound spread to where Olivia was standing, along with the cigar smoke. The unfamiliar scent was a mixture of burnt wood and sweet chocolate.

“Credit where it’s due. It’s rare to see such a beauty with brown hair.”

“Rather than being overtly sensual, she’s more of a slender, doe-eyed type.”

As the topic dragged on unnecessarily, Edgar sipped his whiskey soda, leisurely appreciating the surrounding scenery with an indifferent gaze.

Passing over the lush grass court, past the group of ladies dressed in dresses of various colors like spring flowers, when he reached the entrance to the riverside path at the green hedge, Edgar’s gaze suddenly stopped.

“Her eyes are pretty. They’re even bluer because her skin is so fair, like that woman. Oh? That woman…”

“What woman? Who?”

The eyes of the noisy group seemed to have spotted the woman too, all focusing on one spot. Someone let out a sharp whistle.

“Bingo!”

Unbelievably, that woman was Olivia Blanchet.

Edgar Lancaster Lancelot’s eyes narrowed.

Under the shade of a large tree, where light and shadow intersected unrealistically. The woman stood neatly there. The woman who had been the subject of much talk and trouble. The woman who had been Johan’s wife.

The idle men started chattering noisily again.

“Isn’t it just someone who looks like her?”

“Right, it must be. If she knew about the relationship between Johan and Edgar, she wouldn’t have come to this hotel. Absolutely. There’s loyalty.”

“Why look for loyalty when they’re divorced? Maybe she’s trying to get back at Johan.”

The idle men giggled again.

They lightly raised their glasses towards the woman as if proposing a toast.

Startled by the reaction from here, the woman hurriedly turned around with her maid. The flared skirt rippled following her hurried steps.

***

“I’ve checked the guest list. It is indeed Miss Olivia Blanchet.”

“I see.”

Without taking his eyes off the documents he was reviewing, Edgar let out a soft voice.

Olivia.

Edgar rolled his pen, repeating that melodious name.

Was Johan’s wife like this?

The woman was still beautiful. But the awkward appearance of the black sheep of the Rondos Kingdom was nowhere to be found.

Above all, the woman he had seen before didn’t have such eyes.

The woman had a face so distinctly beautiful that it would remain in memory even at first sight.

If there was anything among the conditions for marriage that was equal to Johan’s level, it was that face, that pretty face.

Had he seen her two or three times?

What left a strong impression in those brief encounters that could hardly be called meetings was not her drunken behavior, but the woman’s face visible through her disheveled dark brown hair.

Especially those blue eyes, clouded as if covered by ash-gray clouds.

“What do you think her intention is?” Edgar asked his aide Gerald.

It was a refreshing smile for someone who had been drinking and playing tennis since midday. The clean scent of skin added to the freshness, thanks to having just showered.

“Revenge against her ex-husband, perhaps?”

“Revenge, you say…”

“I suspect she might have come to make a deal with you using confidential documents. Stabbing her ex-husband in the back while also making a profit.”

“You think so?”

Edgar signed the report in elegant handwriting, then inserted the fountain pen into the pen stand and raised his gaze.

“Why else would she come here?”

Edgar silently raised the corner of his mouth.

Such a weak-minded method didn’t suit the woman. There seemed to be no room for greed in those eyes that appeared to hold many stories.

Whatever the reason, he didn’t dislike the woman who had brought an exhilarating stimulus to his monotonous life.

“Send an invitation. To Lady Blanchet.”

It didn’t matter whether the cards she held were Leopoldt Company’s confidential documents or not.

Even a night’s entertainment wouldn’t be bad. Because the woman was beautiful.

Moreover, if it could disturb Johan’s composure, all the better.

***

“Those people seemed to know the Duke, didn’t they?”

“The maids at Greathill say that the Duke studied abroad in Brit. He must have had some connections there.”

Anne answered while tying the ribbon on the front of Olivia’s nightgown.

“I see.”

Although she tried to respond calmly, her voice came out with a slight tremor.

The narrator of the novel was the female protagonist, Clara.

As such, she didn’t know anything that wasn’t of interest to Clara.

The female protagonist’s only interest was Crown Prince Christian. Of course, in the end, it was Johan Leopoldt who won her love.

“He seemed popular with women. Did you recognize any faces, Anne?”

“I’m quite ignorant about such things…”

Although nothing circulates among the maids as much as upper-class gossip, it was far from Anne’s world. For Anne, reading newspapers or gossip magazines was a luxury.

Anne, who always followed Olivia like a shadow, couldn’t take her eyes off Olivia for a moment.

She was always a precarious mistress. The time when Anne became free was when Olivia fell asleep after having a seizure and receiving a sedative.

At such times, Anne had to silently clean up the mess Olivia had made alone. The servants at the Duke’s residence were always like midwinter to Olivia.

Now Anne was brushing Olivia’s luscious hair. The brush slid down smoothly over the sleek hair.

Olivia sat quietly like a good child, letting Anne handle her hair, and fell into thought.

The fact that she had opened her eyes in the world of a novel at the moment of death was no longer important. What mattered was how to live.

While wearing Olivia’s shell, she didn’t want to live as Olivia Blanchet for the rest of her life.

Moreover, if it was the life of a woman who would be framed for murder and executed while being jealous of her husband’s woman, it was even more right to avoid it.

So she divorced without much thought. She didn’t want to be entangled with anything related to Johan.

To a place where Johan Leopoldt’s hand couldn’t reach, where no one knew Olivia Blanchet.

That was the reason why she had crossed the ocean despite the many countries on the continent. But already one of those reasons had fallen apart.

What should she do?

Should she confront, or should she run away? Or should she ignore it and pretend not to know?

The tips of her interlocked fingers trembled finely. She couldn’t reach a clear conclusion at all.

She had only wanted to live quietly and peacefully.

“There, all done, Miss.”

At Anne’s voice, Olivia shook off her unanswered worries and got up with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Anne.”

As Olivia headed towards the bed, there was a knock. The clock on the bedside table showed nine o’clock in the evening. It was time for the hotel’s evening tea service.

Anne opened the door and received a tray from the room attendant.

On the silver tray, along with the tea set, there was an elegant envelope tied with a gold ribbon neatly placed. The attendant, who kindly explained that it was an invitation to a ball, bowed politely and withdrew.

“Shall we open it?”

At Anne’s question, Olivia, seated at the table, nodded slightly.

Untying the gold ribbon that seemed to be the symbol of the Lancelot Hotel, which was also incorporated in various parts of the interior decoration, and peeling off the red sealing wax, a gold-rimmed invitation card came out.

The Rose Ball. The neat text stated that it was an honor to invite her to the Lancelot Hotel’s traditional event held in the rose garden every May.

“It’s this Saturday.”

Olivia silently read through the invitation. The dress code was written below the time and place.

“You are the rose?”

To dress like a rose in a space full of roses. Thinking it might be too much, she smiled softly. It seemed like it would be hard to distinguish between people and flowers.

“…Are you going to attend?”

Anne asked carefully. It was because of what had happened in the cafeteria.

“No.”

Olivia’s answer was short and cheerful. With a smile that made even the viewer feel good, Olivia picked up her teacup.

She knew that sending the invitation was a vulgar prank.

To remind a woman who had once held an undeservedly noble position of her current place. Additionally, they might need something to laugh at so the ball wouldn’t get boring.

Olivia didn’t want to walk into becoming a sacrificial lamb of her own accord.

It was best to avoid the breeding ground of ugly rumors, whether it was the women who were desperate to humiliate her or the men who exchanged lewd jokes about her.

***

Johan Leopoldt went to the riding club after a long time.

He had intended to refrain from going out except for work until the aftermath of the divorce settled down, but as always, life doesn’t go as planned.

Well, when had it ever gone according to his wishes?

Their divorce was as hot a topic as their marriage.

Even after three weeks, unconfirmed sensational articles were still plastering the front pages of newspapers. Especially the content about Olivia Blanchet’s lovers that had resurfaced.

“Olivia Blanchet spotted with second lover in the Kingdom of Agent”

“Duchess Leopoldt, love escape with painter lover”

As idle noble youths gathered in groups whispering, when Johan appeared, they pretended to greet him while observing his expression.

Pathetic bastards.

Johan, who had crossed the lounge and come outside, lightly jumped onto the saddle.

Unlike Johan, the horse, excited from not having run for a long time, started running vigorously, snorting. On top of the galloping horse, Johan frowned as the sun hanging over the treetops in the distance was dazzling.

‘Please divorce me.’

His wife’s calm voice echoed in his head.