“……Who is that woman?”

Princess Anblyn bit her red lips.

That woman.

Edgar slowly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and opened them again slowly.

“My. Checkmate.”

Edgar, having lost his patience, murmured softly.

“So tell me. Where is she?”

Someone dared to try to harm a player officially sponsored by the Lancelot family. So his anger was a perfectly natural reaction.

[This is the timeline separator]

It was when the carriage had left the city and was running along the riverside.

The carriage, which had been slowing down, finally came to a stop. Wondering if they had already arrived, Olivia slightly lifted the curtain.

It wasn’t in front of the house.

“What’s going−. Mmph.”

As she turned her head towards the small window to speak, a large hand wearing a black leather glove suddenly reached in through the window and covered Olivia’s mouth.

“Mmph.”

It happened in an instant.

She tried with all her might to remove the rough hand, but it didn’t budge. Her heart was pounding furiously.

She struggled, digging her nails into the man’s wrist with all her strength.

Ugh! As the skin tore, blood seeped from the man’s wrist.

Damn it, the man cursed, and for a moment his hand weakened. Olivia seized the opportunity and bit the man’s fingers.

“Aagh!”

As he screamed and withdrew his wrist, Olivia quickly grabbed it.

She pulled forward with all her might. The moment the coachman’s armpit caught on the windowsill, she used all her strength to twist his arm outward.

Aaaagh! With an ear-piercing scream, Olivia’s vision began to blur.

Her movements were becoming increasingly sluggish due to the anesthetic.

No.

Her flailing hand opened the carriage door. As she stepped out, Olivia, dizzy, collapsed right there.

I can’t… lose consciousness…

Olivia stood up staggering, but before she could take even one step, she fell down on the spot.

Her inverted vision grew dim. The red sun falling on the waters of the Vichen River grew increasingly blurry before her consciousness finally faded.

[This is the timeline separator]

Johan was in the smoking room with the Crown Prince of Brit. It was a gathering that included Prince Mihail and a few alumni from the Brit Royal University.

“I don’t see Edgar. Is he not coming?”

“The Dumblin Championship is just around the corner. He must be busy.”

Mihail responded to the Crown Prince’s question, exhaling a long stream of smoke.

“By the way, Princess Anblyn should be a bit nervous.”

Mihail glanced at Johan as he threw out the topic.

“Why? Is Miss Blanchet that skilled?”

The Crown Prince, who couldn’t help but be concerned about his sister, looked at Mihail as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

“Russell Junior was dragged around like a dog, I tell you.”

Chuckles echoed through the smoke-filled room.

The conversation drifted towards predicting Olivia Blanchet’s performance, eventually degenerating into a bet with stakes.

Amidst everyone’s cheerfulness, Johan turned away from the window and rose from his seat.

“What about you? Who are you betting on?”

Mihail looked up at Johan with a grin.

Pathetic bastard.

Johan, cursing with his eyes, gave a light bow to the Crown Prince and walked out.

As the party grew more lively, the lights became brighter.

Johan’s eyes were sharp as he walked down the long corridor lined with crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, heading towards the banquet hall.

The moment he had been looking forward to was unbearably boring.

Everywhere he went, it was Olivia, Olivia.

Olivia Blanchet.

Heaving a long sigh, Johan was about to enter the hall when Edgar came into his peripheral vision.

His long eyes narrowed. His ash-gray eyes slowly scanned around Edgar.

Olivia was nowhere to be seen.

Edgar was in conversation with his former lover.

While feeling relieved, his mood was strange.

He recalled the woman who had been huddled in a corner of the lavish party venue.

She was a foolish woman who, despite being intimidated and curling her small shoulders into a ball, had insisted on coming along.

She would end up colliding, breaking, and ultimately being destroyed.

‘I’m your wife. Let me go with you. I won’t embarrass you… I’ll do well, as I’ve been taught.’

What could she have learned from Diane Brook? Could that woman have taught her properly?

He didn’t know then, but as he recalled the newly discovered truths, his blood boiled.

Thinking of his wife, who had been crying with reddened eyes, tucked away in the dark terrace, his heart ached once again.

As he habitually looked down at his watch, Morris approached him urgently.

Amidst the loud music, Morris whispered something into Johan’s ear. Johan’s iron-gray eyes sank deeply.

It was then that an employee carrying a silver tray approached.

“Princess Krantz requests to see you for a moment.”

The employee in the Leopold Hotel uniform conveyed the message politely. Johan’s brow furrowed slightly.

He raised his gaze and quickly scanned the large hall.

“Where is she?”

“She said she would be in room 3016.”

“Did you receive this request directly from the princess?”

The employee hesitated and lowered his gaze.

“It was the princess’s lady-in-waiting who told me.”

Johan nodded briefly, indicating that the employee could leave, and gestured to Morris. Morris followed the employee.

If Princess Krantz was calling for Johan, it should have been in the suite he had given her or his office. That would have been common sense.

Room 3016…

Who, with what intention, was planning what, he didn’t know.

Johan willingly climbed the central staircase. Placing his hand on the curved railing, he slowly ascended the steps, looking down at the hall.

People dancing in circles amidst the heated atmosphere. People gathered in small groups, laughing and chatting. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Who could it be?

His calm gaze swept across the banquet hall, meeting eyes with a woman standing next to an outer pillar.

It was Princess Anblyn.

The princess’s gaze, which had briefly met his before darting away, turned back to Edgar.

Johan, having climbed the last step, strode across the arabesque-patterned carpet.

In the relatively quiet third-floor corridor, the music and laughter from the party venue could be heard faintly.

Johan, slowly passing by the room doors, stood in front of room 3016. The number illuminated by the light shone golden.

Johan, taking his hand out of his pocket, knocked lightly.

There was no response from inside. Johan knocked once more before opening the room door without hesitation.

[This is the timeline separator]

The heat of the banquet hall was intense as the party was in full swing. And someone carefully added fuel to that heat.

“You won’t believe who I just saw.”

As the noblewoman who approached the group lowered her voice as if about to make a secret revelation, the surroundings grew quiet.

“I saw Olivia Blanchet. You know, that brazen hussy.”

“Goodness! How dare she come here. She has no shame, does she?”

“But what’s even more surprising is…”

As the woman lowered her voice even further, seemingly conscious of her surroundings, people held their breath and pricked up their ears.

“I saw Duke Leopold enter the room that woman went into.”

“Th-that can’t be.”

“I’m telling you, I saw it with my own two eyes.”

The room buzzed with chatter. Some gasped, others were shocked, and the rumor spread as quickly as wildfire.

The invited reporters were first. Following them, gossipmongers who would jump out of bed at the mention of a scandalous love affair began to climb the stairs in a rush, joined by those whose hobby was watching fights.

Edgar glared fiercely at Princess Anblyn.

Princess Anblyn smiled broadly.

“Blood will tell, I suppose. Isn’t that right, Ed?”

Finally, Edgar began to sprint madly towards the central staircase.

Watching the man’s retreating back, Princess Anblyn smiled coldly.

Irene was in the lounge with Catherine.

Wherever people gathered, there was nothing but whispers about her fiancé’s ex-wife.

The lounge was no different.

When the tennis tournament, a week away, came up as a topic, Princess Anblyn was mentioned, and naturally, Olivia Blanchet was brought up. It set her nerves on edge.

She could envision what kind of life she would lead if she married that man. The mere thought of it made her feel suffocated and tired.

Irene stood up. She thought it might be better to rest in the room Johan had given her.

It was just as she was about to take a step that Irene’s lady-in-waiting entered.

“Duke Leopold requests to see you.”

“…”

What could it be about? Irene stared blankly at the lady-in-waiting before asking.

“Where is he?”

“He’s waiting in room 3016.”

She couldn’t fathom what he was thinking. Had he given out the wrong room? Even if that were the case, he could have told her after the party. He wasn’t the type to seek her out like this. Irene swallowed a sigh as she stood up.

“The Duke must be yearning for you already.”

The noble young ladies spoke in tones tinged with envy and jealousy.

Irene gave them a light nod and followed her lady-in-waiting. Her steps were heavy.

The elevator doors opened. Irene stepped out with her lady-in-waiting.

“!”

Irene’s expression hardened.

“Could you please be quiet?”

The middle of the corridor was in an uproar.

The place where people had gathered was none other than in front of room 3016. They were pressing their ears tightly against the room door.

Irene couldn’t make heads or tails of the situation.

On the other hand, the onlookers who were listening intently to whatever lewd act might be taking place inside were shocked to see the princess.

Good heavens!

It was the worst scandal.

Under the soft lighting, the princess approaching quietly with her black dress swaying was extremely elegant.

She seemed completely unaware of the situation beyond this room door. How pitiful.

“What’s going on?”

Irene, stopping in front of them, asked calmly.

Something must have happened, she sensed, but maintaining a composed expression and posture had become a habit by now.

“W-well, you see…”

No one gave a straightforward answer.

Imagining the shock the beautiful and dignified foreign princess would receive in the face of such an intriguing spectacle, they could hardly bring themselves to speak.

As they were just glancing at each other, someone came running from the end of the corridor.

Good heavens! What is all this about?

Everyone’s attention was now focused on a man.

Edgar Lancaster Lancelot. The protagonist of the rumored affair with the former Duchess of Leopold.

The onlookers, now forgetting even to breathe, looked back and forth between the two.

Edgar, who had run up to the third floor in one breath, had a fierce look in his eyes.