The deployment of the unit where Prince Mikhail was serving as an officer was decided to suppress the colonial civil war.

A farewell party for the prince was held at the Doherty Club in downtown Leiden.

The party, which had started in broad daylight, was already to the point where no one could stand steadily on two feet by the time Johan dropped by in the evening.

Under the dreamy light of red lamps with golden shades, the thick cigarette smoke, the pungent smell of strong liquor, the fast-paced dance music flowing from the gramophone, it was like depraved young people chasing their last pleasures in a world where the end had come.

“Is the sun rising in the west tomorrow?”

The gazes toward Johan were all the same. What wind blew him here?

“Hyung.”

Mikhail, with a twisted tongue, fell into Johan’s arms as he walked in with a bored expression.

Johan sat down, extending his arm to mildly restrain him.

“Will we be able to see each other again?”

“Who knows.”

Johan responded indifferently.

“Hyung!”

Mikhail shouted loudly.

Johan ordered a bottle of bourbon and put a cigar in his mouth. He hated noisy places, but today he planned to stay for a while.

Until Olivia’s name was heard from somewhere.

Johan carelessly lit the end of his cigar. The table behind became boisterous.

“I predict 30 minutes.”

“It’s Sara Pavlova. 30 minutes is too long.”

The men snickered. He felt some sympathy thinking about the beautiful woman being humiliated on the grass court.

“I’m Olivia Blanchet.”

The idlers whistled and jeered.

“We’re not betting on beauty. The opponent is world rank number one. Did you forget?”

“If Miss Blanchet had debuted earlier, Sara would probably be number two.”

A man who knows about Olivia when she doesn’t know herself. Johan turned his head over his shoulder.

It was the queen mother of Brit’s cousin, characterized by his red curly hair.

“Oh! You saw her in person?”

Instead of answering, the man who had given up court 12 to a woman at the Dumblin Club just grinned and tilted his glass.

She’s divorced.

Recalling that clear fact, he pulled out another cigar. It should be enough to stop caring, but that wasn’t easy.

Olivia. Olivia. Olivia everywhere.

She was a woman with a truly strange talent. Now that they were divorced, he heard her name every single day more than when they lived together.

He put down the crystal glass and lightly shook his wrist to check his watch. Johan’s brow furrowed slightly.

The thoughts he used to control freely were now almost uncontrollable when it came to her. Damn it.

The symptom that appeared after opening Pandora’s box named Diane Brook had worsened since their reunion in Brit.

Of course, it wasn’t because of Mikhail that he came to this noisy club he rarely visited after leaving the company.

He needed something to focus on. Otherwise, everything would be…

“Why did you come? Aren’t you curious about Miss Blanchet’s match?”

Johan exhaled a long puff of cigar smoke.

Princess Krantz had stayed behind with Catherine, saying she would cheer for Anblyn. Probably because she felt ashamed.

It would have been ridiculous for Johan alone to watch his ex-wife’s match, and even more ridiculous to sit side by side with his fiancée.

There was no need to create unnecessary gossip.

“No way, hyung. You chose me? To come here?”

“Pathetic guy.”

“I’m touched, hyung!”

Mikhail flailed again, spreading his arms toward Johan.

With a prince of a country in this state, it seemed the monarchy was also in its last days.

Johan, having emptied a bottle of bourbon, rose from his seat.

Neither the strong alcohol nor the depraved space that felt like the end of the world helped much in distracting his nerves.

In the center of the club, tightly pressed couples were dancing the tango to the sensual melody that flowed like water.

Mikhail, who had been holding a woman’s slim waist, waved and winked at Johan.

It was a farewell.

Johan, lightly jerking his chin, went outside. He walked down the street dyed with dazzling lights.

The carriage waiting to carry the duke followed slowly behind.

Olivia’s appearance caused another sensation.

The murmur in the stands disappeared for a moment, then suddenly became noisy as if the volume had been turned up.

“My goodness, she must be crazy. How could she dress like that…”

The ladies clicked their tongues at Olivia entering the grass court.

Olivia was wearing a white short-sleeved polo shirt, knee-length shorts of the same color, and sneakers.

It was truly groundbreaking.

“A lady wearing shorts like a boy wears, how indecent. These are truly the end times.”

“What should we even call that unheard-of, unseen outfit…”

“It’s so outrageous I can’t bear to look.”

The reactions of elderly ladies aghast at the arrival of the end times and young ladies tilting their heads at the fresh outfit they had never encountered before reached Olivia’s ears.

Olivia closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. And she shut out all her senses.

I need to focus.

Like dust floating in the air, she settled the distracting thoughts floating in her mind.

Slowly, very slowly.

Then she gathered the light seeping through her eyelids.

What was like a dot grew larger and larger to form a sphere, and when it finally took the perfect shape of a tennis ball, she slowly opened her eyes.

Just think about this now.

Her firm eyes quietly shone under the midsummer sun.

Olivia walked to the net.

Sara Pavlova, wearing a white blouse and ankle-length flared skirt, also approached the center.

So this player is world rank number one.

A more intense gaze than at yesterday’s press conference stared directly at Olivia.

The woman seen up close had an overall cold impression, befitting her nickname of ice flame.

‘Strong serves are her specialty. Having no notable weaknesses is that player’s strength and our weakness.’

Olivia fully understood those words. No gaps could be felt from Sara Pavlova.

A cold aura flowed down her silver hair shining in the sunlight.

The two, gazing at each other as if exploring, simultaneously extended their hands over the net.

“I look forward to our match.”

“Likewise.”

Just as the two were about to shake hands, the match official called out.

“Everyone, please show your respect.”

People in the stands surrounded by blue fences all stood up at once.

Sara lowered her hand first and turned to the side. Olivia also slowly turned her body.

“!”

The protagonist of an unexpected appearance was Anblyn Grace Brit.

She was entering the VIP seats. Following her were Princess Catherine, and the woman gracefully descending the stairs next was…

Why…

Olivia’s expression became astonished.

None other than the Princess of Krantz, Johan Leopold’s fiancée.

With the princesses’ arrival, camera flashes burst brightly in the clear sky.

Royalty watching tennis was a familiar sight in a country that loved tennis.

But it was rare for them to visit the court without prior notice like this.

Wasn’t this the match of Olivia Blanchet, who had rumors of a secret meeting with the duke who was Princess Anblyn’s lover?

Moreover, the Krantz princess, the fiancée of Duke Leopold, at the match of the duke’s ex-wife…

To not miss the latest sensation in the Litten social world, which had been restless lately, photographers pressed their shutters until their fingers burned.

The stands also began to stir. It was a more exciting spectacle than the outcome of the match.

The smell of gunpowder was acrid. The calmness Olivia had been desperately holding onto shattered.

She thought he had returned to Londos with that man.

She really never imagined he would appear here.

‘…Do you know?’
‘Know what?’
‘That I’m here, at your hotel.’

Johan had briefly answered yes.

Why did she come?

It must be unpleasant.

She must not want to see me.

Olivia bit her lip. The windless summer weather felt unbearably hot.

“Miss Blanchet.”

Her dazed mind returned at the call of the match official.

“Ah… Yes.”

“Please pay your respects to Her Highness.”

Players had to show respect to royalty according to match regulations.

Olivia hesitated before finally taking a step.

She approached the VIP seats along with Sara Pavlova.

As the distance to the Krantz princess shortened, Olivia’s heart beat faster like a guilty person.

She didn’t have the courage to face Johan’s fiancée.

Olivia walked, silently staring only at the green grass being stepped on by her white sneakers.

Anblyn looked down at Olivia Blanchet bowing her head before her.

She leisurely enjoyed the moment when the positions of herself and the lowly illegitimate child were once again clearly confirmed.

Let’s see how great your skills are to have seduced Edgar.

She gracefully nodded her head.

She didn’t forget to give an equally warm smile to both players.

Of course, this moment was very thrilling, but Anblyn had another reason for coming here with Catherine and Irene to watch her first match.

The reason she forcibly dragged Irene, who had politely declined saying she wasn’t feeling well, was…

To break her composure.

When their eyes met, Olivia froze like ice.

Anblyn struggled to hold back her laughter. She stared directly at Edgar sitting in the opposite VIP seat.

His eyes, like a cloudy winter sky, narrowed.

Watch carefully, Ed.

How your checkmate crumbles.

Olivia Blanchet began to waver.

The midsummer sun was getting hotter.

As much as the match between the divorced illegitimate child and the world’s number one player.

The sight of spectators’ heads uniformly moving to follow the ball was a familiar scene at the Dumblin tournament.

But Edgar’s gaze was fixed solely on Olivia Blanchet.

“Fifteen, love!”

Olivia made an error as her drop shot caught the net.

As expected, it was nothing special.

Anblyn in the VIP seats, Sara Pavlova who had just served, and the spectators who came to witness with their own eyes the skills of the brazen temptress all reached the same conclusion.

In the end, it was just her body.