An Incomplete Divorce - Chapter 63

Sarah Pavlova glared at Olivia while breathing heavily.

So annoying.

The match had gone on for over two hours, but Olivia showed no signs of faltering. She maintained precise movements and concise steps.

Whether she was born with incredible strength, or it was due to her unconventional outfit.

Whatever the reason, she absolutely had to avoid a deuce situation.

Absolutely.

Olivia regulated her breathing.

Just one point!

Her heart beat rapidly.

Her gaze met Princess Anblyn’s. She was staring at Olivia with an unreadable expression.

I won’t lose.

Strength entered her two legs standing on the grass.

Absolutely not!

Olivia leaned her upper body forward. She twirled the racket with both hands, then gripped it tightly.

The ball comes flying.

“Haah!”

With a roar, she easily swept away the ball that bounced after landing in the service box.

At that moment, Sarah, spotting an open space, quickly put strength into her wrist.

Slightly adjusting the angle, she swiftly stabbed the ball close to the left corner.

“!”

Olivia, who had been standing close to the right line, began sprinting off the ground.

I’ve won!

A person, and a woman at that, can’t be faster than a flying ball.

Just as Sarah Pavlova, Anblyn, and all the spectators were about to smile in satisfaction at this reckless resistance.

“Hah!”

Olivia threw her body, sliding across the grass with her long, white legs spread wide.

Gripping the racket with both hands, Olivia accurately hit the precariously flying ball with a wild cry.

Good heavens!

She actually pulled that off.

A series of exclamations erupted from the spectators.

Flustered by Olivia’s dramatic drop shot, Sarah belatedly started running towards the net.

But the ball grazed the racket head and flowed helplessly to the back.

“Deuce!”

The umpire’s declaration rang out over the clear sky. Sarah Pavlova felt the sky spinning.

At the same time, Anblyn’s lips trembled faintly.

After sufficiently savoring that sight, Edgar’s gaze slowly shifted to Olivia.

My checkmate.

Under the scorching sun, Olivia, catching her breath with her small shoulders heaving, looked like a snow-white wolf.

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“Olivia Blanchet, The Fiery Newcomer’s Arrival”

The slump of Sarah Pavlova, ‘The Ice Flame of the Court’, is concerning.

Although she had repeatedly left empty-handed without the championship trophy at the Dumblin Tournament, it’s nothing short of shocking that this year she couldn’t even cross the threshold of the finals, losing to newcomer Olivia Blanchet.

Has the ice melted, or has the flame been extinguished?

That afternoon, extra editions were distributed simultaneously throughout Litten.

Madam Mary demonstrated her skills after a long time.

In the cozy dining room overlooking the Vichen River immersed in the night sky, a table as splendid as a court banquet was set.

With the addition of luxurious tableware clearly sourced from the Lancelot Hotel and ornate candlesticks, it became an even more impressive feast.

“To the newcomer, Olivia!”

Russell Junior, who had been reading the extra edition article, shouted as he raised high a champagne glass bubbling with foam.

Elaine, her husband, and Madam Lauren, seated around the round table, raised their glasses.

“Thank you, everyone.”

The glasses clinked with a clear sound, and Olivia smiled brightly.

Elaine, true to her usual personality, cheerfully led the atmosphere.

She got along quite well with Russell Junior.

Amidst their chatter, warm candlelight flickered on the bountiful table, and people’s laughter came and went.

“By the way, didn’t you invite the Marquis?”

Elaine asked, putting a piece of duck leg, stuffed with spices and crispy on the outside, onto her plate.

“He seemed busy……”

Olivia trailed off with a faint smile.

It was an appropriate excuse.

Today, a party was held at the Lancelot Hotel for the players, tournament officials, and invited journalists.

That man had to be there. She didn’t want to trouble him.

And if by chance she was rejected, it might hurt a little.

Olivia stared at the vase decorating the table while holding her cutlery.

‘Congratulations on your first victory.’

Edgar had been waiting in the corridor as she moved to the waiting room after the match ended.

In his hands was a modest bouquet.

Suddenly, she thought of her grandmother.

On graduation day, grandmother approached a child surrounded by family, taking pictures with a pretty bouquet in their arms, and asked if she could borrow the bouquet for a moment.

At that time, she saw grandmother’s curved back bow even deeper.

In the photo, grandmother was smiling brightly, but the girl had her bright red face buried in the flowers.

That’s what a bouquet meant to her. Like an embarrassing memory from poor times.

Olivia just stood there, blankly staring at the extended bunch of flowers.

‘Why. Don’t you like flowers?’
‘…Ah, no. It’s not that. …It’s my first time.’
‘First time. That sounds nice. Those words.’

The man smiled again.

Olivia was confused, foolishly, whether her chest feeling faint and hot was because of her grandmother or because of this man.

Olivia lightly shook her head to shake off the man’s face.

She grasped the slender-necked wine glass in her hand.

Her fingers looked red through the light passing through the dark red waves.

“Your next opponent is Seymour, right? How is she?”

Elaine asked Russell Junior while observing Olivia’s expression.

She sensed that there had been some change in Olivia’s feelings towards Edgar.

“Ms. Seymour?”

Russell Junior, who had taken a sip of wine, was already pleasantly tipsy.

Because his first student, Olivia, was admirable and proud and also too beautiful.

And above all, because Edgar Lancaster Lancelot wasn’t here. So he was quite puffed up for the first time in a while.

“She’s not as strong a player as Ms. Pavlova, but her endurance is incredible. If it becomes a deuce situation like today, she might struggle quite a bit. That girl.”

Russell Junior’s lengthy explanation began.

He knew people were getting bored, but when Olivia looked at him with sparkling eyes, he couldn’t stop.

If only that clean and kind gaze would linger on him a little longer.

Russell Junior’s mind was filled with only that wish. Until the damn doorbell rang.

“I’ll go.”

Olivia stood up, replacing Anne who was just serving the freshly prepared crayfish to the guests.

It seemed the additional wine they ordered, thinking it might not be enough, had arrived.

As she walked down the short corridor after leaving the dining room, Madam Mary bustled out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Go about your work. I’ll go. That was the most delicious roast duck I’ve ever had in my life.”

Olivia didn’t forget to praise the lady’s efforts with a bright smile.

A faint smile appeared on the lips of the gruff Madam Mary.

She bowed her head and hurriedly returned to the kitchen. Meanwhile, the doorbell rang again.

“Yes. Coming.”

Olivia, who had reached the front door with quick steps, opened it wide.

The river wind rushed in, making the sky-blue ribbon tied at the waist of her white muslin dress flutter like dancing along with the skirt hem.

“I wondered who it might be.”

Olivia blankly looked up at the man. He smiled. There was a scent of roses in the wind that had passed over the river.

“…How did you come here.”

“I was just passing by.”

The man who casually said he dropped by while passing showed a large bouquet and smiled freshly.

Behind the man casting a long shadow, the Vichen River, glittering orange in the falling streetlight, had a luxurious pleasure boat passing by.

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Evangeline Seymour was entranced, blinking her eyes at the breathtaking scenery she had never seen before in her life.

Even the Seymour family mansion, which would be second to none in terms of lavishness, couldn’t match this level of refinement despite the money poured into it.

Evangeline’s heart pounded as she looked around the Botanic Garden of the West Palace, which was said to be inaccessible to just anyone.

The Seymour family, who became nouveau riche after discovering a gold mine during her grandfather’s time, had no shortage of gold nuggets, but lacking a title, they had repeatedly failed to cross the threshold of the haughty social circles.

That was also the reason why Evangeline started playing tennis. To belong to upper-class gatherings.

Just as men had the Dumblin Club, ladies of Evangeline’s age had a tennis social group centered around Princess Anblyn. A gathering of the royals among royals.

‘Finally, my efforts are being rewarded.’

She adjusted her carefully arranged outfit in the dark glass window.

As she was patting and smoothing out the pleats of her skirt to check for any flaws, the sound of footsteps on the flagstones could be heard.

Evangeline straightened her posture and neatly folded her hands.

The sound of soft conversation grew closer, and soon Princess Anblyn revealed her elegant figure.

‘Goodness! She really is like a porcelain doll.’

Face to face with the princess she had admired, Evangeline froze.

At the same time, Evangeline felt like she might cry.

“Y-Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you.”

Evangeline’s voice trembled terribly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Seymour. Please, sit down.”

Princess Anblyn offered tea with a dignified smile. Evangeline, extremely tense, didn’t dare raise her head and only stared intently at the teacup.

The silver moon falling from the glass ceiling rippled quietly in the white teacup without any pattern.

“I heard you’re not yet part of any group. What do you think about our tennis club?”

“Pardon? Do you mean the R-Royal Tennis Club?”

Evangeline’s fingertips trembled as she lifted the teacup, causing the tea to slosh.

The daughter of an ostracized merchant family was so easy to manipulate.

What a sight, to grovel and wag her tail like a dog at the slightest crumb of kindness.

“I think Ms. Seymour has more than enough skill to join our club.”

“Th-Thank you, Your Highness.”

Evangeline, with a look of deep gratitude, didn’t know what to do with herself.

“But it seems the other members have a slightly different opinion.”

Anblyn put on a deliberately regretful expression.

Evangeline, unskilled at hiding her emotions, openly made a dejected face.

“What should I do, Your Highness?”

“How about proving your skills with this opportunity?”

Anblyn said enticingly, with a generous smile.

“I think you can do it, Ms. Seymour. What do you say?”

Anblyn’s amber eyes shone like starlight as she spoke, implying that any means necessary should be used.