The transparent sunlight shimmered in the woman’s blue eyes. Faced with such an eager listener, Russell Junior felt an odd dryness in his throat.
He took a sip of whiskey with ice, then, heightening the mood, began his tale dramatically.
“Edgar was on the verge of collapse.”
Of course, it was a lie.
As if—Edgar? But hey, in a cave without a tiger, even a fox can act like a king.
Rolling up his sleeves to show off the veins on his muscular forearm, Russell Junior stroked his chin and lowered his voice.
“His breathing was erratic, his eyes were unfocused. It was basically over.”
“And then?”
“I had him cornered. I could’ve finished it in one shot, but of all things—”
“Of all things?”
Olivia’s eyes widened in anticipation.
“My shoelace came untied. Hahaha!”
“Oh dear, really?”
“Life’s a joke played by the gods. I bet Edgar wanted to kiss my shoelace. Haha!”
Russell Junior laughed heartily, and Olivia couldn’t help but laugh along.
That’s when they heard a soft scoff, almost a sneer, behind them.
The laughter slowly drained from Russell Junior’s face as his gaze lifted over Olivia’s head and hardened.
“….”
What’s wrong all of a sudden?
Curious, Olivia slowly turned her head.
A man in a navy top, white pants, and a boater hat was walking toward them. With one hand in his pocket and a lazy stride, the sound of his shoes was crisp and relaxed.
“Edgar?”
Startled, Olivia called his name, while Russell Junior instantly turned pale.
Pathetic.
Edgar’s gaze, looking down at Russell Junior, said it all.
The fox who had been strutting proudly in the tiger’s absence now tucked his tail and averted his eyes.
“Long time no see, Russell Junior.”
“Y-Yeah. You too.”
Gone was his earlier bravado. He stammered awkwardly, forgetting even that a lady was present. Edgar let out a dry chuckle.
He couldn’t confirm the truth of that day now—but the topic was perfect for swaying the woman before him. Especially if she was truly into tennis.
Edgar placed one hand on the back of Russell Junior’s chair and the other on the table, slowly leaning in. Russell shrank back at the larger man’s looming frame.
“What was that about your shoelace?”
Edgar whispered into his ear.
“Go on. Finish the story, Russell Junior.”
His voice sank into the midday sunlight. In the distance, the shouts of rowing athletes grew faint.
“Why so quiet?”
With a smile, Edgar tightened his grip on Russell Junior’s shoulder.
“Can’t remember all of a sudden?”
“N-No…”
Russell Junior twitched as if to stand, but Edgar’s grip tightened. Russell let out a groan.
“Then explain. Because that’s not how I remember it.”
Edgar turned slightly to glance at Olivia. Their eyes met, sharp and intense, and only then did Edgar release his grip.
Russell Junior sprang to his feet.
“My father… He wanted to see me. I forgot.”
He hurriedly gathered his things. Olivia glanced between him and Edgar, confused.
“What about lunch, Coach?”
Coach?
At her formal tone, Edgar’s lips twisted into a smirk.
Out of all people, she picked that idiot.
“Ah, sorry. I have to go. See you later, Edgar.”
Russell Junior tucked his hat under his arm, grabbed his racket bag, and quickly left the deck.
“That was too much.”
Olivia scolded gently.
Taking Russell Junior’s seat, Edgar set his boater hat on the chair and grinned.
“Why even listen to that nonsense?”
“It was fun.”
“I didn’t send you here to go on dates.”
“I was working on my stamina.”
“With whiskey?”
Amusement glinted in Edgar’s eyes.
“Oh, that was Coach’s.”
Their conversation paused as heavy footsteps echoed on the deck. A waiter placed large dishes on the table.
Olivia cut a piece of the white fish and chewed slowly. Edgar, holding a glass of white wine, rested his chin in one hand.
“So. How’s practice with your coach?”
“Better than playing against a wall, at least.”
Edgar’s quiet chuckle was carried away by the breeze. Olivia smiled in return, her hair fluttering lightly.
She tucked it behind her ear with a pale hand, revealing the delicate nape of her neck—so fair that the blue veins beneath stood out.
Edgar’s gaze fixated there, oddly intrigued.
Just as his eyes began to move again, they met Olivia’s.
For a moment, there was silence.
It felt as if the entire world, bathed in lush green summer, held only the two of them. Olivia forgot to breathe.
His sun-kissed skin looked strong. Beneath a sharp, firm jawline, the faintly blue-tinged white shirt shimmered.
Between the loosened collar, the movement of his throat was visible. The pale, blue-grey eyes beside a chiseled nose were strangely hypnotic.
“Falling for me all over again?”
Edgar teased with a sly grin.
“Who saw who first?”
Olivia muttered coyly, her gaze darting to her plate.
Her cheeks were surely red, glowing even brighter under the afternoon sun.
Flustered, she focused only on slicing her fish into small pieces.
Edgar found her reaction amusing.
For someone he intended to use and discard in this tournament, she was proving surprisingly entertaining.
“I came to give you this.”
Once her expression had calmed, Edgar pulled a sealed envelope from inside his jacket.
Olivia stared at it.
“Go ahead, open it.”
Setting down her utensils, she picked it up and unfolded the documents inside, frowning.
“This kind of thing…”
There were still a few sheets she hadn’t checked, but she folded them neatly and returned them to the envelope.
“I don’t think I’ll need them.”
“If Anblin hadn’t been a princess, these are the players who would’ve won. Knowing their styles might help you.”
Edgar said as he poured wine into his glass.
“I want my player to win.”
“This is cheating.”
“Cheating, huh…”
Edgar found the word hard to accept.
“Their play styles are already well known through many tournaments. Everyone knows everyone else’s moves—except you, Olivia.”
The implication: Don’t make a fuss over simple information.
“They don’t know my style either.”
Edgar chuckled. He didn’t understand her stubbornness, but he decided to back off—for now.
He liked the determined light in her blue eyes.
Maybe it was because she contrasted so starkly with Anblin, who coldly dissected and exploited her opponents’ weaknesses.
“Fine. Do as you wish.”
As long as she delivered results, Edgar was happy to let it go.
Only then did she smile. Sunlight pooled at the corners of her lips, which curved up prettily. Edgar watched her glow in silence.
Their meal ended only after Olivia finished her plate clean.
When the bill came, Edgar pulled out his checkbook and signed. The veins stood out on his tennis-toned wrist.
As his pen scratched the paper, the gold trim on the tableware reflected light that glided across his watch.
A classic and elegant timepiece. Somehow, it looked familiar.
Olivia’s gaze settled on the blue dial within the round octagonal frame.
“Patex.”
She murmured the brand name absently. Where had she heard it?
As her eyes wandered to the distant sailboats swaying in the wind, her thoughts drifted.
It hovered at the edge of memory, just out of reach.
“Let’s go.”
It wasn’t until she turned and locked eyes with Edgar’s pale gray gaze that she remembered.
“Ah!”
A soft gasp escaped her lips, and she stood frozen in place, overcome with confusion.
“Olivia.”
But no sound reached her ears.
Patex New Watch. It was the gift Olivia Blanchet had chosen for Johann’s twenty-eighth birthday.
And it was set to be delivered to Johann Leopold right on schedule.
Johann Leopold and Irene de Kranz’s engagement was officially announced at Princess Catherine’s birthday ball.
As they danced the waltz, the pair looked convincingly like a loving couple.
The princess was elegance itself; the duke could not have been more charming.
“Why didn’t you give us any hint?”
The Marquess sisters, Margaret and her sibling, swarmed Johann the moment the music ended.
“Oh, come now, sister. At least it’s good news. Isn’t that right, Johann?”
“But still, you could’ve given us a heads-up. We nearly offended Miss Josephine by inviting her tonight. She didn’t show, though. Isn’t that strange, sister?”
The cheerful music blended with their nagging. Johann, who had no idea who Miss Josephine even was, hoped the topic would change quickly.
“We expect great things from you this time, Johann.”
Margaret, feigning sternness, gave him a warning. Johann nodded mildly and gently slipped away from the group.
He passed through the dancehall, where the waltz was still playing, and made his way to the terrace. From across the room, he briefly caught sight of the Kranz princess talking to Christian and Catherine. He turned his head indifferently and stepped outside.
Johann lightly flicked his wrist to check the time. With a faint furrow of his brow, he pulled out a cigarette and placed it loosely between his lips, searching for a match.
“Here.”
Mikhail, who had followed him, offered a lit match. Johann leaned in toward the flame.
The flickering light reflected off his cigarette before dying out as Johann raised his head.
