Chapter 53
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A light pressure touched her toes. Even through the thick leather of her shoes, the contact was intense, but Olivia was oblivious to it, and she spoke nonchalantly.
"I don’t carry business cards, I've always been a free spirit."
"Haha."
Ezekiel laughed and put more weight on his foot. Olivia raised her eyebrows like someone whose favorite shoes had been stepped on. Ezekiel didn't seem bothered by her attitude, still smiling, and asked.
"So you're leaving your fiancé alone and having a free love affair?"
Ezekiel's grin remained the same, so Olivia couldn't tell if he was just trying to provoke her, or if he cared or was angry.
"Olivia."
There was nothing romantic about the sound of her name in his mouth, only disgust. Olivia smirked.
"He's the only one who thought it was an engagement."
"You didn't lure him in with your innocent face?"
"He had a great body and face, but he wasn't fun to play with, and I hate people who aren't fun."
She said, leaning toward Ezekiel. The pressure from Ezekiel's feet eased, then shifted and slid in a little further.
Foot and ankle tangled. Ezekiel smiled, apparently pleased with Olivia's answer.
"Well, you're not the kind of woman who'll be content to be a dutiful noblewoman."
"Yes. I've had enough of a boring childhood, and while I'm grateful to the old Count, I'm not going to spend the rest of my life as a nun because of it."
With that, Olivia drew back and leaned against the backrest again. Ankles crossed, she spoke with a hint of displeasure.
"And I'm not about to sell my life for money, I've inherited enough. I wish you'd stop talking about business cards, I'm interested in you."
"Because I'm a good game?"
"I have a lot to gain by winning."
Ezekiel smirked.
"I won't lose anything even if I don’t win."
"That remains to be seen."
Just then, a servant came out. With an air of apologetic caution, the chef approached, cleared the nuts from the table, and placed small, bite-sized tarts in front of each of them.
Olivia didn't have the slightest appetite, but she couldn't show it. She picked up the tart and popped it into her mouth, letting it crumble, releasing the aroma of fragrant figs and salty cheese into her mouth.
"How does it taste?"
"Excellent."
"Good. I told the chef to pay attention."
Ezekiel said. Olivia finally asked the question that had been on her mind from the beginning.
"By the way, where is this place? You have several mansions in the capital, of course."
"Are you asking the name of the building or the history?"
"Both. I'm curious to know what you call them."
"Well, they're both pretty unremarkable. I call it Willow Manor. My grandfather or great-grandfather probably bought it, and I've been using it for private meetings ever since."
It was clear that he wasn't referring to politics. The atmosphere of this place was too romantic for that.
"Is this where you used to put your former mistresses up?"
"Are you jealous?"
"No. If that's the case, I think I should decline invitations in the future."
"Then where are you going to meet me?"
"I told you, I'm a free-lover."
The tart plates were cleared away and escargot soup was brought out for entree. Olivia ate a spoonful or two of it. Ezekiel continued eating in a leisurely manner.
"Why don't you think about that after you win the game, you never know if you'll be able to afford that kind of seat after you lose?"
"I don't think so, not yet."
"Ambitious women are attractive, but it's all about moderation. If you've got a big lump of arrogance that doesn't fit in the bowl, it'll eventually lose its appeal. I don't like stupid women."
"I have no intention of competing with Princess Loella, and she's trying to compete with me."
"Haha."
Ezekiel laughed out loud at Olivia's bored tone of voice, then lifted his wine glass and took a sip. He looked up at Olivia with a wide grin on his face, as if this was really funny.
"Well, that's true. Loella's a fool, forcing herself to compare herself to you, when it's not even a fight."
"Ha."
"Is that why you're not opening the salon, no explanation?"
"Because it's someone else I need to fight."
Ezekiel shook his head slightly.
The third main dish arrived. It was a beef steak, grilled to perfection, tender and succulent, with nothing lacking. As Olivia gripped the sharpened knife that sliced through the meat without jamming, she suddenly remembered her previous life.
During her imprisonment by Ezekiel, she had never been allowed to use a knife at a meal. Unless it was something that could be eaten by hand, it was always cut into bite-sized pieces. Whether that was to prevent self-harm or to keep her from lunging at him with a sharp object, she wondered now.
She laughed softly. Ezekiel was still looking at her. Olivia put the knife down and looked at him, her eyes narrowed.
"Do you have any idea who it could be?"
"Somewhat."
"You, for starters."
"Aha."
"And then Lady Zilke."
Ezekiel smiled.
"I'm sure she's nothing to write home about."
"She probably has a patron, too."
"An unusually rich man who believes in civil rights, perhaps, or an old man who has devoted his life to literature."
"Then it wouldn't matter if her salon went out of business."
He was silent for a moment.
It had been the first Duke, Ezekiel's father, who had sponsored Lady Zilke to open the salon. The management itself had been turned over to Helmut, but he was well aware of the role Zilke's salon played.
It was less important now than it had been when he'd taken her in. A decade ago, the Duke had decided that the next threat to the monarchy would be a radical republican or anarchist.
But unless Loella, the sole heir to the throne, planned to rebel, the Modernists had no focal point. In that case, the anti-Schwaben forces would have no choice but to move toward overthrowing the empire itself.
But after more than a decade of keeping tabs on the currents of thought and spying on key figures in Zilke's salons, Ezekiel had come to the conclusion that he needn't worry so much about them.
What had once been a frenzy of ideas among the literati and intellectuals had become fragmented and scattered, unable to coalesce, unable to spread outward like a storm in a teacup. In hindsight, one wondered if the old duke's fears were unwarranted.
What bothered Ezekiel more was that Olivia sounded as if she knew who Zilke's patron was.
For the first time, her words jumbled his nerves. Ezekiel looked at her thoughtfully. Olivia continued to eat her meal in a casual manner, as if she hadn't said anything in particular.
"You're well informed."
"You didn't think I was attacked and did nothing, did you?"
"No. Good."
He had already been briefed and knew that Zilke was the source of the rumors about Laila. Zilke hadn't wanted to tell Schwaben about it, but Caroline didn’t hide it.
Ezekiel smiled. There was no way this ambitious woman would be satisfied with being a mere socialite. Finding out who Zilke worked for meant she was also interested in politics.
"Do you think you'll be able to get into the Schwaben manor?"
"Don't get me wrong. I've made it clear that I have no intention of competing with Princess Loella, and it's not even close."
Olivia put down her fork, glanced around, and rinsed her mouth with wine.
"It's beautiful, but I don't like this place, that's all."
She meant it purely literally. Her goal was the annex of the Schwaben manor.
And Ezekiel took that to mean that she wanted to be his real mistress with power.
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