Chapter 558 Fiercely Protective
Natalie was genuinely curious about Oliver's train of thought, wondering if his approach to problems was anything like her own.
"Mr. Windsor, since we got here, it's been all work and no play for me. I'm the one who explored the old town, while you relaxed at the café; I cooked last night, and you just messed around; today, I've been figuring out the game rules and studying the map, and you've been sitting there, idle. Is it really that hard to strike up a conversation?" she said.
Her words painted Oliver as a freeloader.
The corners of Oliver's mouth curled into a visible smile. "How could I refuse when Miss Watson asks me to speak?" he replied smoothly.
Natalie was momentarily disconcerted by the strange flutter in her heart but quickly suppressed it.
"If the theme is indeed tourism, it's natural we'd be sent to attractions," Oliver mused. "Each site is in competition with the others. We could deduce the location by the theme and unique features of the photos, couldn't we, Miss Watson?"
Natalie nodded in surprise, her thoughts aligning perfectly with his.
The coordinator was astounded, expressing his admiration with a simple exclaim, "Impressive!"
Three photos remained, and Natalie couldn't place them no matter how hard she tried.
Oliver glanced at them, looked up at the sky briefly, and then pointed to two spots on the map. "Here."
"How do you know?" Natalie inquired.
His behavior appeared to be sheer conjecture, as if he was making it up out of thin air.
"Light," said Oliver simply.
The coordinator was puzzled, while Natalie blinked in confusion. She held up the three photos and carefully compared them to the sunlight, then it clicked. "The angle of the light!"
Appreciation flickered in Oliver's eyes as he nodded. "Go on."
"The angle and direction of the sunlight change at every moment throughout the day. The light source in this photo is on the left, meaning the sun would be in the west. Judging by the brightness, it must have been taken sometime after four or five in the afternoon. Therefore, we can narrow it down to these two locations."
Natalie pointed at the map. "But this area already has two photos taken, and I bet the organizers would want us spread out to various locations, so it should be this other site."
She caught a confirming glance from Oliver. Natalie was about to drop the subject when the coordinator's eager eyes met hers, prompting her to explain the last two photos as well.
"The light and shadows in these two photos clearly originate from the same direction, all casting towards the lower right. We can determine their location from the angle of shadows - they were both taken in the same park," Natalie noted, pointing to another spot on the map.
The manager swallowed hard, visibly shaken.
"Wait, you two, I mean, ex-couple—one a businessperson, the other a model—since when did you become experts in physics? Aren't you rich kids supposed to know nothing but how to spend money?"
At that moment, over at Paykston Estate.
A group of high-society elders and leisurely ladies gathered at a luxurious vacation manor, enjoying their high tea while keenly watching livestreams of the younger generation.
The Global Room was outfitted with a dozen large screen projectors. Each person had a pair of wireless headphones, tuning into whatever channel they preferred without disrupting their conversation with the person next to them.
Everyone was curious to see Natalie and Oliver among their own progenies, but this pair particularly piqued interest since Oliver held a prominent status in the group.
"Mrs. Windsor, that young Miss Watson is rather brilliant!" an elderly lady with silver hair complimented Marjorie, giving her a thumbs up.
Someone nearby nodded in agreement, "Beautiful, graceful, excells in Russian singing, an excellent cook, and has such a sweet temperament—girls like her are one in a million!"
Marjorie maintained a polite smile, responding modestly, "Yes, she's quite satisfactory."
Privately, however, her pride swelled: Of course she's extraordinary! Who do you think picked her out? My grandson's fiancée is second to none!
"Mrs. Seraphina, if you're so fond of her, why not consider her as a potential match for your son? He's recently divorced, isn't he? He could get to know Miss Watson better," someone teased.
The room fell silent, and all eyes turned towards Mrs. Rosalind.
Mrs. Rosalind, toying with her emerald pendant, made no attempt to hide her disdain. "Please, Mrs. Seraphina, I wouldn't recommend that Watson girl. marrying someone from a questionable background could be problematic—it contaminates the bloodline. And with your son's status, finding a clean, attractive woman would be a breeze. "
The room exchanged uncertain glances.
Mrs. Rosalind didn't pull any punches with her backhanded compliments, targeting quite a few people—
She overtly scoffed at Natalie's humble origins, deeming her unworthy of high society and of entering the esteemed Windsor family. Now a twice-married woman, her status had plummeted even further, making her seem less valuable than any average woman.
She insinuated that the Windsors lacked judgment by taking in a woman without status like Natalie.
Beyond that, Natalie had a sick brother—who knew if he might turn out to be a money pit?
Sure, some folks secretly felt Natalie wasn't a match for the Windsor legacy, but the live event that day showcased her exceptional qualities.
The girl didn't show off, yet she blended effortlessly with the elite crowd, a feat that during the last game revealed her high emotional and intellectual intelligence. Empathetic, kind, and multi-talented, she was steadfast in her dreams.
Graceful without being stuffy, kind yet not easily pushed around, she handled Susan and Sharon with a gentle touch but a firm resolve.
Apart from her birth, she was beyond reproach, the perfect daughter-in-law everyone was seeking, the ideal daughter anyone could hope for!
"Ha-ha," Marjorie's laughter broke the awkward silence.
All eyes turned toward Marjorie, with an inexplicable jolt in their hearts.
"Mrs. Rosalind, have you gone senile? At eighty, I can still remember names, and you're faring worse? "
Mrs. Rosalind, at sixty-five, was well-preserved, appearing to be in her fifties. But, as they say, the face is a mirror to the soul, and her features betrayed her as a bitter person.
Nothing stings an aging woman more than references to her age, and Marjorie's words hit Mrs. Rosalind like a dagger to the heart.
Fiddling with the sleeve of her dress, Marjorie drawled on, "If my memory serves, your origins weren’t all that either, Mrs. Rosalind. In your youth, you weren't half as pretty as Natalie, you couldn’t speak English, let alone Russian. And my people mentioned that Natalie speaks, what, five, six, seven languages, or more? Ah, I can’t quite recall, my mind isn't what it used to be. But it's certainly more impressive than your young self. If you didn't see your marriage into the Cash family as a stain on their lineage, how can you have the audacity to criticize others? "
The several older ladies and gentlemen exchanged glances, suddenly reminded of the dread they felt under Marjorie's control in their younger days.
Look at her—that's the Marjorie we know, once Miss Stevens, who sent chills down the spines of her contemporaries.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
