To You Who No Longer Want Me (7 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 16
Viare, who had just come out of the fitting room after having her measurements taken, felt puzzled that Madam Louise still hadn’t shown herself.
“Could Madam Louise still be delayed?”
At Viare’s casual, almost meaningless question, the previously bustling reception room suddenly fell into complete silence.
She hadn’t intended to put the clerk in an awkward position, yet the girl, clearly terrified, looked deeply distressed.
“There’s a guest who arrived earlier…”
That Madam had attended to someone before her could only mean that a member of another ducal household had come to visit.
‘Could it be the Duchess herself?’
Yet, regardless, she couldn’t simply keep waiting for Madam indefinitely.
She had far too many matters to resolve to waste time idly like this,
for her mind was already tangled in chaos beyond comprehension.
“If you’re busy, I’ll come another time…”
At that very moment, the reception room door burst open, and upon recognizing the figure stepping out, Viare couldn’t hide her bewilderment.
“It’s been a while, Princess.”
“Sacred glory to the Marta Empire.”
“How could I possibly pass by when I heard you were my next guest?”
Judging from Madam Louise’s gloomy expression as she trailed hesitantly behind him, Viare could guess what had just transpired.
Though she wasn’t particularly curious, the Crown Prince claimed he had dropped by to secretly place an order with Madam.
Still unwilling to face him again after the unpleasant incident at the Grand Cathedral, Viare slowly relaxed her furrowed brow and prepared to leave the atelier.
“You must be weary from walking all the way here.”
He, who had been watching her with persistent interest, replied nonchalantly to her insincere, overly courteous remark.
“That’s precisely why I intend to rest here for a while.”
“Then please rest comfortably. I shall take my leave now.”
Thinking it best to postpone fitting her ball gown for another day, Viare signaled to her maid, rose from her seat, and bowed respectfully to the Crown Prince.
“Eternal glory to the Marta—”
“Let’s leave together. I happen to have something to discuss with you.”
Why did things always spiral this way? Utterly baffled, Viare responded to him with her usual coldness.
“It seems you still haven’t received my answer from Father.”
“That can’t be. When I told the Duke the news, my heart crumbled into pieces.”
Between them, exchanging words impossible to anticipate, everyone else merely watched helplessly, too cautious to intervene.
Just as Viare thought listening to his nonsense was far more taxing than attending mass at the temple,
he added, “Therefore, shouldn’t the Princess take responsibility?”
“Hah—responsibility, you say…”
Viare couldn’t suppress a derisive laugh, and the air in the reception room grew even heavier.
Sensing the situation turning ominous, Diane remained silent, waiting only for Viare’s instructions.
Yet Viare gave none, as if choosing to observe how things would unfold.
“Yes, responsibility. Because of you, I’ve suffered a severe fever these past few days.”
Ivan, looking perfectly healthy, shamelessly lied—and then smirked at her.
As he clutched his chest and feigned pain, Viare was utterly speechless.
“I assume you wouldn’t mind speaking plainly right here.”
It was her way of telling him to stop his pointless chatter and get to the point.
Frowning slightly, Ivan crossed his arms and spoke in a tone of displeasure.
“Hmm. I didn’t take you for such a cold-hearted Princess.”
He nodded toward Madam Louise, clearly ensuring Viare would hear his next words.
“Our presence here must be hindering your business, wouldn’t you agree, Madam?”
To the lofty heir apparent, his words were law; Madam squeezed her eyes shut and reluctantly replied,
“How could I possibly add my opinion to the words of such noble personages?”
“So you see, Princess. There’s a suitable place nearby for our talk—let’s go there.”
What did he truly want from her? Was it right to let him lead her around like this? Annoyed yet confused, Viare signaled to Diane.
Understanding immediately, Diane nodded firmly and hurried toward where the carriage was waiting.
The place Ivan led her to was a newly opened café, just a short distance from Florimand Atelier.
Nobles taking brief respite, young ladies engaged in social calls, lovers whispering sweet nothings—
the café, entirely open on all sides within a spacious hall, offered no privacy whatsoever.
Thus, Viare and Ivan’s arrival instantly drew everyone’s attention.
Many stared with blatant curiosity, whispering among themselves, which naturally soured Viare’s expression.
To those who knew nothing, they were merely interesting gossip fodder.
Now finally grasping his intent, Viare could only glare at Ivan, who was calmly offering her a seat.
The Crown Prince visiting this café during peak hours with the Princess of a powerful imperial house was more than enough fuel for scandal.
Ivan surely knew she had already endured far too much—but he seemed thoroughly enjoying the whole situation.
Desperate to leave as soon as possible, she lowered her voice so only he could hear.
“Please just tell me what you want.”
“Don’t be so angry, Princess.”
“I can’t even begin to fathom the urgency that brought you all the way here.”
“But surely you enjoy it more with an audience, don’t you?”
Before she could fully decipher his cryptic intent, Ivan pulled something from his coat and placed it on the table.
Most nobles widened their eyes, closely watching the pair; others covered their mouths with fans, whispering excitedly.
No one sensed the tension between them—all were fixated solely on the “gift” the Crown Prince had presented.
Unfazed by the stares, Ivan merely quirked the corner of his mouth faintly, then gazed at Viare with feigned affection.
“I had this specially commissioned—it seemed perfect for you.”
Faced with this utterly unfamiliar, performative display, Viare felt goosebumps rise across her skin.
The mere fact that Ivan had ordered something for her—especially in front of all these nobles—was so glaringly intentional that she wanted to look away.
“This doesn’t seem to belong to me.”
“Nonsense. This was made solely for you.”
“It’s alright, Your Highness.”
“Refusing without even opening it? That wounds me deeply.”
Propping his chin in his hand as he waited for her to open the gift, he suddenly spoke in a quiet voice.
“Everyone’s watching you—surely you can afford this small gesture.”
Around them, eyes remained fixed on the pair, sparkling with curiosity about the Crown Prince’s mysterious present.
Frustrated at being played like a pawn in Ivan’s scripted drama, she glanced indifferently at the gift.
Regardless of what happened now, today’s incident would inevitably become political fodder beyond mere gossip.
‘I should never have overlooked this…’
Slowly, Viare placed her hand on the gift box before her and unraveled the ribbon.
It struck her as absurd how intently everyone strained their eyes, eager to see what the Crown Prince had given.
‘I’m so moved I could cry.’
As she lifted the lid, exquisitely embroidered white lace gloves lay clearly before her.
Upon catching sight of the gift, the nobles couldn’t hide their shock and began murmuring excitedly.
Ignoring their whispers, Ivan kept his gaze fixed solely on Viare—his intention all too obvious—and she twisted her lips in response.
She hadn’t returned just to perform some charade with him; already, her temples throbbed with tension.
In the Marta Empire, no one would fail to recognize the meaning of “white lace gloves.”
Legend held that the first Emperor had presented white lace gloves to his future Empress during his courtship—a tale passed down through generations.
Historical records confirmed they became a devoted couple, and even today, gloves were occasionally given in homage—though strictly among the imperial family.
‘Is he truly sane, giving this to me?’
Viare wanted nothing more than to tear the gloves to shreds before everyone’s eyes.
She tried to mask her expression, but emotions cannot be entirely concealed.
Watching her delicate hand tremble with fury, the Crown Prince merely shrugged and said,
“Already overwhelmed, Princess?”
“It sounds as if something even more shocking awaits me.”
Frowning as if genuinely puzzled by her question, he straightened from his slouch and leaned closer toward Viare.
“Of course. At the engagement banquet, I’ll give you something even better.”
Though she knew it was pure presumption, his utter certainty that their marriage was inevitable filled her with revulsion.
‘It will never happen your way.’
Determined not to play along with his schemes, Viare knew she had to escape this situation at once.
Why She Is Still Unmoved (Female-dominant)
One-line summary: He uses various methods to seek her affection, but she remains unmoved.
Synopsis:
Si Qingyu is a doctor who has saved countless lives and enjoys tranquility.
Luo Shaoxuan is ruthless, deeply scheming, and the top young master in the capital. He admires Si Qingyu.
Luo Shaoxuan: I want to be the only one in your eyes and heart.
Features a cold and calm female lead vs A noble and scheming male lead.
There will be both sweetness and torture towards the male after their marriage.
ARE YOU FUCKING DUMB?! just tell her the truth!!! 🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️🤦🏻♀️