My Lover Isn't Interested With The Female lead!

 

 

 

 

While the surprised Lenard snatched Lucinella newspaper from her and started reading it, Kenneth was busy trying to soothe Letticia.

 

“I went through so much trouble to avoid getting involved with the Crown Princess route, and yet they publish an article like this! Should I just burn down the newspaper office? Seriously! I could stab the editor’s belly with a knife!”

 

“Letty, you shouldn’t say things like that!”

 

“…I can see why Letty went crazy.”

 

Lenard, having found the cause of Letticia’s fury, handed the relevant part of the paper to Camilla and Patrick. Camilla, shocked by her daughter’s outburst, took the newspaper her son handed her and clicked her tongue after reading it.

 

“Of all times, His Highness the Crown Prince leave away early… Did you not check this, Letty?”

 

“No, I didn’t check! I was the first one to leave! How was I supposed to know that someone would leave so early?”

 

At that moment, everyone in the restaurant was grateful that only family members were present.

 

Patrick let out a sigh, put down the newspaper he was holding, and gently started to speak.

 

“The fact is, you only danced with His Highness the Crown Prince, and since he didn’t dance with any other debutantes, you can’t exactly dispute the article. If you intended to leave early, you should have considered this level of risk.”

 

“Who can think of every little thing like that? I figured he would at least dance once with Lady Eskis or one of the other ladies!”

 

“Honey, there were no other options at the time. If Letty had danced with even one person, people would have thought it strange for her to leave so soon. Right after the incident, there wasn’t a good timing to leave.”

 

As Camilla defended her, Patrick frowned as if he had a headache.

 

“Instead of being overshadowed by the jewel dress, you solidified your position as a candidate for the Crown Princess. While this may be a positive outcome for Sharon Jewelry, Letty, it continues to tighten around your neck.”

 

“Father, can’t I just burn down Lucinella somehow? Mother, can’t you get some magic device or something like that from the Magic Tower?”

 

Camilla, trying to calm her frenzied daughter, motioned for her to settle down and replied.

 

“Though there are devices for setting fires, they’d know it was you. The Magic Tower keeps a record of every customer and the items they buy.”

 

“And I can’t bear to see my daughter being caught as an arsonist.”

 

Letticia, slowly coming back to her senses after her parents’ cold words, realized the futility of setting Lucinella ablaze. If she’d suffer alone, it wasn’t worth making such a foolish choice.

 

“Still, I worked so hard pretending not to notice just to stay off His Highness’s radar, yet these rotten newspapers keep trying to push me into that hell, ugh!”

 

As Letticia clutched her chest and lamented, Kenneth patted her back and offered words of comfort.

 

“Don’t worry too much, Letty. Judging by His Highness’s attitude yesterday, it doesn’t seem likely he’ll choose you as the Crown Princess.”

 

“…True, it’s his decision to make. Fine.”

 

At Kenneth’s reassuring words, Letticia regained her peace of mind. Just then, the butler entered the dining room holding a tray with a letter on it.

 

“A letter for the young lady.”

 

“For me?”

 

Letticia picked up the letter and, upon examining the seal, froze. The seal, adorned with a peacock and peony, belonged to the imperial family, specifically the Empress.

 

Hastily opening the letter, Letticia read the contents and sighed. It was an invitation for a tea party that the Empress would be hosting next week at the palace.

 

“Mother, the Empress has sent me an invitation!”

 

Camilla took the invitation Letticia handed her, looked it over, and nodded knowingly.

 

“She’s been looking forward to inviting you since your debut. Now seems to be the time.”

 

“It really is just a tea party with the Empress, right? There’s no chance His Highness is waiting there or anything, right?”

 

“That’s possible, but if you don’t want to go, she won’t force you. She’s not the type to insist on something unless the fate of the country depends on it.”

 

Relieved, Letticia abandoned her fleeting thought of pushing Seraphina forward instead. Though she often played the role of the villainess, her conscience wouldn’t allow her to sacrifice Seraphina as Matthias’s scapegoat.

 

“So, if I decline, there’s no chance I’ll be pressured to become the Crown Princess under the guise of imperial dignity, right?”

 

“She’s not that type of person, and the imperial authority isn’t so weak that it would crumble over something so trivial.”

 

“Sometimes, I wonder what you think of the empire. It’s called the Empire because it’s the largest and strongest nation on the continent.”

 

Patrick’s words pricked Letticia slightly. In romance fantasy novels, empires were a dime a dozen, so she hadn’t truly appreciated the rarity of an empire.

 

‘Well, they call anything an empire these days… And to think that someone like Matthias is the Crown Prince.’

 

Though Matthias was portrayed as a capable crown prince in the original story and people praised his competence, it was hard to believe, as every scene featuring him in the original was about him denying his obsession with Ariette or acting like a madman in his fixation on her.

 

“Well, since you haven’t had much experience dealing with the imperial family, I understand why you’re anxious, but don’t jump to conclusions. If you say things like that in public, people will think you’re delusional.”

 

“Oh, but some of my predictions could still be right. What’s wrong with considering all the possibilities?”

 

“Because it’s highly unrealistic. The imperial family doesn’t have nothing better to do than force someone into the position of Crown Princess.”

 

Letticia barely restrained herself from saying, ‘That was exactly what they almost did to Ariette.’ Strictly speaking, it was the Crown Prince Matthias who did the coercing, not the imperial family itself.

 

Just then, Kenneth checked his watch and spoke to Letticia.

 

“Letty, it’s time to head upstairs and get ready. They’ll start arriving in an hour.”

 

“Oh!”

 

Letticia quickly got up and dashed toward the second floor. Until yesterday, she had been able to take her mornings leisurely, but today was different.

 

For the next two days, during the morning tea time, suitors would be visiting.

 

***

 

The day after Countess Freke’s ball, which marked the transition between the first and second halves of the social season, is known as the ‘visitation season.’

 

Until then, men had only scouted for suitable matches, but during these two days, they would visit the homes of the women they fancied, bringing gifts and presenting themselves to the parents as suitors.

 

Although prior arrangements weren’t required for these visits, the stay was limited to ten minutes, and if the timing happened to overlap with another suitor, the time to make an impression was shortened accordingly.

 

Thus, most men simply aimed to leave a good impression on the woman and gain the parents’ approval as potential suitors, saving serious courtship for later, when they could arrange private meetings.

 

While women had the right to decline a proposal, it was rare for someone to turn away a suitor at this stage unless the suitor’s reputation was exceptionally bad.

 

For eligible brides, the number of suitors during visitation season was a clear indication of their value in the marriage market.

 

So, Letticia, dressed gracefully, sat in the parlor, awaiting the servant who would announce the arrival of the suitors.

 

As soon as the clock struck eleven, the butler entered and announced the names of the visitors.

 

“The Marquess of Digby and the Count of Cromwell have arrived.”

 

“Marquess Digby and Count Cromwell?”

 

Having met so many people this season, Letticia couldn’t remember all their names.

 

Fortunately, Camilla and Kenneth, who were seated beside her, quickly filled her in.

 

“The Marquess Digby is an old noble and a member of the House of Lords, while Count Cromwell is a neutral party and a judge in the capital’s High Court.”

 

“Remember the Marquess? You met him at the ball held by his family. And the Count, he’s the thin man with glasses, whom you danced the traditional Ponteon dance with at Count Astley’s garden party.”

 

“Oh!”

 

As soon as Camilla provided the family background, Kenneth described the suitors’ appearances and reminded Letticia of her previous meetings with them.

 

With her memory refreshed, Letticia welcomed the suitors with a graceful smile as they entered the parlor.

 

“Lady Sharon, it is by the mercy of the gods that I am finally able to see you again. The weeks since our last meeting at my family’s ball have been sheer agony for me.”

 

“…Yes, it’s been a while, Marquess. How is the Marchioness?”

 

“Thanks to your concern, she’s doing very well.”

 

The first to greet her was the Marquess of Digby. Letticia, trying hard to maintain her composure, accepted the pink roses he offered, though his *buttery flattery made her want to roll her eyes.

 

It wasn’t only Letticia who found his words insufferable; the Count of Cromwell, who stood nearby, wore a displeased expression and made his introduction with impeccable manners, contrasting sharply with the Marquess’s tone.

 

“It’s been a while, Lady Sharon. It’s also lovely to see you again, Countess Sharon and Lord Sharon, since the garden party.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Count Cromwell.”

 

After briefly exchanging pleasantries with Camilla, the Count’s tense expression softened slightly, and he presented Letticia with a bouquet of white roses. Seeing this, the Marquess scoffed and mocked him.

 

“You brought plain white roses instead of pink ones? Perhaps you could put a bit more thought into your choice.”

 

 

🍓; *excessively smooth or insincere praise, often delivered in a way that feels overly sweet or false. His compliments too thickly, he’s trying too hard to charm or win her favor, to the point that it feels untrustworthy or exaggerated.