No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 105

Edgar had stolen my dowry to pay off the Linton family’s debts, walked around pretending to be wealthy—and now he insisted that he had nothing left except the estate. It was time to push back.

Because of Ricardo’s endless antics after the divorce was finalized, I’d kept putting this matter off. But I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Not that Ricardo had suddenly come to his senses and developed a noble desire to resolve the compensation.

“I went to Nathan.”

“When?”

“Yesterday.”

Of course, it had been one of those so-called secret meetings in our secret place—something Ricardo liked to claim was special between the two of us.

The location was private, yes, but calling it a secret meeting was pure Ricardo. He’d already gotten permission from the Queen to visit the palace—only to annoy her so much that she ordered us to get rid of him. So much for “secret.”

“Yesterday?” I repeated.

“Yeah. Yesterday.”

It normally took three full days by carriage to reach Nathan from the capital.

Even that required switching out coachmen and barely sleeping.

“There’s a shortcut on horseback,” Ricardo said, tracing a route on the table with his finger. “It’s easily a one-day ride.”

I hadn’t even finished exploring the capital yet, so trying to understand the geography outside it based on his rough explanation was a bit much.

“It was better than I expected. I figured people out there would barely be getting by, but there’s actually a decent middle class. Sure, most of the residents work the land, but trade doesn’t seem to be completely ignored either.”

He’d spent just one day there—but came back with a thick report.

It included neatly drawn graphs, with a detailed breakdown of the estate’s income and expenses.

“The bastard who pretended to be a nobleman must’ve worried someone would steal from him—he actually hired a pretty competent manager. I’m sure some money’s being skimmed off the top, but even with that, the leftover taxes suggest he’s living like a rich lord.”

I closed the report, which even had a survey of the residents’ overall happiness.

“If Edgar’s steward is doing that well, replacing him with Sir Juan won’t be easy.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.”

Ricardo hunched over, imitating an old man with a shaky voice.

“He’s so old no one would be surprised if he keeled over tomorrow. He said he’s eager to hand over the reins and retire.”

Still, just being old isn’t really enough reason to give up a job that not only supports you but also your whole extended family.

“Ricardo. Be honest. Did you threaten him?”

“Lia, how could you say that about me?”

“You threatened Viscount Damier to snatch the perfect spot for Margaret’s bouquet. That’s exactly the level I expect from you.”

Ricardo kicked at invisible grass and looked away, pretending to be innocent. But when I didn’t let it go, he finally admitted:

“A little.”

“How much is ‘a little’?”

“Just… a bit.”

“As in: ‘Step down now and you’ll get a generous retirement bonus, but if you refuse, I’ll frame you for anything I want and throw you out’—that kind of ‘bit’?”

Margaret had already tattled on him. She said he’d whispered that inviting him would please the King.

And, honestly, it wasn’t a lie. The King—also born to a mistress—had always been fond of Ricardo. Just as he had claimed the throne, he believed Ricardo deserved to become Duke of Bastian.

Ricardo had used the exact same tactic when running around noble houses, gathering signatures to support his claim as the Duke’s heir.

He’d even managed to win over Marchioness Federica with that silver tongue.

Given that the King had always seen himself as alone—aside from his mistress Karola, he believed he had no true allies—it wasn’t surprising he’d fallen for Ricardo’s words.

Now, the King was completely taken with him. He was eager to give him anything.

Lately, he’d even suggested that the aging Duke of Bastian take a step back and let Ricardo attend royal meetings in his place.

Of course, the Duke had rejected that offer immediately. Ricardo, sulking, had then camped out in the palace gardens, pouring his heart out about his “tragic fate” to the King.

“I simply explained Count Linton’s situation objectively. That’s it. I thought that was already clever enough—but clearly, your mind works on another level.”

So now my brain was the evil one? Ricardo’s compliments always had a way of sounding backhanded.

He was giving me that same look now—as if he were a devoted follower, ready to believe anything I said was the ultimate truth.

“I reminded him that continuing to serve a corrupt master is also a kind of wrongdoing. After that, he said he’d pray for Matias to arrive safely and lift the burden from his shoulders.”

“And how exactly is that not what I just said?”

“There’s a huge difference.”

“Such as?”

“For starters,” Ricardo said, grinning, “the words came from my mouth, not yours. Isn’t that explanation enough?”

It was something I really needed to do—but for now, I let it go.
The Queen showed no sign of letting me leave the palace.

Even though I still needed to confront Edgar—who kept ignoring the matter of the compensation—and also face Lady Rosette, who was still holed up in the Rosette estate.

I understood that the Queen’s schedule had grown extremely packed since I first arrived at her court. But if that were really the issue, she could have simply chosen a new lady-in-waiting instead of waiting around for Margaret.

The Queen was no longer the ghostly, forgotten royal she once was.
Now, she was someone who mattered.

Nearly every day, people came to the Queen’s residence—most of them bringing their daughters.

They all hoped their daughters would be as lucky as I had been, that one of them would catch the Queen’s eye.

But those hopes were repeatedly dashed—thanks to Ricardo, who was still stationed in the Queen’s wing.

The young ladies would come into the parlor full of ambition, determined to become one of the Queen’s attendants—but after meeting Ricardo, that ambition would shift entirely.

His cold demeanor didn’t dampen their fluttering affections in the slightest.
But the way that aloof man acted warm only toward me?
That was when they’d start biting down on their handkerchiefs in jealousy… only to end up clutching their heads and leaving early, complaining of headaches.

“If we’re going to repair the estate manor, it’ll take about three months. By then, Lady Margaret will have arrived at court—it’s perfect timing.”

“I can’t go without Her Majesty’s permission. And someone made very sure to convince her not to give it, which is why I had to change my plans.”

Ricardo kicked at the base of a tree, cracking the bark.

It wasn’t all that different from Edgar smashing my vanity—except I didn’t feel even a fraction of the fear now that I had back then.

Maybe because I knew Ricardo wouldn’t hurt me.
I knew he’d regained his humanity.

Now that Ricardo was “human,” he’d gone from stubbornly insisting I couldn’t leave for Nathan… to flipping the switch and suddenly pushing me to go, as if he couldn’t wait.

“Ricardo, do you remember what I said to you before?”

“Every single word.”

I had said a lot to him. And the fact that he answered without asking what I meant—without hesitation—was probably a sign I was just as far gone as he was.

But if it was Ricardo… he really would remember everything.

“Even what I said in Her Majesty’s Garden?”

He nodded.

“You didn’t answer me back then.”

“I missed the timing. The Queen showed up.”

“Then answer me now. You said you’d obey anything I told you. So—does that apply to what I asked you then?”

In the Queen’s Garden, I had told him never to love me.
It wasn’t really a question.
It was closer to an order.

Back then, Ricardo’s devotion—fueled by his delusion of being some devoted follower—was overwhelming.
Even when he was still lost in that delusion, the way he expressed his “devotion” looked far too much like love. It had always given me a bad feeling.

So when he caught Margaret’s bouquet and handed it to me, I couldn’t help but wonder—was he still the same?
It was a fair question.

“Yeah,” Ricardo said, so quickly and easily it made my doubt feel almost silly.

“Lia, you’re not someone I could ever love. How could I taint you with something as petty as that? My faith in you is firmer than that. It’s not something that fades over time. It’s belief. It’s faith.”

But his eyes… his eyes were speaking only of love.

With those words—meant to deny it—he confessed to a deeper, more desperate love than anything else he could have said.

“I’ll never love you. You don’t have to worry. Do you think I’d let you get caught up in something as filthy as emotion? Even standing this close to you, I feel no lust. That’s how pure it is.”

And with that, Ricardo took my hand and placed it against his chest.

His eyes were as calm and clear as he claimed—but the heartbeat I felt beneath my fingers was fast and uneven.

“No one says love is just lust, Ricardo. If your heart’s pounding like this…”

“I’m not a corpse.”

“No, you’re not. In fact, it’s pounding so fast I feel bad comparing it to one.”

“A devout believer would probably react the same way if they met the Messiah in person.”

“So, what you’re saying is—you don’t love me, you don’t feel lust, but you are excited?”

“Exactly.”

Ricardo nodded automatically—then paused, suddenly realizing what he’d agreed to.

“No, wait. That makes it sound like I’m some kind of weird pervert.”

“Weird pervert? Are you implying there are normal perverts? Because no, Ricardo. All perverts are weird.”

I corrected his backpedaling without missing a beat.

“So, just to recap: you don’t love me, don’t want me, but you’re excited enough to talk about making me your mistress?”

“I was serious about that offer.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do with a so-called ‘mistress’ who can’t even warm a bed?”

His heart thumped even faster.
Honestly, I started to worry he might pass out from the sheer emotional overload.

“I just meant it’d be a socially acceptable title for someone to stand beside you.”

Then Ricardo suddenly caught my hand—the one resting against his chest—and held it in place.

“Lia, do you… need someone to warm your bed?”

“What I need right now is a vacation. One approved by Her Majesty.”

So much for having no desire.
The look on Ricardo’s face made it very clear—if I did warm my bed with another man, he would personally set the guy on fire.

“I need to leave the palace so I can deal with Edgar, and Lady Estas. Edgar keeps stalling on the payment, and we also need to remind Lady Elodie that she, too, has compensation coming.”

“She hasn’t shown her face since the trial. I think Edgar’s feeling safe again.”

“And the bed?” Ricardo pressed.

Persistent as ever.

“Ricardo.”

I grabbed his collar, pulled him down to my level, and whispered like I was sharing a secret.

“The truth is, women don’t really need men. They need money.”

“…Money?”

“I’ll warm my bed with my own money, thank you very much. So, you can stop worrying about it.”

I left Ricardo behind in the Queen’s Garden—staring blankly into space.

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