No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 108

Count Malone Berger, my uncle, looked like he was seconds away from collapsing from a spike in blood pressure.

Lady Rosette—no, Joanna Estas, now stripped of her former title—was perfectly composed as she led us into the drawing room.

“Y-You shameless thing! Didn’t I clearly say the drawing room is for members of House Rosette only?!”

“Cecilia, it worries me to see your uncle so upset just at the sight of me. Don’t you think he should retire to the countryside for his health?”

Strictly speaking, Joanna had no connection whatsoever to Count Berger. They were total strangers.

The count had already filed the divorce paperwork on behalf of the late Count Rosette, and the court—under the Queen’s influence—had granted it.

Still, she insisted on calling him “brother-in-law,” perhaps in the hope he might really collapse.

“Lady Joanna.”

She turned sharply at my call.

“We’ve shared over a decade together. I thought this name would feel more natural than ‘Lady Estas.’ But if it offends you, I’ll change it.”

During the divorce proceedings, Joanna had clung to the belief that I still loved my husband.
She likely saw the entire court case as nothing more than a desperate move to bring Edgar back.

“I never expected you to call me ‘Mother,’ but I didn’t think you’d jump to addressing me by name.”

“I thought you’d be relieved I only brought up Edgar’s crimes in court. I could’ve exposed how you deliberately stole the dowry my mother left me, but I didn’t.”

Joanna’s lips trembled. But she quickly gathered herself, putting on the façade of a dignified former Countess.

“It’s quite inappropriate to say such things in front of outsiders. If you can’t even distinguish what should and shouldn’t be said, how could I ever trust you? If your dowry was really from your mother, it should still be untouched, with your name on it.”

This was hardly hallway-appropriate conversation.

The estate staff, out of caution, avoided the corridor we were in—but a few couldn’t resist pretending to pass by “accidentally,” hoping to catch bits of the drama.

“You’ve brought guests. The least you could do is show them some hospitality. Let’s not do this here—let’s go to the drawing room.”

“Lady Joanna, I heard from my uncle that the drawing room is off limits. I don’t know how discipline works among the maids of House Rosette, but I do know that your stubbornness can’t override an order from Count Berger.”

Meaning, there probably wouldn’t be any refreshments waiting in the drawing room anyway.

“I’m here to send you back to House Estas and to determine Isla’s future.”

“Isla is the Count’s biological daughter!”

Joanna had managed to remain calm, even when provoked—but the mention of Isla shattered that.

“Fine. You submitted the divorce papers without my consent, stripped me of everything, turned me from a widow into a divorcee. I could even let that go. If you resented me for the petty slights of your childhood, fine—I’d look past it. But they say there’s no reward in raising another’s child. All you get is blame. And look what I’ve become.”

Tears spilled from her eyes, perfectly timed.

She didn’t even bother wiping them away—just let them fall freely, hoping to draw sympathy.

But who here would feel sorry for Joanna?

Not Count Berger—he’d already been through enough, managing this estate and enduring her endless antics.

She certainly wasn’t expecting me to melt with compassion.

Then I noticed—her gaze had shifted to Ricardo.

Ricardo, who had been the one to open the case against Edgar. He was the reason this whole legal storm had started.

Joanna must have assumed he was the one person in this room who might still be moved.

“Lord Ricardo, I’m not a shameless woman. I swear to heaven I never mistreated Cecilia. If I’m guilty of anything, it’s failing to fully understand a sensitive child’s heart. I’m not asking for myself… but please, don’t let Cecilia take her anger out on my daughter, Isla—Count Rosette’s own blood.”

I could see her intent. Ricardo had only accused Edgar. My attorney had been the one to lay out Joanna’s sins in court.

She didn’t know that lawyer had also acted under Ricardo’s influence.
To her, Ricardo might still seem like a neutral party—or at least the lesser evil.

“If people say Cecilia cast out even her half-sister, what will become of her reputation? Fine. Let them call me a wicked stepmother. I don’t care. I just want my daughters to have a peaceful future.”

She was probably also playing into the gossip that Ricardo was my suitor, not my accuser. That misunderstanding gave her little drama a good deal more power.

Her plea was clear:
The woman you care about is about to ruin her reputation in a single, reckless act. Are you really just going to stand by?

“And Isla’s not even engaged yet. Even if Cecilia means well, the way a sister and a mother express care is not the same. Please, Lord Ricardo. Just convince her to let me stay at the estate until Isla is married.”

A touching plea—so much so that even Count Berger, who had seen her as nothing but trouble, couldn’t quite hide his conflicted expression.

Ricardo, on the other hand, looked entirely unmoved.

You’d think he wasn’t even listening.

Joanna, caught up in her own performance, didn’t notice.
She kept pretending to wipe tears from her cheeks—though none of them had ever truly dried.

To stop tears, you need to apply pressure to the tear ducts inside the eyes—
but Joanna simply kept brushing her cheeks, letting the tears flow down again and again, as if to amplify the sorrow.

That extra drama was enough to sway Count Berger’s sympathy,
but it was far from enough to break through Ricardo’s emotional fortress.

“Lia. Lady Estas is trying to force me to overstep my bounds.”

“It’s Lady Cecilia, Lord Ricardo.”

“Shouldn’t we be past this by now?”

“Coming from the man I gave a dictionary to specifically so he’d learn to use proper titles—really?”

“Between us, formality seems unnecessary.”

“There is nothing between us, Lord Ricardo.”

Ricardo’s idle banter made it instantly clear that Joanna was no longer even in his field of interest.

Just as he intended, Joanna’s tears dried up the moment she saw him call me by a pet name.

“As you can see, Lady Joanna, Lord Ricardo has no intention of overstepping. He’s here under Her Majesty’s orders, to ensure justice is properly carried out—not to intervene on my behalf.”

I walked past Joanna and took the lead.
Naturally, Ricardo and Count Berger followed behind.

That was deliberate—knowing how much it would bruise Joanna’s pride to have the others fall in line behind me.

“Lady Joanna, since you’re still a guest in House Rosette, it’s only right I see to your hospitality. You there—stop polishing that already clean window and go to the kitchen. Tell them to prepare refreshments for the drawing room.”

I gestured toward a maid who had been suspiciously focused on a spotless window, and opened the door to the drawing room.

I expected the room to be empty.

Instead, someone was already sitting inside.

“Mother!”

It was Isla.
Of course. So that’s why Joanna had been so determined to use the drawing room—she’d sent Isla ahead to occupy it.

As Count Rosette’s biological daughter, Isla had every right to use the space.
And the staff wouldn’t dare snub her openly.

“Isla!”

The two flung themselves into each other’s arms like it was a tearful reunion after years apart.
I ignored them both and took the seat of honor.

“Uncle, take the sofa with the footrest.”

“What about me?” Ricardo asked.

“Well, you’re strong enough to stand for a while, Lord Ricardo.”

“That’s true.”

Just like he had at the debutante ball, Ricardo moved to stand behind my chair.

Count Berger, having spent far too long on his feet thanks to Joanna’s one-woman show, groaned as he stretched out his stiff knees and rested them on the ottoman.

“We should’ve just come here from the start. Are your legs all right? Should I call a physician?”

“No need. Just old bones creaking. As long as I don’t stand too long, I’m fine. But that woman…”

He trailed off into a cough, silenced by Isla’s glare—sharp as a blade.

“Cecilia, you’re the only one who really thinks about me,” he muttered. “Both of them are Mikhail’s children, and yet nothing about that girl—looks or temperament—resembles him at all.”

“Are you insulting my mother right now, Count Berger?”

Even after fleeing the courtroom in disgrace, Isla’s fire hadn’t dulled.
In a way, it was impressive how consistent she was.

“My mother is the rightful lady of House Rosette. After Father died, she kept this family going all on her own! What gives you the right to decide how she’s treated? You got married and left—why come back just to bully her?!”

“Lady Isla is as spirited as ever,” Ricardo whispered, bending close to my ear.

Whatever Isla thought she saw in that whisper, it sent her into a trembling fury.

“You betrayed Count Linton to become a duchess! That kind, noble man—you ruined him in court! You even dragged a cheap theatre singer into it, humiliated her in public! Do you actually think you’ll ever be accepted as Duchess of Bastian? Duke Bastian would never recognize someone like you. Never!”

Joanna watched her daughter’s outburst with satisfaction,
her face practically glowing with smug approval.

She probably thought the same things herself—just didn’t have the nerve to say them in front of Ricardo.

“Isla! Is that any way to speak to your sister?! From now on, Cecilia is the head of House Rosette. If you don’t want her care, then follow your mother back to House Estas!”

Neither Ricardo nor I flinched.
We’d seen Isla’s tantrums before.

But Count Berger looked deeply shaken.

It seemed Isla had kept up a sweet and obedient act in front of him—until I arrived and set her off.

“I don’t need to depend on my sister! She’s a complete orphan, but I still have a mother. If it means I don’t have to tiptoe around her my whole life, I’d gladly go to House Estas with my mother!”

“Well, there you have it, Lady Joanna.”

Joanna had tried to stop her daughter partway through, but once Isla’s dam broke, there was no stopping it.

Isla danced out of reach and finished her tirade triumphantly.
It was exactly the declaration I’d hoped for.

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