No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 116

Despite my sincere hope, the Duke of Bastian—who neither knew what tact was nor ever seemed to tire of barking, even in old age—never showed so much as a shadow.

“Duchess Bastian, surely you understand how foolish it is to judge a situation solely by appearances. Yes, Sir Ricardo may have taken it upon himself to act as my accuser the moment he received his knighthood, and yes, he may be going above and beyond to involve himself in every matter of mine…”

“Exactly, my point. If he’s pulling every kind of silly trick right out in the open, who knows what he’s doing behind closed doors? The mere thought of it made me realize I couldn’t just sit back and watch anymore.”

The Duchess of Bastian gave Ricardo a long look, like one might give a large piece of furniture—one she no longer wanted but had grown too attached to simply throw out.

“If Lady Cecilia is agreeable, I’ve been considering arranging a marriage. He might not look it, but he’s honest. He hasn’t even sowed wild oats—thank heavens he didn’t inherit a single thing from the Duke. Neither the face, nor the character.”

If Ricardo didn’t resemble the Duke at all, how on earth had he even been acknowledged as his illegitimate son?

It made me wonder—had the Duchess accepted him because he bore no resemblance to the man she had long since stopped hoping anything from?

“Ricardo takes after my grandfather-in-law. The late Duke of Bastian was a remarkably upright man. Unfortunately, he sired a poor heir—my father-in-law—and he in turn gave us my husband. It seemed inevitable that House Bastian would fall into decline. But then, of all things, this illegitimate child turns out to be a throwback to the great-grandfather.”

Strangely, there was no sting in the way she said illegitimate child. In fact, the slight smile on her lips suggested she was… pleased. It wasn’t just my imagination.

“Of course, the Duke dislikes Ricardo. My father-in-law spent his whole life under his own father’s shadow. He used to nag the Duke constantly—’Why don’t you take after your grandfather?’ Over and over. So, imagine the pain of seeing an unplanned bastard child do just that. It must drive him up the wall.”

She said it like it brought her some petty joy.

“I thank the heavens I didn’t give birth to that boy myself.”

The Duchess let out a sigh that sounded far too sincere.

“Just imagining my own child being mistreated by the Duke makes my blood boil. I’ll never know if that unborn child would’ve turned out like Ricardo, a perfect replica of his great-grandfather. But even if he hadn’t, the Duke would have found a way to crush him, just like he was crushed by his father.”

Ricardo, having just listened to his own identity being described as a symbolic curse placed on the Duke, simply shrugged.

“The Duke is old. He never had much clarity to begin with, and now he’s senile on top of it. Can’t tell up from down, just rants and raves. That’s why House Bastian has only one hope left—Lady Cecilia.”

They had just finished praising Ricardo’s noble bloodline and how he carried his great-grandfather’s legacy. But the conclusion… was that I was the only hope for House Bastian?

“Surely that’s a mistake, Your Grace. Sir Ricardo is the one who’ll inherit the dukedom—he’s your future hope.”

“That one’s all show. He finally becomes the young duke, and what does he do? Fawns over a king so dull even the people can’t tell who rules the country. The Queen is none too pleased with him either, from what I hear. If he’d just done half as well as you have, I’d rest easier.”

It was Ricardo who had pushed me toward the Queen in the first place. He gave up the good things to me, and ended up licking crumbs from the King’s table himself.

“Her Majesty cares for Sir Ricardo in her own way. She even introduced him to the Marchioness of Frederica.”

“I once had a little dog buried under that tree over there. My dear Tigre. I cared for him deeply. Even after he passed, I often come here to remember him.”

Tigre? I gave Ricardo a questioning look.

“She means the dog she raised like a child.”

“He was a dog?”

“He wasn’t a puppy by the time he died, but to her, he’ll always be her sweet little pup.”

So what she was saying was… Ricardo’s place in her life was somewhere between son and pet.

“Tigre was mischievous, yes, but still adorable. That one over there? He’s just a big brute. And when he makes a mess, it’s not the least bit cute.”

So… now she was saying Ricardo wasn’t even as charming as her dead dog.

“So yes, naturally I consider you, Lady Cecilia, the only hope for House Bastian. Her Majesty would adopt another pet before she’d ever truly favor a person. But even she went to court to keep you close. Whoever ends up on the throne, they’ll need Her Majesty’s favor—so being liked by her is worth far more than pandering to the current king. But this idiot…”

It all circled back to the same point: that Ricardo was disappointing, unreliable, and would single-handedly ruin the family if left unchecked.

“You’ve already tried being a countess. Why not give duchess a try next? I’ve heard all about your skill and tact, Lady Cecilia. Even that cold-blooded boy—who doesn’t glance at his own mother—seems ready to bark at the world just for your attention. That’s a good match if I’ve ever seen one.”

At this point, I couldn’t tell whether the Duchess was truly concerned for Ricardo… or just desperate for someone to salvage the family’s future.

Despite Ricardo’s story about their animosity, they didn’t seem like mortal enemies. But nor did they seem especially affectionate.

“Is she still making a scene?”

Ricardo, who had been quietly enduring the Duchess’s attempts to sell him off like some prized stallion, suddenly asked in a low voice.

“Six times out of ten, she doesn’t even make it out the door. Three times, she reaches the main road but gets dragged back. But once, she made enough of a stir for it to reach my ears.”

“You’d have an easier time if you just threw her in prison. Why waste money on people to keep her under control?”

“The moment you get married, she’ll be gone. If rumors start that the illegitimate son not only exists but has a disgraceful mother making a scene, your chances at marriage will be ruined. That’s why I tolerate her.”

It didn’t take long to figure out who they were talking about—Ricardo’s birth mother.

Ricardo stared at the side of my face for a long moment, as if lost in thought, before finally speaking.

“It’s true that I admire Lady Cecilia. But there’s no mutual agreement between us. As the Duchess knows, her previous marriage—putting it as kindly as possible—was a complete mess. And Lady Cecilia isn’t the type to keep reaching into fire after being burned once. She’s not like those foolish people. She’s made of something different.”

He had played along well with the Duchess’s relentless matchmaking and never dropped his teasing nicknames—but the moment his mother was brought up, he stiffened and formally rejected the idea.

Rather than admirable, it felt pitiful.

According to him, I had made him forget things he should have explained, forget the misfortunes of his past. But when the Duchess reminded him of the mother who was still very much alive, he was suddenly afraid she might harm me.

Ricardo didn’t even realize he was in love. He expressed his feelings not as a man in love, but as someone fulfilling a duty—like a devoted believer doing what he thought was right.

“Even if she promises to leave once I’m married…”

“Where would she go? Even if she ends up in prison, she’d eventually be released. And do you really think a woman like her would accept being cast out of the capital? Once I become Duke, she’ll be back—spinning lies about her son, the great and noble duke, just to scam money out of people. I can see it now.”

The Duchess didn’t respond. And that silence was confirmation enough—Ricardo’s mother was exactly the type of person he described.

In the end, the Duke of Bastian never showed up. And despite the Duchess’s efforts, her attempt to marry off Ricardo ended in failure, blocked by his firm refusal. What had begun as a tense encounter fizzled out with an anticlimactic end.

As we walked back across the vast garden, Ricardo was unusually quiet.

It wasn’t until we arrived at the spot where the carriage was supposed to be—and found nothing—that his patience snapped. He turned to the young man left behind, scowling with growing irritation.

“Did the Duchess’s trusted servant not think this through? If the carriage was sent off, there should’ve been another one prepared. What—was Lady Cecilia supposed to walk home alone, in the dark, like this?”

“Young Duke, I didn’t expect you’d be so eager to send Lady Cecilia away. I assumed she’d be spending the night. I’ve been busy preparing her room.”

“Send her away? Lia—don’t believe a word he says. This old man’s a professional liar. He’s made a career out of twisting words and stirring up trouble.”

Startled, he called me “Lia” again. I considered pointing it out, but let it go.

Compared to the dark expression he wore when his mother was mentioned, I preferred seeing him puffed up and picking fights with the Duchess’s staff.

“Her Grace already made arrangements. She even selected a personal maid to serve Lady Cecilia for the night. It may be just one evening, but she made it clear—no discomfort should be allowed.”

And yes, now that I saw him clearly, I could believe the man was older than he looked.

That smooth, practiced tongue. That persistent smile growing wider as Ricardo’s irritation deepened.

They didn’t look like a young master and his servant. More like an older brother teasing his much younger sibling.

“Her Grace’s kindness is appreciated, but tonight doesn’t feel like the right time.”

“In fact, there’s no better time than tonight, Lady Cecilia. His Grace is away on a hunting trip. He won’t return for at least three days. That gives you the perfect chance to get used to the estate you’ll one day inherit.”

Ricardo had only agreed to step foot in the estate because he was afraid of bumping into the Duke. That fear was what made him tense up while I tried to coax him into accepting the Duchess’s invitation.

The man who’d waited silently by the carriage had likely heard everything. He knew about Ricardo’s anxiety. And yet, he said nothing—because this had been the plan all along: use me as bait to draw Ricardo in and keep him here at least for one night.

Whether the Duchess was in on it or not was beside the point. What mattered was that the man—Alvaro—understood Ricardo very well. Too well.

“Alvaro. Cut the games. Go get the carriage.”

“With the Duke away, the Duchess is in charge. I’m just her humble errand boy. I wouldn’t dare ask her to reverse her decision. If you’re in such a rush, you could always go back and ask her yourself.”

Alvaro grinned as he calmly ignored Ricardo’s order.

He called him “young duke,” sure—but made it clear that someone higher outranked him. That Ricardo’s word didn’t carry weight here.

“If it’s a hassle, I’ll ask her myself.”

Yes, the Duchess had treated Ricardo kindly. And Ricardo had responded like a son doing the bare minimum to be polite.

But the truth was, Ricardo had been so nervous at the thought of seeing her that he couldn’t even breathe.

There was a moment when I doubted him—wondered if he’d exaggerated to win my sympathy. But looking back, it wasn’t the anxiety that was the act—it was the calm, composed version of him that had been the performance.

“I—”

“You can’t say it, can you?”

The moment he realized I understood how he felt, his face lit up with relief—only to darken again when he realized what that meant. That he’d let his guard down and revealed something he hadn’t meant to.

“I’m not in any position to say anything. The young duke, for some reason, can’t bring himself to speak. Lady Cecilia could—she has every right, and every reason—but the important thing is…”

Alvaro gave a gentle smile.

“The Duchess almost never changes her mind. So the two of you will end up staying here tonight either way. Rather than fighting it, why not start by relaxing and taking a nice bath?”

Ricardo sighed deeply, bringing our little standoff to its end.

With Count Berger already gone and no one left at House Rosette to report back on me, there was no real reason to return tonight. I had no solid excuse to argue against the Duchess’s hospitality.

So, in the end, I gave in. There was no other choice.

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