No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 117

The Duchess of Bastian seemed perfectly satisfied with letting us stay just one night. She didn’t pressure us in the slightest.

She didn’t even suggest we have dinner together, nor did she expect a proper farewell the next morning. All she said was that we were free to skip such formalities.

But there was one thing she refused to compromise on—the carriage.

As the acting head of the family in the Duke’s absence, the Duchess insisted that no one could say she neglected her guests. She would not tolerate such rumors.

Maybe things would’ve been different if the Duke had been home, but within the mansion, Ricardo didn’t seem to be treated poorly at all.

The maid assigned to him by the Duchess politely addressed him as “Young Lord Ricardo,” and there was no hint of forced courtesy in her voice.

Leaving the Duchess—who’d ultimately refused to say goodbye—we stepped out of the house.

Ricardo, already waiting outside, was staring at the Bastian family carriage with a heavy look on his face.

“Lia.”

He only turned around after I made a noise on purpose. That alone said enough—his mind wasn’t at ease.

“It might be better to send someone to fetch the Rosette family’s carriage.”

“But the Duchess went through the trouble of preparing this for us. She didn’t even offer us breakfast—probably so we’d leave before the streets got crowded. She wanted to avoid attention. That’s why she’s insisting you ride in this carriage.”

The Duchess clearly had high hopes for Ricardo.

She seemed to truly believe he could restore the honor of House Bastian, which had been ruined by both the current and former Duke.

Judging by her behavior yesterday, I had the feeling that if Ricardo even slightly resembled his great-grandfather in appearance, she would’ve accepted him completely, bastard or not.

The relationship between the Duke and Duchess was already beyond repair. I didn’t know what the Duke thought, but it was clear the Duchess had long since grown sick of him.

If it were me, I would’ve just walked away from someone I hated that much. But she chose revenge instead.

To her, Ricardo was the perfect weapon.

The current Duke had probably spent his life being criticized by the previous one: “Why can’t you be more like your grandfather?”

And now, standing right in front of him, was Ricardo—a bastard child who had somehow inherited all the best traits of the Bastian family. The very qualities the Duke himself lacked.

People who didn’t know the truth liked to gossip, saying the Duke ignored Ricardo out of respect for the Duchess. But the reality was far pettier than that.

“There was a time when I felt lucky just to be useful to her,” Ricardo said. “My birth mother practically made a business out of selling her child, so I never expected anything better from a stranger like the Duchess. But once I realized she treated me well only because I was useful, I actually felt lighter.”

He let out a quiet sigh, then bowed his head and gently kissed the tip of my fingers.

“I’m sorry. I dragged you into this mess.”

If his lips had touched the back of my hand instead, I might’ve brushed it off. But even such a small gesture, simple and meaningless to most, had always felt complicated with him. And now, he could only manage a kiss to my fingertips.

“The Duke was always bound to become just a powerless old man with a title. His Majesty may be shockingly incompetent, but the throne still carries weight, simply by existing. My dear bastard ally was about to carry out a plan to push the Duke aside and hand me real power… but of all times, the Duchess had to step in now.”

It sounded like he had planned to proudly present the Bastian name to me once he took control. And he probably had.

Even when he did things that looked like affection, Ricardo worked hard to keep his distance from House Bastian.

One example? He only stepped into the public eye after he was knighted.

“Lord Ricardo” was just a bastard son of the Duke. But “Sir Ricardo” was a knight, officially appointed by the king himself.

“I’ve been stuck in this mess for a long time now,” I said. “And honestly, there are plenty of people who’d happily crawl through that same filth if it meant being connected to House Bastian.”

I wanted to comfort him. That urge crept in sometimes when we were together.

He had a strange way of making me feel like a normal person. I wasn’t sure he even realized it.

“What do all those people matter?” he asked. “I know you’re not one of them.”

It could’ve been dismissed as blind devotion. But deep down, I couldn’t deny that Ricardo still saw something in me others didn’t.

He knew exactly what I was—a cold, unfeeling, defective person. Even when I showed kindness, he would quietly watch, trying to figure out if it was real.

And when he sensed that it wasn’t genuine, he would actually feel relieved.

“All filth feels the same,” I said. “Once you’re already dirty, it doesn’t really matter what else gets thrown on top. So I don’t see the point in avoiding this carriage just to spare the Duchess’s feelings.”

I got into the carriage, leaving Ricardo—who looked slightly reassured—behind. The carriage hadn’t even started moving, but my stomach churned like I was already carsick.

The nausea only grew stronger when I looked at Ricardo’s face, so I turned my eyes toward the window.

What he really wanted was someone to worship. I knew that. So why was it getting harder to be near him?

I had spent my whole life playing the roles others wanted me to play.

From the first failure that was my mother, I had learned how not to want anything.

Yes, I had learned. I had been trained.

Although I shamelessly acted like I was born broken in front of the Queen, the truth was, I had only managed to fool myself.

The rising nausea grew worse as forgotten memories from the past surfaced. I bit my lip, trying not to throw up.

But despite my effort, just before we arrived at the Rosette estate, I had to stop the carriage and rush out, vomiting bitter stomach acid at the base of a tree.

Ricardo, startled, followed behind, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch me. He hovered nearby, anxious and helpless.

“It’s… just motion sickness. An empty stomach, that’s all.”

I looked up briefly to make an excuse, only to see Ricardo’s face drained of all color. That sight made me bend over again.

A cautious hand touched my back. His large palm trembled slightly, as if he was afraid even a gentle touch might hurt me.

My nose stung. Probably just from the forced vomiting. The tears in my eyes were surely nothing more than a physical reaction.

And yet, he loved me.

Still, resentment toward Ricardo rose sharply in my chest.

He might’ve been a fanatic, but he was the only one who never tried to hide the fact that he loved me with everything he had.

It was a love entirely different from what I’d received from Margaret or Penelope.

They had shown affection, yes—but they were the kind of people destined to drift away eventually. They didn’t know who I really was. Like everyone else, they’d knock on the door of my heart for a while, but eventually give up and walk away when it didn’t open.

But Ricardo was different. He knew from the start that he wasn’t supposed to knock at all. He never even wished for the version of me hidden inside to come out.

Suddenly, I realized just how tangled and contradictory my thoughts were.

I avoided people who tried to get close, found it overwhelming and frightening—yet here I was, resenting Ricardo for not trying.

“Lia, have some water. Just a little, okay?”

Ricardo offered me a canteen, and I brought it to my lips. Even pale and worn, he still looked painfully beautiful—like a painting.

The cold water slid down my throat and slowly helped clear my head.

“I should call a doctor.”

“As I said, it was motion sickness from riding on an empty stomach. We’re just around the corner from home. Let’s go there first, and if I’m still feeling off, then you can call the doctor. It won’t be too late.”

Even if I learned how not to want anything, it didn’t change the fact that I was born without the capacity to feel properly. Watching Ricardo from the corner of my eye, I tried to collect my thoughts.

It was just a tantrum. I’d lost my grip for a moment because someone had finally seen me—really seen me—and was even willing to accept my flaws.

This fanatic of mine wanted nothing in return for his devotion. Unlike me—too much of a coward to accept the Queen’s help—Ricardo had faced himself, found his humanity, and yet still clung to me. I had no right to expect anything from him.

Expectations led to disappointment. Disappointment became despair. And I didn’t have the strength to crawl out of despair.

As always, my mother had been right. She said I was cursed. That I was nothing but a monster in human skin.

And maybe it was a good thing that I could still be useful to Ricardo—as a monster.

If he wanted the monster in me, then I would stay that way for as long as he didn’t grow tired of me.

“This is ridiculous. We’re calling a doctor the moment we arrive. No—I’ll call one.”

“You really don’t need to do that. More importantly, once I’m home, you need to leave right away. The gossip has already spread far enough for the Duchess to hear. Don’t you think it’s time to be a little more cautious?”

“Rumors don’t matter—”

“But they do. Yesterday, you made it very clear that we’re not the kind of relationship people think we are. His Highness asked you to assist me, yes—but that was only in helping settle my family matters. And those were dealt with yesterday.”

I’d taken the long way around, but the conclusion was the same. I would push Ricardo away, just as I always had. If he wanted to leave, I’d let him.

Avoiding his gaze, I got back into the carriage. After a moment, Ricardo followed, his steps hesitant and dragging.

We said nothing to each other on the way to the Rosette estate.

“Thank you for bringing me back, Sir Ricardo.”

“Lia—”

“I plan to spend the rest of my leave actually resting. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

His voice carried a quiet desperation, but I ignored it. He liked to beg like that, to make things sound more emotional than they were. But if I responded now, he’d feel uneasy and pull away again anyway.

So wouldn’t it be better to just let him go?

A quiet, mocking voice inside my head asked the question. I shook my head to silence it.

Since Ricardo wasn’t giving the signal, I gestured to the coachman myself to get going. After the carriage rolled away, I called over a nearby maid.

“You called, miss?”

She looked like she couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen—probably a garden hand.

Even in a household like the Count’s, servants were trained carefully. So a girl like her would never expect that I’d be giving her direct orders.

“Do you know Madam Penelope?”

“Of course, miss! Madam Penelope’s amazing—she’s a commoner like us, and she’s met the Queen herself!”

“Good. Go to her and tell her I’d like to see her. If she can come right away, that’s best. If not, ask her to come tomorrow morning.”

“Me? But I’m nobody, miss… I just pull weeds in the garden.”

“I know. That’s exactly what you were doing when I called you.”

Even though I hadn’t made it sound like anything urgent, the girl nodded with fierce determination.

“I’ll bring her to you, I promise.”

“No, just pass along the message—”

“I’ll bring her, miss. I won’t betray your trust. If she’s not home, I’ll wait all night and bring her as soon as she returns.”

Before I could respond, the girl turned and ran off, still in her gardening clothes. I stood there, watching her go, feeling oddly hollow.

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