No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 125

They say even a ruined rich man can last three years. But Edgar’s beauty didn’t even make it a few weeks.

His once-decent appearance had faded into something pathetic, and the thick, wiry beard only made his still-full head of hair look even messier.

“Oh, so you’ve got the guts to look me straight in the eye. Impressive, huh?”

His voice, dripping with sarcasm, didn’t carry the same sharpness it used to. It seemed even his voice had deteriorated—maybe from sleeping in the study instead of the bedroom.

“You seriously came to my house? Still hoping to take something from me? Just look at what you’ve done to the Linton estate!”

He threw his arms wide, expecting me to be shocked. I gave a quick glance around, just to humor him.

“You’ve destroyed the home of the prestigious Linton family. A mansion passed down through three generations!”

“I don’t know if three generations counts as prestigious,” I said coolly.

Three generations was just the minimum required for recognition as nobility.

The Bastian Dukedom, for example, dated all the way back to the founding of the kingdom. And while the Marquessate of Federica didn’t go back quite as far, it was still a well-respected house with deep roots.

Edgar’s title, inherited from his great-grandfather, barely scraped by. Claiming tradition and legacy over that was a stretch.

“There’s only a one-generation difference between your family and the Rosette family. What, are you trying to bring up that old, tired argument again—that your house is more noble than mine?”

And there it was—why Edgar always went on and on about the Linton family’s honor.

He was insecure because the Rosette family was older than his.

Maybe that’s why he tore Cecilia down every chance he got—just to build himself up.

Of course, it wasn’t only about family pride. Edgar had never truly loved Cecilia. He never could have.

Poor Cecilia. I pitied her without feeling a thing. I had paid back my debt to her. Now, she was nothing more than a distant acquaintance in my mind.

“Did we ever actually have that kind of conversation? From what I remember, you always did all the talking during dinner.”

Thanks to the servant, who had wisely hidden anything Edgar could throw, he was left glaring at nothing, stomping like a child.

Not bad. Maybe I had underestimated Justin a little.

Sure, the man was easily scared—but he was big enough that people wouldn’t challenge him outright. That meant his timid personality wouldn’t be exposed too easily. He was strong, obedient, and not bad to have around.

“I’m here because you still haven’t paid the compensation the court ordered. The same ruling the Queen herself witnessed. I’ve waited long enough, but there’s no sign you’re going to follow through.”

Edgar, who had been making a scene just moments before, froze.

“…What did you say?”

“I don’t know if you read the papers, but apparently Miss Elodie is set to appear on stage soon. Can you believe it? I was honestly surprised. I never thought you would pretend she didn’t exist. I mean, I figured—even if you sold off your last piece of land—you’d take responsibility for her, at least.”

Since I had once thought that might happen, the lie came out easily. It wasn’t completely untrue—but not entirely honest either.

Until I left, Edgar had cared for Elodie deeply.

He always said he’d only have children with his wife, but after he decided to send me to a convent, I’m sure he seriously considered Elodie.

Maybe not enough to make her Countess—but enough to treat her like one in public. He probably thought about letting her raise a child while pretending they were a happy family.

Unfortunately for him, I fled to the Marquessate of Federica. If I really became one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, Edgar would be backed into a corner—and he knew it. That’s probably when he changed his mind.

I had a feeling Joanna was behind that shift. She needed me to stay Countess—for her daughter’s sake.

That overly dramatic confession Edgar gave in the garden at Federica? It was the product of that desperation.

If Ricardo hadn’t stepped in and brought Elodie, things might have turned out very differently.

If Elodie had safely delivered the child, she would never have let Edgar go.

He was the father, after all. And unlike her, he was a noble. She would’ve stayed—for the child.

“You truly loved her, didn’t you? You couldn’t stand me even before the marriage—but to abandon Elodie like this? She was pregnant with your child. Isn’t that going too far?”

“That damned lie ruined me! Can’t you see what she did?!”

“Lie? Elodie really was pregnant. And the one who caused her to lose that baby… was you. If you hadn’t betrayed her—”

“Shut up! I don’t believe a word of it! I was the one who was betrayed! She played the helpless girl, seduced me, and when she had nothing left to gain, she ran to you! And you think I’d believe someone like that?!”

Ah… So that’s how he made peace with himself.

Elodie really had been pregnant. And according to the midwife, the child was a boy.

If that was true, then Edgar—by his own betrayal—had killed his own son.

It wasn’t guilt over losing the child. It was fear. Fear that he’d be remembered not only as an adulterer—but as the man who caused the death of his own son. That was a stain on his name he couldn’t bear.

“Believe it or not, the truth is written down for everyone to see. Count Edgar of Linton—unfaithful, and responsible for the death of his own child. But never mind that. I actually came to warn you. You bought land in the capital using my estate as collateral. If you don’t fulfill your end, I’ll go straight to the man who sold it to you and tell him the Count has no intention of paying. That land deal? Dead forever.”

His angry face twisted with confusion. By the time I finished speaking, he looked completely stunned.

Edgar had always treated me like I was foolish—so much so that he eventually believed it himself.

“What are you talking about? What land? I don’t understand a thing you’re saying.”

“You don’t have to understand. But the man I’m going to speak to will. That’s all I had to say. And since talking to you never ends well, I’ll take my leave now.”

The servant immediately came to stand behind me. Edgar flinched at his size, then rushed to block the door as I stepped forward.

“Wait. We’re not finished.”

“I’ll say it again—we’ve never had a real conversation. Even just now wasn’t one. You threw a tantrum, I delivered a message. That’s not what anyone would call a conversation.”

“Wait—don’t go. Cecilia, you’re not that cruel. You’re just angry, right? Like Countess Rosette said—you still love me. That’s why you’re doing this. Alright, fine. What do I have to hide now? Just apologize once, and I’ll forgive everything. Let’s call it a fight between husband and wife. Sure, I was mad when you brought the Queen into this, but you came to see me, didn’t you? That means you still care.”

Backed into a corner, Edgar tried to bury the truth and force his fantasy onto me.

During the trial, Joanna had screamed like her life depended on it, insisting that I loved my husband.
And then, right after that, she brought in Elodie to completely humiliate him.
But Edgar conveniently forgot that part. He only remembered what made him look good.
Honestly, that was so typically Edgar.

“Count Linton.”

I raised a hand to stop the servant, who had started puffing up his chest, ready to intimidate.

As I stepped forward, Edgar’s face brightened for a second. But his lost looks made it useless.

“I don’t love you, Count. And I never will. That love died the day I woke up for the sixth time.”

That was the day Cecilia died, too—so it wasn’t even a lie.

“You never gave me your love, and looking at how you treated Elodie, it doesn’t seem like it was worth much anyway. So take that useless thing called ‘love’ and keep it to yourself. What I want is money. If you don’t want to lose the rest of your estate, then both Elodie and I need to be paid—within three days.”

Edgar shook his head, like he was trying to erase what he’d just heard.
He kept mumbling to himself, “No… That’s not right…”

“Move him, will you?”

The servant didn’t hesitate. He picked Edgar up and planted him beside the door he’d been blocking.

Leaving Edgar behind, I walked out of the Linton estate.

Susan came out to see me off, bowing her head in apology.

I hesitated for a moment—should I help her get out of here?

“I’ll be alright,” she said, as if she’d already figured out what I was thinking.

“I’m planning to return to my hometown soon.”

If she already had a plan, there was no need for me to step in. I nodded and walked away.

I was just about to climb into the carriage when I heard a loud voice behind me.

“Lia!”

Edgar. He came running barefoot and yanked my wrist roughly.

I guess his rage had finally caught up with him and boiled over.

I looked down at his furious face like I was watching someone else’s drama.
Standing on the carriage step, I was a bit unsteady, but I kept my balance.

“How could you do this to me?! You loved me! You can’t just change overnight! This is all because of that bastard Ricardo Bastian, isn’t it?! You’re chasing after him—hoping to become a duchess! But don’t fool yourself, Lia. The Bastian family would never accept a second wife. You’ll end up just like Elodie. That woman you always hated—you’ll become her. Unless you come back to me first.”

Maybe he was trying to convince me to come back.

And maybe he would have finished that pathetic speech—if Ricardo hadn’t shown up right then, riding in on horseback.

He jumped down, grabbed Edgar by the collar, and punched him square in the face.

Edgar collapsed with a grunt.

He let go of my wrist as he fell, making me stumble—but Ricardo caught me and held me steady.

“You bastard… You illegitimate scum!”

“Lia, are you hurt?”

Ricardo didn’t even look at Edgar. He checked me first.

Edgar staggered to his feet, blood smeared across his lips. Ricardo, who had landed the blow, didn’t even glance at his hand.

“Your bloodline never changes. Even after sitting in the young master’s chair, you still swing your fists like a thug! Go on, hit me again! Let’s see how far your precious Bastian family will go to protect their bastard son!”

Edgar shouted like a madman, but I ignored him and turned to Ricardo.

“Were you following me?”

“Of course not.”

“You showed up awfully on time.”

“I sensed you were in danger. Really—I was home, doing nothing, and then suddenly, my body just moved on its own.”

“What about your assignment?”

Ricardo grinned.

“Finished it.”

Then, without hesitation, he kicked Edgar in the shin as the man tried to rush at us again.

Edgar collapsed, and I looked down at him coldly.

“I’m not planning to become a duchess. But the Duchess of Bastian does seem to want me there quite badly.”

“Lies…”

“Count Linton. Enough with the pathetic act. Send the money. You have three days.”

He acted like some tragic hero—like a man too poor to keep the woman he loved.
Even with his face swollen from Ricardo’s punch, he still had the nerve to look up at me with those pitiful eyes, like he was the victim.

I couldn’t even bring myself to call it pathetic. It was just… sad.

“Let’s go home. And make sure you return the horse to my stables,” I said to Ricardo.

I wasn’t about to let him abandon his horse like last time.

This one clearly had the Rosette family crest on its bridle.

Looking at Ricardo—mildly sheepish—and Edgar, lying broken on the ground, I thought:

A blind follower was still better than someone who was rotten from birth.

If only I could be sure that his faith in me would never change.

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