No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 42

Tears welled up in Isla’s eyes.

“I’m fine, Edgar.”

I had to stop this situation from getting any worse.

It wasn’t yet time to become Countess Rosette’s open enemy.

Breaking the image of a gentle, kind stepmother had to be done slowly—like peeling back the delicate layers of an onion.

So slowly, in fact, that not even she would realize it was happening.

She needed to believe that somewhere inside me, the affection-starved Cecilia was still alive and well.

“Isla must be shaken. Could I trouble someone to bring her a warm cup of tea for both of us?”

I gently removed Edgar’s hand from my shoulder as I spoke.

“Come here, Isla.”

She glared at my outstretched hand with bitter eyes. But she had no choice.

The noble glow that Countess Rosette had worked so hard to instill in her daughter had begun to crack.

“You just misunderstood Lady Margaret, didn’t you?”

It had been six months since I arrived in this world.

Somehow, I’d developed a talent for acting.

Pretending to be the kind older sister came surprisingly naturally.

I pulled Isla into an embrace and brushed her silky hair back.

“I still remember what Countess Rosette always said—that you’re a sensitive girl, easily hurt.”

Sniffling, Isla curled up like a child, trying to look smaller and more innocent.

Hugging someone taller than me wasn’t exactly comfortable for either of us.

“And Lady Margaret is a fair person. If you simply admit you misunderstood her words and made a mistake in the heat of the moment, she’ll forgive you—gladly.”

Isla clutched me tightly around the waist.

Then she leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered:

“I’m never apologizing. How do you expect me to face Mother if I do?”

It had always seemed to me that Isla hadn’t inherited many of Countess Rosette’s qualities.

But now I could see—if nothing else—she had definitely inherited her mother’s talent for identifying people’s weaknesses.

“Lady Isla. I’m ready when you are.”

Margaret stood confidently, one hand on her hip, chin lifted high.

Edgar, who still hadn’t moved to fetch tea, stared at the side of my face like he didn’t recognize me.

His expression said it all: he couldn’t believe I had taken control.

“Cecilia, leave this messy business to me. I’ll deal with Lady Isla. You should go rest. Just coming out today must’ve been exhausting enough.”

He was trying to seize back the lead.

“I’m not so weak that I need to drag you into family matters. I’m sorry. If I’d known something like this would happen, I would’ve accepted your offer to come along from the start.”

With that, I revealed that it had been Edgar who asked to accompany me today.

Everyone knew I had built a close relationship with Josephine.

By contrast, Edgar typically kept company with businessmen, not society women.

He’d earned a glowing reputation for turning around the Linton family’s dire finances through unknown means—without anyone realizing just how desperate things really were.

If not for that image, he would’ve been labeled as nothing more than a noble who had stooped to doing business.

“My wife hadn’t prepared a gift for Her Majesty, so I had no choice but to step in,” Edgar said smoothly.

His response was calculated.

By claiming he was simply helping his wife with her public appearance, and not tagging along just to see the Queen, he even managed to sound humble.

“Isla.”

I turned away from Edgar.

I didn’t have the energy to keep up this charade any longer.

“I’ll explain everything to Countess Rosette. You don’t need to worry about her scolding you.”

“Lady Isla, did you not hear Countess Linton’s words?”

Like a performer who couldn’t stand not being in the spotlight, Edgar stole my closing line.

With even Edgar turning against her, Isla had no room left to retreat.

She bit her lower lip and stepped in front of Margaret.

“Lady Margaret… I… misunderstood.”

The apology came out in broken pieces—awkward and stiff.

“For Cecilia’s sake, I’ll accept it,” Margaret replied haughtily.

Just like that, the conflict was resolved. On the surface, at least.

But Isla’s behavior during this gathering would no doubt be gossiped about for days.

“Countess Linton.”

A calm, low voice cut through the murmuring crowd.

“Her Majesty the Queen wishes to speak with you privately.”

Just moments ago, she had still been at the bow of the ship. When had she gotten so close?

Ricardo walked straight toward me, parting the crowd like water, until he stood before me.

“Shall we go?”

He held out his hand to escort me.

A classic, proper gesture.

“Lord Ricardo. I’ll be the one escorting my wife.”

Edgar quickly stepped between us.

“If Her Majesty requested that Count Linton accompany you, then so be it.”

Ricardo looked down at Edgar, using his tall frame to his advantage.

Though born illegitimate, Ricardo had been recognized as heir to the Duke of Bastian.

To Edgar, treating him with courtesy was a bitter pill to swallow.

Having to look up at Ricardo—right now, in front of everyone—was probably the greatest humiliation of all.

Ricardo, with his commanding presence.

Edgar, with his refined beauty.

They couldn’t have been more different—from head to toe.

The wind blew, causing Ricardo’s dark hair to whip wildly around.

In contrast, Edgar’s blonde hair, neatly styled and fixed with wax, remained perfectly in place.

“Unfortunately, Her Majesty the Queen only wants you, Countess Linton,” Ricardo remarked.

The queen had ignored their petty quarrels.

She had sent Edgar away, but not because she cared about me; it was more likely because his constant hovering had become tiresome.

Although the immediate situation had settled, the lingering effects hadn’t yet dissipated.

It was too soon to change the attitude that the queen had chosen to ignore.

Had Ricardo whispered something to the queen? It was pure speculation.

Though he confessed to having feelings for me, I couldn’t imagine they were significant enough to provoke Her Majesty’s ire.

“Countess Linton, do you intend to keep Her Majesty waiting?” Ricardo urged.

I caught a glimpse of Edgar’s forehead and the sharp jut of his fingers, hidden behind him.

I noticed the small scars on his thick knuckles.

“Edgar. I can’t refuse Her Majesty’s request.”

Edgar knew that as well.

He suspected, with no real evidence, that I might be tempted to seduce Ricardo, but he was the one already involved in an affair.

The thought of Ricardo attempting to seduce me never crossed my mind. I knew how little he thought of Cecilia.

“I’ll be watching,” Edgar warned as he adjusted my shawl, a subtle but sharp reminder.

“Focus on emphasizing the loyalty of the Linton family to the queen.”

I placed my hand in Ricardo’s, feeling Isla’s resentful gaze burning into my back.

Isla, humiliated in front of everyone, must have been outraged to see me being escorted by Ricardo, the heir of the Duke of Bastian, on my way to the queen.

I had risen too quickly, too high.

I could only hope this wouldn’t trigger any unnecessary suspicion in Countess Rosette.

“Why do you think Her Majesty called for me?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

I had resolved never to bring up what had happened on the guest floor again.

Ricardo hadn’t confessed his inexplicable passion, and I hadn’t listened.

“The voice of the Baron’s daughter of Artois must have been quite loud,” Ricardo said jokingly.

His voice carried a hint of laughter.

“Surely, Her Majesty can relate to that kind of sorrow.”

“If every person who lost their mother was summoned by the queen, the palace would be overflowing,” I replied.

“As usual, Countess Linton, you have no mercy,” he teased.

The walk to the bow was short. I tried to interpret Ricardo’s words. He had said that the cause of his passion was that I saw him as a human.

But he had again called me merciless.

“That’s what I mean,” he said, looking at me intently as I struggled to decipher his words.

“You’re as merciless to yourself as you are to others. I get it. I’m the same way.”

He added, almost as an afterthought, “Well, now it’s time to perform for Her Majesty again. Let’s see if your kindness to others will work on the queen.”

Ricardo stepped behind me as I stood before the queen.

“Cecilia.”

The queen was alone. Neither Lady Federica nor Josephine was present.

“The social scene is a battlefield without swords. As a queen, I must remain neutral, but personally, I wish for your victory, Cecilia.”

“Thanks to Your Majesty, my victory has been solidified,” I said, giving her a small smile.

The queen’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Your deteriorating health—was it caused by sorrow?”

“Lady Margaret was kind enough to comfort me, but unlike others, I couldn’t shake off my grief quickly,” I replied.

The queen tapped her fingernails on the armrest of her chair.

“Do you think it’s because you were weak?”

I didn’t hesitate to find the answer she was seeking, though I wasn’t entirely sure it was the right one.

“No. The small fishing boat will be faster than our ship because it’s lighter and can ride the current more easily.”

The queen gazed out at the river, searching for the fishing boat.

Josephine’s planned cruise meant that fishing along the route had been forbidden.

“The boat that travels farther will be Lady Josephine’s. It may be slower, but it safely protects its passengers. The fishing boat ahead faces the risk of running aground, while the cruise ship will reach its destination.”

The queen tilted her head thoughtfully. I continued.

“Once emotions are formed, they cannot be easily ignored. Even if you bury them deep for a moment, there’s no way to make them disappear completely.”

That’s why I had chosen not to have emotions. It was impossible to fight against that inner storm.

“But I believe that, with time, you can learn to coexist with them, and reach your destination without running aground.”

“So, you didn’t think it was weakness, but that you needed time to become stronger?” the queen asked.

“That’s how I see it,” I answered humbly.

Her fingernails slowed as they stopped tapping on the armrest.

“You are wise,” the queen said.

I lifted my gaze to meet her eyes but hesitated.

She didn’t say “you.” She had said “you” in the third person.

“Or perhaps you’re just skilled at speaking with a tongue like the one in your mouth,” she continued, offering no need for a response.

“You’re a perfect companion for my grandmother, Lady Federica. You’d bring joy to her old age.”

“Pardon?” I asked, startled.

I looked up, but the queen wasn’t looking at me.

She was staring across the river.

“You will become Lady Federica’s closest confidante, with the queen’s permission. I’m sure you’ll bring her much happiness in her twilight years.”

Ricardo extended his hand to me once more. The conversation with the queen had ended.

I accepted his escort in a daze and returned to the deck.

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