No One Ever Loved Me - Chapter 44

Marchioness Federica greeted me with the warmth of a grandmother.

To me, grandparents were not figures I associated with nostalgia or affection.

But this visit felt distinctly different from the pleasant welcome I had received before.

I guessed this was what people meant when they spoke of a grandmother’s gentle affection for her granddaughter.

Dressed in comfortable indoor clothes, Marchioness Federica led me not to the conservatory, but to the library.

“People think Martha is just overly kind, but truly, I don’t know anyone with stronger principles than that girl,” she said.

The library was cozy. The space, filled with round armchairs, was bathed in sunlight streaming through a large window.

This was probably a secondary library—meant for books of less value.

In this world, books were considered a costly luxury.

And sunlight was their greatest enemy.

Installing such a grand window was as good as boasting about the wealth of House Federica.

“Make yourself comfortable, Cecilia.”

“Thank you, Madam.”

Marchioness Federica herself settled into one of the round chairs, stretching her legs.

“Were you surprised to find that Martha was so different from the rumors?”

“I don’t believe in rumors, Madam,” I replied, choosing the seat across from her.

The backrest was soft, while the cushion beneath was firm—comfortably supportive.

“I’ve suffered from outrageous gossip myself. The Queen I met struck me as a strong, grounded woman.”

Marchioness Federica smiled gently.

“Yes, Martha is strong. It’s true, in part, that Her Majesty was drawn to her character.”

I didn’t have to wonder what book to read.

It was clear that Marchioness Federica wasn’t interested in literature today—she wanted to talk about the Queen.

“I can’t speak freely about Martha with my friends. They’re noble ladies with court access, and Martha is the Queen now.”

“Her Majesty is their ruler, after all. It’s touching how much you care for her, Madam.”

“Of course I do. My dear Martha is the only family I have left. She’s the final gift from Renée—Martha’s mother, and my daughter.”

I didn’t ask what had become of the Queen’s biological father.

From the moment she was born, Martha had been the cherished granddaughter of House Federica.

“After Renée passed, Martha suffered greatly.”

Marchioness Federica dabbed at her moist eyes with a handkerchief.

“Losing a mother is hard, but losing a daughter… I imagine that must be a pain beyond words, Madam.”

Quietly, I placed my hand over hers—thin and delicate with age.

“I can understand the Queen’s sorrow. But your pain… I don’t think I can even begin to imagine it.”

Even as I offered words of comfort, a question stirred inside me.

How do others accept such intense emotions without rejecting them?

My own self-loathing stemmed from the belief that I was not a real human being.

I feared that overwhelming emotions would destroy the already fragile parts of my humanity.

The moment I found my mother hanging from the ceiling, the feeling that gripped me wasn’t grief—it was freedom.

I, the very person who had driven her to take her own life, felt relief at being freed from her.

That ugly truth would stay with me forever.

Because of that, even when Sarah betrayed me, or when Martha and Justin harbored ambitions beyond their station, I couldn’t bring myself to truly resent them.

If I hadn’t taken over Cecilia’s body, if I had no goal to reclaim her lost inheritance, I would have let them use me however they wished.

As a flawed human being, I was worth even less than them—less than a worm crawling in the dirt—because they, at least, possessed whole and genuine emotions.

“Cecilia, your honest words touch me more than all the elaborate comforts I’ve heard over the years,” Marchioness Federica said, putting away her handkerchief and gently patting the back of my hand.

“Forgive this old woman for showing such an unseemly side of herself.”

“Don’t poets sing of sorrow, Madam? Expressing sadness is never unseemly.”

Was I being too agreeable?

The Queen once said that I might be clever—or just particularly good at flattery.

Perhaps that’s why she chose to place me beside Marchioness Federica, rather than keep me as her own confidante.

Marchioness Federica’s influence was significant—but limited to social circles.

“You certainly know how to say the right things. It’s a skill every lady of society ought to possess.”

She straightened her posture, adjusting herself in the chair. I had probably gone too far.

“Shall we begin reading?”

I read aloud from a dense book on theology.

Marchioness Federica closed her eyes as she listened.

Two hours passed. I drank tea continuously while reading through almost two-fifths of the thick volume.

“They say God only gives trials a person can endure,” she murmured, almost like a sigh.

“Just like the trials I faced, Cecilia’s trials will be no different.”

Was that her way of saying she wouldn’t step in to help if I got into trouble?

“Come again tomorrow, same time. I need to take my afternoon nap now.”

The warmth Marchioness Federica had shown me upon arrival had already faded.

Though she remained polite, there was no warmth in her farewell.

As I stepped outside the mansion, I let out the sigh I had been holding in.

If I wanted to regain Marchioness Federica’s warmth, it would take time—and a great deal of effort.

“My lady, shall we take a ride through the plaza?”

Sir Juan, who had been waiting, suggested the idea. Justin sat at the coachman’s seat.

It was a relief that he had given up his ambitions of knighthood.

At this point, I ought to thank Isla. Her overwhelming attention during Josephine’s boat party had apparently been enough to put Justin off for good.

“Why? Is Lord Ricardo lurking nearby again, hoping for another ‘chance encounter’?”

Sir Juan awkwardly stroked his beard.

“No, My Lady. I haven’t had any private meetings with Lord Ricardo since you instructed me not to.”

I had always assumed Juan was Edgar’s man, just as Sarah loyally served Countess Rosette. I figured he would do anything Edgar asked, and so I had paid him little mind.

But to my surprise, it had come to light that Juan actually had a connection with Ricardo.

Edgar despised Ricardo. There’s no way he would knowingly hire someone associated with him.

“Will you be accompanying Edgar on his business trip?”

If Edgar truly trusted him, Juan would surely be going on such a secretive journey.

“I serve you, My Lady,” he replied firmly.

“House Linton values peace and therefore doesn’t retain permanent knights.”

That was the official reasoning. In reality, it was simply because the household couldn’t afford to.

Edgar only came into great wealth after marrying Cecilia.

But then, why didn’t he have his own personal guards?

The first thing that came to mind was Edgar’s deep distrust of others.

The fortune of House Linton wasn’t, as many believed, the result of Edgar’s brilliant business sense.

If it became known that he had been siphoning off his wife’s estate, House Linton’s name would be utterly disgraced.

Of course, he would want to keep the source of his income well hidden.

“I worry for Edgar’s safety,” I said with concern, playing the role of the devoted wife.

If Juan were truly Edgar’s man, he would try to reassure me right away.

“The Count will probably hire mercenaries,” he said candidly, answering the question I hadn’t asked directly.

“Mercenaries?”

“They’re men who’ll do anything for coin. Contracts are job-by-job. Once it’s done, you never have to see them again. That makes them a convenient choice.”

His answer told me clearly—Juan wasn’t working for Edgar.

Which only raised more questions: who was he working for?

“I see.”

I nodded, careful not to let any suspicion show on my face.

Once I got back, I’d need to find out who had written Juan’s letter of recommendation.

The carriage headed for the plaza. Sarah kept stealing glances at me.

She must have realized by now that I no longer trusted her the way I once did.

“My lady, since you’re here, why not take a walk?”

It was the opposite of what she’d said six months ago, insisting no noble lady should be seen walking through the city.

“And what if people gossip that the Countess of Linton is out strolling?”

I replied, looking listlessly out the window.

“You were entrusted to Marchioness Federica by Her Majesty the Queen herself. If you go for a walk, others will copy you—and soon it’ll be fashionable!”

Hearing Sarah fawn over me so eagerly, I suddenly realized—this must be how I had come across to Marchioness Federica earlier.

“The sunset is lovely. They say it looks especially beautiful from the fountain. I’ve only heard stories, but some people come all the way here just to see it.”

Now it was clear—her flattery had a motive.

The same way my words had surely appeared transparent to Marchioness Federica.

I felt my face flush.

“Fine. If you’re begging this much, how could I possibly say no?”

Sarah gave instructions for the coachman to stop near the fountain.

Justin grumbled under his breath. Ever since Martha’s influence, he had taken a strong dislike to Sarah.

She used to hang around him constantly, but now she barely spoke unless necessary.

I wondered: Was her interest in Justin due to his good looks? Or was it another order from Countess Rosette?

After all, the Countess had once spread rumors that Justin and I had an improper relationship.

The rumor was based on a report Sarah had made after catching sight of us speaking briefly in the garden.

Had Josephine not invited me to Marchioness Federica’s tea party at just the right moment, I might never have had the chance to recover from the damage.

I owed debts all over—Josephine, Margaret, even Penelope.

Just how much effort would it take to reclaim what was mine—or rather, what Cecilia had lost—while paying back those debts fairly?

“We’re here, My Lady.”

I’d been lost in thought and hadn’t noticed the carriage stopping. Sarah stood beside me, cheerfully chattering as she guided me in a specific direction.

I let myself be led, pretending to give in.

“My goodness!” Sarah exclaimed loudly.

“My Lady, look! It’s the Count of Linton—and that woman!”

Sure enough, Edgar and Elodie were sitting side by side on a bench near the fountain, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

I tilted my head, bemused. This was far too obvious to be called a scheme. It barely qualified as an attempt.

“I thought things were going well between you and the Count lately. He’s been treating you so kindly…”

Sarah rolled up her sleeves, declaring she would march over and separate the two of them right then and there.

“If it weren’t for Miss Isla, you would’ve been completely fooled, My Lady!”

“Isla?”

“Yes! She said something about that sly woman seemed suspicious and told me to keep an eye on her.”

I bit my lip, stifling a laugh.

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